They said “we needed Trump out of here”. Then voted the new devil in. You were all duped. They even shamed folks who couldn’t decide who to vote for. Made them feel guilty for not going along with crowd. Cause you scared of Trump little red petty ass. Oh but that white boy was down wit Obama and had a black vice president so he must be cool. Dafuk outta here.
It’s still legal for cops to kill niggaz out here. Excuse my french. Only thing changed is the day.
I aint putting pictures up of the border on my page. As foul as that was, hell, they could have been shooting and still the only thing that would have happened is politics, mad black folks, slick talking white folks and weak human beings talking that “at least we got rid of Trump” shit.
How many school yard fights would have happened if none of the other kids showed up to watch? Why is that question relevant Wet.Dirt? Energy grows where your attention flows. In this case its fear. The energy of fear is strong folks. They needed something to keep the people scared and thinking about everything except the shit we were promised when we voted the new white boy in.
Side note: To all the decent folks who are fighting along side the beautiful black folks with less melanin in your skin, I got love for yall. It’s the other assholes I got beef with. The 1850 devils who somehow time traveled to 2021. Well, actually they didnt time travel. Those cockroaches evade cans of Raid with incredible agility.
Anyway, the school yard thing. Yall need to stop watching the News. This is how the fear is kept up. They go out of there way to find things to keep us scared because number one they know the people will pick anger with no actions rather than retaliate with an equal exchange of energy. The only real character flaw black folks have is being too nice and forgiving.
Anyway, this is what yall voted for. How the hell such a low number of people can control the masses has been something my brain has never been able to compute. Collectively we seem to turn away from our own power. This is why Amerikkka is what it is.
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Is your kiss really that powerful to me? That connection that pauses time.
The waves of high vibrations that runs through my being. I’m only describing what it feels like when I grab your hand and pull you close to me before we even kiss.
I’ll get to that part in a bit but the fragrance that floats up my nostrils as we get closer, the look in your eyes as they start to close right before we touch each other with our lips.
Yeah. That part. When I know I’ll experience something familiar but for the first time all over again.
Even though our eyes are both closed at the point of connection, I see our love. I feel your presence. The taste of your tongue and how it massages mine is completely addictive.
Our embrace while all this is going on, is the recharge my soul uses when creativity is low. That energy revitalizes me. The most intense part is, it’s all in my mind.
He thought these things as she passed by. It was only about 15 seconds. Her hair, long and curly complimented her voluptuous body.
Her face seemingly angelic. As she laughed with her friends, two deep dimples on both sides of her face nearly dropped him.
Never in his life had he seen such an exotic looking woman cross his path. Just as he began to look forward in his stride, he knew he caught a glance that she effortlessly threw his way.
Did she? Unsure of himself, he walked towards a near by wall in the hallway and stood by himself.
There was a crowd of people gathering in a large auditorium witnessing a high class wedding. The bride and groom had left moments ago, and the rest were in the process of heading downstairs where the reception was to be held.
He didn’t want to look like some sort of pervert or be weird, but did notice after she hugged her friends and wished them well, there was a separation.
Her friends walked in the direction of where he was standing. They were going in the direction of the music downstairs.
She was walking out of the building by herself. As he watched her walk, his eyes were literally pulling his body in the direction of her shapely rear.
Never had he seen such a perfect specimen of female power. His mind spoke up loudly. She’s out of your league bro! There are plenty of girls downstairs.
But for some reason he ignored his life-time of shyness and self-doubt. Normally, the reality for him was going down-stairs and finding a nice table or wall out of the way, getting his meal, drinking his drink, and making his way home.
He wasn’t ugly. No woman would ever see him as unattractive but he fought all his life with low self-esteem and constantly going out of his way to devalue himself.
For some reason, this woman made him forget all that. She being within inches of the door, he lightly trotted ahead of her to open it to hold as she walked through.
“Thank you”. She says to him in her soft but firm voice. “My pleasure” was his response. Then just like that, his mind goes blank, he hesitates with a shy grin, then she walks past.
Right at that moment, it was sure defeat. The moment where once again, he let his low view on himself defeat him from yet another lady he was attracted to, but not courageous enough to pursue. Then she turned around.
“I hate weddings!” she proclaimed. His whole being lit up. As she approached him, he chuckled and said, “me too”.
“I usually don’t do this but hi, my name is Charity” as she extended her hand to shake. He not only shakes but gives a light kiss on her hand that made her feel flattered and special.
“I’m Loose and Loose loves Charity”. They both laughed as they both knew Loose was definitely a joke and not a name. “Greg, nice to meet you”.
For some reason, this woman and this brief encounter made Greg feel new. The shy guy he was clinging to or maybe more fitting, clinging to him, was literally dying in the moment.
Her hazel eyes were breathtaking to him and the conversation flowed freely as they briefly got to know each other.
“Heading home”?! Greg asked. “Yeah, I lead a pretty boring life”. Charity answered with a giggle. Charity was a psychologist. 28 years old, single, and was working in her first full year in the profession.
She hadn’t yet learned to just slow down and take a break. After graduating high school, it was straight to college and straight A’s getting her degree in 6 years.
Then the job of her dream right after that. After 8 months even though she’s fulfilled with her career, she’s feeling the effects of burnout.
Greg offers to walk her to her car to see her off. As he opens her door he asks for her number. Charity unlocks her phone, hands it to him and asks Greg to call his phone with it.
Greg is a numbers cruncher. An accountant at a high dollar firm for world famous entertainers.
He himself has never gotten a grade below a “B”, knew what he wanted, pursued it, and living in what he would describe his calling as well.
As they say pleasant parting words, Charity rolls up her window and begins to drive off.
She’s not even 20 feet away when Greg pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls.
“It’s Saturday, Labor day is Monday, are you really going home or just trying to get rid of me”?
With no traffic, Charity stops at the light, backs up as Greg walks towards her car, and when they meet, Greg simply gets in the car and they drive off.
The silver Benz Charity picked Greg up in, had the heavenly aroma of her luxurious fragrance pleasantly pinning him to the passenger’s seat.
“Siri, play real rap shit playlist”. Jay-Z filled the car with his infamous song “So Ghetto” off his Volume 3 album.
After about 10 minutes in the car with no talking, just music, Charity pulls up to a restaurant where Greg immediately gets out to walk to her side and opens the door.
Not only does he open her door, he lightly grabs her hand and once again kisses it as she arises out of her car.
“Chivalry will get you everywhere with me sir”. They’re eyes lock. For them, it seemed like an eternity. They were both smitten and didn’t break the trance until the honk from a car filled their ears wanting to get by.
As they walk into this lavish but still a bit quaint restaurant, to Greg’s surprise, Charity pleasantly says “Daddy” to an older looking gentleman approaching them.
For a moment at least, the calm and collected, newfound cool Greg just recently attained fleeted him and he’s thinking to himself, “Damn, her father on the first date”?
Charity seemingly reading his mind, looks at him laughing, “No this isn’t a date. Dad this is Greg. He needed a ride from the wedding and I was hungry”.
Her dad extends his hand to shake Greg’s and says, “Don’t be alarmed, I’m Mr. Jones”.
And just like that, Greg came back to himself. “An honor to meet you sir”. Looks at Charity with a grin and says, “please tell me there’s a ribeye in the building” as the three of them share an innocent laugh.
This was an interesting restaurant. Not very big but certain tables revolved slowly. Fitting because the restaurant was named Circles.
The meal was damn near ecstasy for Greg. Ribeye was his favorite cut of meat and it was seasoned and cooked perfectly.
“Does your dad own this restaurant”? Greg asks Charity with curiosity. “No, I do. He’s my stepdad. When my mom past away, there was a nice amount of money my mom left for me as the only child. My dad loves to cook, he needed a job, so I bought this place”.
Then not being able to hold it in, Charity begins to laugh hysterically. Greg not knowing what was going on begins to think he was the butt of some joke.
Charity explained that she didn’t really own the place. Mr. Jones’ best friend owns it. They served in Desert Storm together and because of the countless times Mr. Jones helped and even saved his life, the owner Travis Kent was always grateful to him.
Every Saturday Mr. Jones and Mr. Kent would get together to have dinner and drinks and entertain the patron’s with their war stories.
As the meal was completed and the server comes to check on the two, Greg says “check please”. Charity says, “it’s all good, steaks on the house”, and to his surprise, Charity gets up first, grabs his jacket and says, “ready to get your car”?
Being flattered, Greg says, “thank you” and grabs his jacket and the two proceed to the door.
Greg see’s Mr. Kent on his way out as he and Mr. Jones were talking to guests. He expresses gratitude then looks Mr. Jones in the eye and hopes to see him again.
As they drive to the auditorium where the wedding was earlier, the people were getting out from the reception. When they find Greg’s car, he thanks Charity for a lovely dinner, once again kisses her hand and says, “I definitely hope to see you soon”.
Charity with a bit of a devilish grin on her face tells him in a soft voice, “It may be sooner than you think”.
No sooner then Greg gets in his car and turns the key, his phone rings.
A beautiful and familiar voice has two words, then just like that, the call was over. “Follow me”.
Charity and Greg drive for about 20 minutes and he notices a huge house sitting on the edge of a lake. The full moon was shining beautifully off the water. Within seconds, they pull up to a house right off the lake.
Charity gets out of her car first and goes to her trunk to pull out a huge blanket.
Greg meets her at her car and asks, “is this your house”? “Its one of my stepdads”, she answered, I used to stay here in the summer when I came home on break from school”.
As they walk down to the beach, he noticed how perfect the weather was. He couldn’t believe such a perfect night was happening.
Charity goes to what she calls her favorite spot. To Greg’s surprise, she begins to take off her clothes. It revealed a two piece bathing suit under it.
She lays out the blanket and sits down inviting Greg. Greg takes off his shoes and sits next to her and they begin to look up at the sky. The full moon was out and stars were everywhere.
As they spoke lightly, heard the tide of the lake, and watched the sky, Charity reached to grab Greg’s hand. The energy transfer between the two with this soft connection led Greg to do one thing.
He turned and kissed Charity. Their lips and tongues passionately massage one another. They were in a universe of their own.
Charity positioned her hand to unbutton Greg’s shirt and they never lost connection with there mouths. Soon his shirt was unbuttoned and he began to take his pants off.
Charity then gets up and leads Greg to the water. As the water gets waist deep for both, Charity takes off her panties which led Greg to take off his boxers.
They held each other and kissed. Wanting each other more and more with every moment. Greg’s pulsating man part was right up against Charity’s stomach as she massaged and kiss Greg’s neck and upper chest.
Then Greg did something only to be described as passionate lust. He submerged himself under the water, lifted Charity’s leg over his shoulder and plunged his face and mouth into Charity’s soft and shaven flower.
Her moans of ecstasy could have been heard from far distances but it was only them in the shallow part of the lake enjoying the time and space of one another.
It seemed like forever and at least one earth shattering orgasm when Greg finally emerged from under water.
He picks Charity up to carry her back to the blanket and as he lays her down, he spreads her legs as far apart as they could go and drags his tongue from her ankle, up her left leg, past her stomach and breast and rested his tongue in her mouth.
Charity then guides his penis into herself as they both let out loud moans of intense love making.
They had only met 7 hours ago. For some reason, what was taking place had no wrong in it whatsoever.
That glance she gave him in the hallway as she passed by at the wedding earlier wasn’t totally coincidental. She saw him sitting alone in the wedding and hoped at some point he would approach her.
She was immediately drawn to him but as the ceremony ended, her friend came by to talk. It was her first night back home in a while.
She lives and works 30 minutes away and attending the wedding was more of a favor to a friend then her actually knowing the bride and groom all that well.
As the nuptials were recited all she could give her attention to was Greg. She knew she had to have him but didn’t know how.
Him opening the door for her as she left the auditorium was her chance to say something because she didn’t know if she’d ever see him again.
As they roll over on the towel, Charity get’s on top and grabs Greg’s member that is raging with wanting. The sweet smell of Charity’s flower seems to hover around the humid air that keeps reminding them both of love.
She starts at its peak, softly opens her mouth, and gently lowers her head receiving every bit of firm deliciousness using an extra amount of natural lubricant from her mouth to increase the satisfying moment Greg was having.
In 28 years this had never happened to Greg. None of it. In fact, before tonight, the only sexual experience Greg had was with himself.
All he knew to do was breathe, enjoy, and appreciate. Charity served her man with no other mission but to make sure he never even wants another woman for the rest of his life.
Right at the moment Greg could no longer take it anymore, Charity instinctively and quickly raised her head which withdrew her mouth off of Greg’s physical passion, positioned her body where her moistened area of love briefly hovered over his wanting and lowered herself.
The climax was immediate and intense with such passion that screams of pleasure and cries of joy filled the beach. They loved each other excessively. Then Charity collapsed on top of Greg as they both fell asleep in each other’s arms.
I believe artist are commissioned and anointed before they get here. Artists have an insatiable zeal and a limitless imagination for life but are constantly up against obstacles and mental challenges that are hard to be comprehended by the average person.
Now to be clear, everyone has some sort of artistry to them. Everyone here on this planet is a creator of some type. However, there is a special type of people who are here to contribute to the true consciousness of the collective.
What is the collective? Human beings as a whole. Warren Buffett can definitely inspire people to attain wealth, but someone like Stevie Wonder can actually use his art to bring people together and raise a love frequency.
Stevie Wonder at some point probably inspired Warren Buffett during a time in his life with his music.
Artists see things different. They care on a whole other level for fellow human beings. This is why they create as they do.
When you listen to Tupac, most of his music revolves around pain. He saw the condition of his people and wanted better for them. He was heartbroken knowing that the average black individual would never reach the level he was on as an artist.
He was definitely proud of himself for making it out of his circumstances and getting the money, cars, and access to opportunities he was blessed with, but always remembered that everyone couldn’t go with him.
Although he had love for people who lived a lifestyle that was frowned upon by this society, he wished they could do better for themselves. He wished pimps didn’t have to pimp. He hated that street pharmacist had to sell drugs.
Overall, before Tupac left this world, he understood that his contribution to human beings through his words and music would live well after he was gone. I believe this is why he spoke of death so much and pretty much welcomed it.
He had work, he completed that work, and although his end was tragic I do believe there was a level of peace his soul attained before his exit.
Many artists aren’t that fortunate. Many just don’t reach a Tupac level simply because there’s only so much room when sharks have to swim in a lake.
Writers, musicians, rappers, dancers, people who literally have the gift to draw and duplicate images in their minds for the world to see on canvases are not always afforded the opportunities to have there art seen by the masses.
The true artists who have real things to say are not always welcomed with open arms. They may speak on things that are hard to be accepted.
When the masses of people and consciousness are moving in one direction that’s comfortable while at the same time toxic, the artists who go against the flow is often vilified, seen as an outcast, and is unpopular to those who are “following suit”.
In the words of Lenard McKelvey, “no one wants the truth when the lie is more entertaining”.
This type of thing puts the artist in a position of peril. The true hope of every artist is to use what they create to make a life for themselves. They believe in business. They believe in supply and demand. They believe in providing a service.
They believe in energy exchange. Their ultimate dream is to use there energy to create whatever it is they create, and in return earn the energy of financial compensation.
They see how the world works in this manner. You don’t go to a restaurant, eat a full meal, and simply walk out without paying.
Artists understand that they possess something that’s not common to everyone and at the same time has a different value to everyone.
A conscious rapper may take his music to a place where the party may be a casual and fun experience and try to sell it for $5. He knows that it may not be the best place to display his art, but if he was asked to perform at a political rally, he may ask for $10-15 because that audience may put more value on his content.
The worst case scenario is that he gets nothing from either audience. What even makes it worse than that is the praise he gets for his artistry while failing to receive the energy he may be entitled to in return.
This doesn’t just apply to rappers and MC’s. Any individual who has something to say or contribute that can be a help to humankind as a whole face this.
Because we live in a world that revolves around money with various ways to make it, the artist understands that yes, he possess something valuable but after a period of time when life hits and his art doesn’t bring him a desired success, they’re faced with a choice that many people fail to fully understand.
Every artist knows life isn’t free. There willing to work like everyone else. Most have “jobs” to support their lives but all struggle to find there true place in this realm of existence.
They have a problem fitting in when they realize how the corporate world works. It’s even worse when they understand that they are just a number or quota that has to be filled to provide wealth for the ones in control, but merely a wage for themselves.
This is why many artist go from job to job unhappy in life because they have more to give to it, and its in conflict to the abilities they understand they have. They just want opportunities and compensation that are fair to their purposes.
This leads to severe mental health issues. They see themselves willing to be of service for the greater good but there current life circumstances don’t mirror that back.
Many artist are depressed because they feel stuck, underappreciated, and misunderstood. They don’t think like everyone else. They know their at the mercy of a system that minimizes their wellbeing.
Money isn’t a cure all. We see well established financially secure artists battling mental health and substance abuse all the time, and those are the ones “that made it”. But what about the ones that don’t.
What if the lack of money leads to mental health battles and substance abuse? Or what if the money they earn from a “job” doesn’t satisfy there life because the job takes time away from producing the art they have to give which truly is there life source.
The average person can never see this type of dichotomy. Most people just accept life as it is, but at the same time wanting for themselves the opportunity to pursue a dream of their own. Having to shelve that because of their life circumstance isn’t good either.
Fortunately for them, or maybe it’s a misfortune depending on how you look at it, they can just move on from it. Artist cant. They grow increasingly unhappy and unstable. They see there goal as possible but live a life that feels impossible to attain there goals.
No artist wants something for nothing. Not even pity. They just want opportunity and a way to share what’s within before there time is up here. Finances are supposed to come with that like any other profession.
Unfortunately the frequency on earth can be so low that the masses may not be able to understand this type of thing. Hopefully there can come a time when a system can be put in place where the arts can be viewed just as significant as corporate.
Happy Monday My People!
Who saw Verzuz last week? First and foremost I’d like to thank the Most High for Jadakiss. All praises due to the Lox. The Dipset provided a worthy and entertaining challenge. It was a beautiful night for Hip-hop.
I guess that’s the night I sorta came out of my funk. When I go through heavy things, it’s hard to pick up my pen. I get trapped in my mind. It’s almost like I’m a prisoner to myself.
I guess it’s a symptom of my mental health issues. I missed you all. I shared for 10 days in a row and I needed a break.
Perhaps today was supposed to be the day I came back anyway but the sludge between my last real piece and today made things difficult.
I wrote plenty of things. I just didn’t have the nerve to share them because they were extremely personal and I just didn’t think it was appropriate to share with the world at this time.
They actually may turn into a book one day but for now, they’ll be tucked away until the time is right.
Last Monday before the Verzuz battle, I had a session with my therapist. I tried to Zoom with him but for whatever reason my phone couldn’t provide him with the audio to hear me so we just talked on the phone.
I was explaining to him what I had been going through. My previous sessions had been upbeat. I told him about my book and other things going on in my life but for whatever reason, well my own fear actually, I didn’t tell him the real issues I had which at the time weren’t major.
They were getting there, but I felt things would work out in my favor. Well, they didn’t. I got overwhelmed. So here I am on the phone. Little by little I’m telling him certain things that were heavy on my mind.
He told me this story about this man in the forest. The man had ventured out on his own and after a period of time became lonely and increasingly overwhelmed with his circumstances.
He had left his tribe. He believed he was doing the right thing. He felt it was better to separate and be on his own, then to deal with the troubles in his village.
While he was out in the forest he came across a wise man. I forget what my therapist called the wise man, but he began to question the man’s motives for being in the forest alone.
He saw the results of the man’s troubled actions. His stress, anxiety, depression, mental, and physical exhaustion. The man began to explain his life’s challenges to the wise man and began to break down.
The man missed his queen. He missed his children and all the camaraderie of his village. He had a deep rooted guilt. He felt he was letting his people down.
He didn’t know how to fix the problems in his village. He couldn’t recapture the love he had for his queen so he left. He left for the dark unpredictable forest refusing help of any kind.
He told the wise man that he felt he had to do it on his own because that’s what men were supposed to do. A man is supposed to be able to provide for himself.
Hide his hurt. Smother his fears. If at anytime he shows weakness in such a dark place as the forest, he can be consumed by whatever enemy is lurking.
The man had been wandering in the forest for some time and finally let all his emotions get the best of him. He had no answers and finally came to the realization that his journey was a horrible learning experience that was triggered by an out of control ego.
The wise man began to suggest to him that maybe it was time that he go back to his village and seek to reconcile with his queen. The man was overcome with shame.
Fear, pride, shame, hatred, arrogance, and stubbornness are all poisonous fruits that dangle from the tree of ego. Their heavenly taste going down, provides a cancerous virus that over time consumes the host.
As the man learned all this from his elder, he began to weep. He wept because solutions for his problems escaped his being. Then he began to think. If his ego got him in to this predicament, only his true self could rescue him.
The wise man taught him about the importance of presence.
On his long journey out of the forest, the man realized that before he reached his destination, he would have to remember who he was.
Most of his life, he thought of himself as his body and his thoughts. However he began to realized that there was one who was in his being who actually feels his body and hears his thoughts.
He wasn’t his body. He has a body. He wasn’t his thoughts; he hears his thoughts. There was an explosion within the man.
He began to find tools to dig away this excessive clutter that buried this incredible power he had within. Power that he wasn’t separated from. He actually was the power. He was the source.
Life separates us from ourselves. It is our job while were on this plain of existence to remember who we are. We are not the identities we are given. We are not our names. We’re not the titles that identify the jobs and careers we perform.
We have names. We have jobs and careers, but who is the true possessor of those titles? Who performs that job?
We are extensions of the original source energy that creates lives and universes. Ego is the number one adversary of us all. We fall to ego because we forget we are love.
The man who wandered into the forest for so long, now journeys back to his tribe. Yes, he is fatigued. Yes, he has many enemies and obstacles between him and the destination of his tribe and queen, but the biggest weight that has left his being was his ego.
That’s the energy you want to bring to the physical.
Today, I found out something that put things into perspective for me and I hope for you as well.
I’ve studied all the motivational speakers I love most. I see there financial success. I believe there spiritual and emotional success and have wondered what it was about them that brought them the success they have.
I’ve heard all there stories. Steve Harvey was homeless living in his car for 3 years. Les Brown was abandoned by his biological parents. Eric Thomas was homeless as well.
Napoleon Hill mentioned in “Outwitting the Devil”, that in the midst of a horrible challenge he had in life, he found what he called “his other self”.
Through the challenges of horrible life circumstances, Les Brown, Steve Harvey, and Eric Thomas all found there other selves as well.
In all actuality, it wasn’t there other selves. It was there true selves.
I can tell you from experience, that adversity pushes you in the direction of who you truly are. It’s uncomfortable and at times extremely painful but that’s why it’s so beautiful.
Your pushed and pulled in so many directions because of life that you literally forget who you are. It takes divine planning to bring you back to yourself. That in itself is a blessing.
Today, when I was listening to certain speakers, dreams and imaginations were the topics.
If you think back on your own life, everything you accomplished started as a thought. That thought enhanced your imagination and when you saw yourself doing a thing in your imagination, it made you believe you could do it in your reality, so you did.
The coldest part of that is, even if you failed to do something you imagined doing, with the experience you gained, you later learned.
Dreams. When you sleep at night, do you truly understand that whatever you accomplish in your dream state can be performed in your reality?
Some folks dream of literally flying. Now because gravity is a law, its hard for a person to fly in a conscious state (while there awake). So I won’t touch on that.
But what I will share of what I discovered today is, the person whom I’ve wanted to be the most my whole life, was the one I dreamed about when I laid down every night.
The fear of failure has no parts of my dream world. I’m completely courageous and brave. In my dream world I’m always sure of myself. I make decisions quickly. Whatever I think about doing in my dreams, I don’t even give it a second thought. I just do it. I’m a great rapper in my dreams without writing anything down. I’m a great, great fighter in my dreams.
I have all the answers in my dreams. I can have any experience I desire in my dreams.
But the most important thing of it all, was what I first mentioned of my dreams. I don’t have a fear of failure.
When I realized that whatever I dream, I can actually have in my present state, I realized that I found my other self. My true self.
This is why dreams are so important for EVERYBODY!!! There the blessings, signals and confirmations from your higher self, God, universe, or what ever you look to outside but most preferably, inside yourself as your source of spiritual power. You are limitless.
If you CAN’T fear in your dreams, your not supposed to fear in life. The person you truly want to be is the one in your dream world. It’s time to reveal him or her on this plain. Your other self. Your true self.
It’s taken a bit, but unraveling the limiting beliefs is a process in itself.
Depending on your upbringing it could be tough. I mean, if you were raised in a gang culture and one day you decide to go to college, who knows what resistance you can be met with.
Yes, that lifestyle is definitely challenging. Black and brown folks have been decimated by the choices of individuals who give there lives in exchange for blocks they don’t own, drugs, colors, and loyalty that’s only understood by the participants themselves.
So to be involved with that and want to change in another direction, peer pressure is the number one reason (in my opinion) that many stay involved until the end. That end being jail or death.
I could have used any other analogy to illustrate my point but I had to grab you in a way that makes you understand the gravity of what I’m about to explain.
When I bring up an interesting topic to my therapist he calmly tells me, “let’s unpack this”. I go into my issues and one by one we lay them on the table.
Dealing with limiting beliefs has a similar process. The influences by your environment. The influences by your family. Influences by the teachers at school and entertainers and athletes also influence us. Especially if those are the ones you look up to the most.
When you begin to question traditions, religious beliefs, or educational routes and start to buck the system if you will, the hinderance is the emotional impact of each separate subject.
If an individual came from a family of doctors and they were next in line to be in that profession, but in their heart they wanted to be a poet, they would sift through there whole being trying to justify why it is they feel led to that direction.
They could be thinking, my mom is a doctor. My dad is a doctor. This is what they want me to be. I have other family members who are doctors as well. The pressure of that can be an extremely stressful situation.
The individual can also believe that something is really wrong with them for being so different.
Mentally this could have been a challenge for some time and they haven’t even had the courage to utter the words “I want to be a poet” out loud to themselves, let alone sharing that with their families. Major unpacking has to be done.
We all have to come to a place where we want a particular life for ourselves but the tug of war of outside influences makes the transition difficult.
The challenges I’ve had the biggest problems with are the ones that had the most emotional impact. Just like the individual I’m describing above.
When your dealing with your subconscious mind, you’re dealing with the emotional motor of your being. From what I’ve learned, the most effective way to switch a belief in your subconscious mind is with repetition.
But that could be a problem within itself because your conscious mind sees everything as it is.
If your broke and trying to convince yourself you’re a millionaire with affirmations, you can have the vigor and confidence for a few days but if a bill unexpectedly hits your bank account and drags it to the negative, that literal and emotional blow can knock you off your focus. Trust me. I’ve been there.
It takes time to change limiting thoughts. This is why my life and many others who have aspirations of profound success fall more than fly.
Changing limiting beliefs are by no means impossible. Especially when you have the influences around you that cultivate the ideas of what you really want to be in life.
At first, I had the problem of simply knowing what I wanted. I’ve always been a scatterbrain if you will. So focusing on a single thing has always been a challenge.
Creating a plan that you stick by for better or worse is also difficult because life happens. If you don’t have an alternative route to get to your goals, setbacks can diminish any progress.
I saw a video on Facebook where this man seemed judgmental of women. He said something to the effect that women are judged ultimately by the kind and caliber man that they can keep. Below is my response to the video. I don’t know the individual who said this, nor am I saying it’s anything wrong with his take. I’m just illustrating that his perspective can be challenged.
I know it’s women who’ve done some foul shit to men. But if you look at the phrase “hurt people, hurt people” and study a particular female who’s in pain, a majority of time a man is the root of that pain and over time it just grows.
Look at the story of Adam and Eve. Eve fucked up. She was tricked by Satan. We never think about what Adam could have done MORE to stand up for his woman.
In fact, he played the ultimate bitch move because when God questioned him about this “SIN”, he immediately throws Eve under the bus.
The reason that story applies today, is that it has made women the scape goat for a lot of the problems of this world. Paul even mentioned that it was Eve that sinned first.
The coldest part of the whole Adam and Eve story is THIS NIGGA ADAM DID THE SAME DAMN SIN AS EVE!!!
The word “Woman” itself can be defined as Woe unto the man. Woe means trouble.
What I’m really trying to say is no one gets to this life without a woman. I’ve never seen one man in the history of the world volunteer to pass a human being out of any opening of their bodies.
The issue shouldn’t be judging a woman on the type of men she’s around. It should be about how men can change their perspective on the woman.
There not a weaker vessel. That some weird chauvinistic biblical shit.
At one point, women were just as much rulers of nations as their male counter parts. African queens at one point shared power equally with men and in some instances, had ALL THE POWER to rule over certain pieces of land and nations.
They were revered because of their power and essence to bring life in this world. It’s only been recently, like the past few thousand years, that men have physically taken advantage and spread the narrative that only because their men that somehow there better.
Men and women are supposed to be teammates playing their separate roles for the good of humanity as a whole. It’s pretty simple if you sit back and think about it.
I know many men who would definitely disagree with this take. That’s not really my problem. I just believe that this should be a time to heal the fractured connections between men and women.
It has absolutely, positively nothing to do with a sexual preference unless your by chance a man who some how feels superior to a woman because of your male part.
That doesn’t make you superior. It just means your spirit lacks the proper knowledge of who this God in human flesh truly is.
Lastly, women didn’t come from the rib of a man. Man passed through the beautiful flower of a woman. This is proven scientifically and also the reason men obsess about reconnecting to that sacred place from which they came.
Sorry about the colorful language and the use of the N-word. I mean hell, don’t you love Dave Chappelle too?lol