Expressions from *F* as my hair blows in the wind..

I can’t begin to express how I feel. That statement that begins this is scary, because never before have I felt like my words were gone. This whole ordeal turned out to be a positive thing because it gave me time to think..

I am..

23 about to be 24…

I am a mother..and a damn good one, because I CHOSE to bring her into this world.. I will never leave her behind. And where ever I go, she’ll be right there with me.

I may be categorized as “mentally ill” but I know I’m one of the elite. Because I take care of myself, and I know a healthy mind is a terrible thing to waste. I also know that some destined man one day will love me, and my crazy ass.

Picture this…

A woman..

take my face off of her body..

She sits in front of her tv. Wearing nothing but a bra and panties. He comes home to find her there in a pool of her own urine as she sat upon their white leather couch.This isn’t the first time, so he knows the routine. In his mind he knows, that her mind has vacated for awhile. She’ll be back. He knows this.

He gently grabs her hand, which is cold and shivering. He looks into her empty blue eyes, and feels no pity. For this is the love of his life, and he excepts the responsibility, to care for her..now and into eternity. He lifts her up, and carries her into the bathroom. Where he takes of her panties, and removes her bra. He sits her upon the toilet while he turns on the shower, steaming hot. Exactly how she likes it. She is starring @ the wall. He takes off his shoes. He removes his clothes. He climbs in first, then grabs her..and closes the curtain.

He bathes her. He washes her hair. He dry’s her off. Massages her with lotion, and dresses her for bed. Next, He gently and sloppily plants a pony tail at the top of her head.
He leads her to their bedroom, where he tucks her in. Takes her pill bottles out of his pocket, and distributes them into his hands. He suggests she eats a graham cracker so her stomach doesn’t get upset. She obliges, and takes it. She knows what’s next. She must swallow the medicine that will destroy her dreams of peace..

He stares @ her. She is still as can be..she is resting..sound asleep.

He loves her..with all of his heart.

Even though he wants children, living with out her wouldn’t be worth it.


Now back to reality *Me talking*

I know someone will love me, just like in the lyric above. I may be “mentally ill” but damnit why should that matter? But I already know anyone with any type of “disability” is looked at as less of a person. That’s cool, because trust me Bipolar is in..That means I’m in style.. ha! I am one of the great…and I know for a fact that all bitches except my dawgs are going to hate.. No though on a serious tip..If I fell in love with someone who was paraplegic and I got mad at him, what would I look like saying ha ha you can’t walk. Wouldn’t I be considered a bully and insecure with myself if I took his chair and hid it?
I have bipolar, but I’m an All-Star..

I will survive. This whole whatever just happened on blogger.com is funny to me. Trust is something that once it’s gone..it’s hard to get it back. I am the type of person though, shown through action..if I’m in the wrong, I bring it to the light. It makes my soul feel better more than it hurts to tell someone the real deal. I have a conscious, that’s why drama never was one of my friends. But karma is..but she’s a b!tch and we’re talking again.…..

I do not care..what people think of me. Just like then..in the cantankerous cold of Mich-I ain’t never going again* I will do me, and continue to watch the haters heads spin. I graduated with 55 people I believe. I was the non typical black girl..who for 6 years *2 including jr high..schools were combined* I was constantly tested on a daily basis. I would like to say looking back that is something that I am proud of. No matter how much shit they talked, or spread about me..I never fought back*Except once Tameka threw a gel pen at me and it cut my face,..It was over*lol..But really I never fed into their madness..I know that pissed them off more. I recall one incident on the bus. I was a senior on HS. The star of our girls bbteam..should have gone to the WNBA, but got pregnant @ 17 tried to fight me after a visit from a college. She talked about how she wanted to eat my face, up and how she was going to get me.

I stood up for myself that day. What made me spoke was her saying “I know what F be doing.” I spoke loud and clear. I remember what she said more than I do my reponse, but whatever it was it pissed her off. On the way back to the school she was in a rage, trying to get at me anyway she could. Of course I cried * a lot* but she never fought me, because I walked away. Jumped in my black 2-door Sunfire and drove away. In tears. I learned at an early age that black people especially the girls/women because I am one..are generally jealous, backstabbing, shit talking creators. I am the 3rd of my daddies girls..I was supposed to be a boy. That’s why I don’t have the bitch allele.

I will not let anyone hinder who I am..and who I am supposed to be in the end of this journey. Point blank. If I made it out of B.H. Mich. then I know I can make it anywhere.

I don’t need a man. To do shit for me, but help me make a baby. If he does so, that’s nice of him. I appreciate it. I would like to have a man..but need is totally different.

My cousins where I am from, most of them have baby daddies that aren’t worth a damn..and they still make it. In MI there are no jobs, and they still make it. My daddy paid child support, and you better believe when he came home from his house in Detroit, I was looking for his ass. And my daughter will be the same way. I will not take her or prevent her from seeing her father, because I know how strong and important that bond can be. I’m down here, and there is a plethora of opportunity. I will be blessed, and we will be fine.

I want to leave this place..blogger.com because it’s filled with cliques..and bitch shyt. It’s filled with betrayal and lies. I am free of this in my “reality life” except when it comes to..well..whatever. But if I have a choice, I choose not to deal with real life drama. My professor, said to me the other day in a phone conversation…He is a psychologist “Sometimes even when we know it’s best to let go of something that is hurting us, the human psyche won’t allow us to do it, even though we know it’s healthier”. My bones tell me that this is and unsafe environment.

I am sad that the person who first let me know someone was “listening” decided to leave the blog game. But I totally feel him..when your spirit is being disrupted. It’s time to go. My spirit has been disrupted for quite sometime now..and it’s time for me to go, in more ways than one.

And for the people who created all of this mess, going back emailing mis-information, my best friend karma will be paying you a visit. Not even so much the people involved in the “triangle”..the originators of this whole ordeal. You know who you are…

For now..this is me signing off..

*F*