When Meeting Someone is Not just Meeting Someone

{ December 15, 2009 @ 2:26 am } · { Shileta's Notebook }
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               I know this may seem strange but technology has taken over!!! I mean really everyone who’s anyone is connected through the Internet. Even this blog, introduces my work as well as Shane’s to millions maybe even billions of people we’ve never met before. People wanting to get noticed for their thoughts and even meet new people who they many and may not meet. Through social networks such as Twitter, MySpace, Facebook, and YouTube. People are meeting all over the world.

Do you ever wonder about the people who may be watching you?

I do!!!

So I kick you out of My Space

Removed your Face from my Book

Denied You the pleasure of watching the Tube

Stop twitting you on Twitter

Since these advancements in technology have occurred the traditional way of meeting people seems to have ceased to exist. With this technology boom comes the stalkers, and other sexual predators of the cyber universe. Yet, we are still drawn to this technology surfing across the World Wide Web. In search of things that will justify our very being–others giving us our notoriety and the chance to be seen when one no one sees us.

To Be Continued….

Time Stood Still

{ December 12, 2009 @ 3:15 pm } · { Shane's Notebook }
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By Shane

There was no way to escape the attack from the back; she lacked the strength to fend off the overshadowing presence of a predator. Who toyed with it’s prey before ferociously feasting on her tender loins. In decrepit conditions in an abandoned building, sin penetrated flesh made velvet passageways. Where death enveloped the area where life is supposed to be begin. There was no way for her to scream. Her mouth covered by a greasy palm while the other held a knife at her neck as he whispered words she’ll never forget, “Bend over, bitch and I’ll make this nice and quick.. maybe.“ So she quickly complied to get it over with.

He did like he said, he came then slipped out and back into the shadows he went never to be seen again. Leaving her leaning against a wall that offered no support for her suffering. Only scratch marks clawed in during every painful stroke. There was no way for her after wards to gather her thoughts and belongings having been unplugged. Emptied of all emotions, so she just laid there …

helpless,

frozen.

As time stood still and watched, waiting for her to mourn her loss. Innocence stripped to non-existence before she could enjoy her dreams now forever replaced by the nightmare that just took place. A virgin no more than the tender age of 15.

15% of sexual assault and rape victims are under age 12.

  • 29% are age 12-17.
  • 44% are under age 18.
  • 80% are under age 30.
  • 12-34 are the highest risk years.
  • Girls ages 16-19 are 4 times more likely than the general population to be victims of rape, attempted rape, or sexual assault.

Beaten (2009 Edition)

{ December 11, 2009 @ 3:46 am } · { Poetry, Shileta's Notebook }
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She wears a black and blue ring around her eye to remind her of her place…to reinforce that I am the one and only authority in this union…for I am the alpha male…far from being in my right frame of mind…I am far from my current reality…in a drunken range I fade from sobriety…alcohol provides the make-up needed to beautify the ugly truth…which is accompanied by a verbal attack of insults and slurred words…dark black shades help aid in the charade…I’m blind to her pain…her tears create trails as they travel down sore red cheeks that have been hit with multiple back-hands (slap)…the hideous bruises placed upon bare flesh to assert my dominance…but the make-up beautifies this…as she keeps pretending and I keep on hitting…the underline truth magnifies my own flaws…so magnificent to the point where my ignorance is no longer bliss only torment for her…I fade into the backgroung because I can’t bear to gaze at the postwar damage…your swollen eye and busted lip bleed red…in this moment I am no longer alpha male…I am just a fragment of the man you once knew…the lines of my sanity are blurred…while she trembles with every word I speak….flinches with every settle movement….she no longer feels safe when she’s with me…I am no longer her protector…she fears me…

To Be Continued….

Post War

{ December 8, 2009 @ 12:58 am } · { Shileta's Notebook }
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Trey Songz-Love Lost

Thought of Today: “Yesterday I let go, today I must move forward” ~SLG

Damn…it’s really over. No more tryna’ repair what has obviously been broken way before we got here. We both should take blame and yet I feel like I’ve been at this alone in this. Maybe it’s because I pretend to be blind to this-because I wanted someone to love. I wanted someone who would help me forget my past and enlighten me, walk with me into the being of a better future. Hold…on…stop. Instead, I was in a hostile environment tryna’ transform myself into a person YOU felt was like one of your other friends just so you could easily relate to me. So, you would no longer be aggravated by the things I say. Since you won’t say that everything that I say makes no sense and that it is meaning this to have a constructive conversation with me. I no longer wanted you to feel as though I’ve dumb down. See, and that’s just it…I got tired of trying to fix everything about me when YOU were the only one that felt I was flawed. I thought that was what you wanted even though you never said it your actions made me think otherwise. You made it clear that you still could not see ME. You were too blinded by your own way of doing things and see I accept that that was the way you did things and that you were comfortable as you were. Me…I just wanted to make you happy…I wanted you to see ME!!! Damn this!!! I was hurt by so much that was done to ME by YOU and it’s apparent that I’ve hurt you too. For that I apologize. That might mean shit to you now, but regardless of your feelings I must say that. I never meant to hurt you. But I had to let you go.  I was more hurt then loved by you and eventually I got FEED UP. We’re to different people with different ways of thinking, at different points in our lives…just all around DIFFERENT. Here we are at the end they only thing left between ass is writing because I’ve placed Black Roses on your pillow. I LOVE to write it’s what I do. It’s the only constant thing in my life at this point. Imagine that…so I’ll keep writing because I’m happy when I scribe.

Miscegenation

{ November 28, 2009 @ 6:49 pm } · { Shane's Notebook }
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By Shane

Preface

I was texting with a friend the other night and she was commenting on some of the blogs that I’ve posted. Now me and her are from the same world but then not really. The place I’m at now she left some odd years ago. You see I’m still living of this world where as she has transgressed and broke the barriers living not of this world but just in it. I won’t go into the nature of our relationship but just know it’s never been anything intimate or more than friends. Just a subject that would cause me to digress and lose topic completely. She mentioned, however, she would like to see me touch on a few social issues that’s still prevalent in our society.

Miscegenation is a term used to describe race mixing. Not that it would be a surprise to anyone except maybe the younger of generations but anti-miscegenation laws use to prevent marriage between two individuals of different races. This was eventually erased from the records in Loving vs. Virginia when the Supreme Court ruled it a violation of the 14th amendment. Even though the laws have changed and public opinion as a whole is changing. You still can’t erase hundreds of years from the history books or the stories and teachings passed down through families.  One of the major reasons interracial dating carries a stigma is it’s association with violence and the rapes partaking from institutionalized slavery.

No cause for celebration

There is no cause for celebration for black boys whom been beaten and left to die in their own blood for dating white girls. There is no cause for celebration for white boys whom been beaten and left to die in their own blood for dating black girls. No investigative documentary into the peril of their lives winning acclaim at film festivals. Stirring international consciousness; mobilizing movements or penning petitions on their behalf. There is no cause for celebration for those who found love outside there own race because America has declared them an endangered species. Our ancestors become superstars in death. Flashing lights and cop cars, always too late to protect love from prejudice. All the while the media anticipates another tragedy. Our pain, our relationships becomes sexy for the evening news. Close up with our calamities; delivered in digital clarity in the comfort of your living rooms. Yet you still you don’t get the picture.

I’m trailer trash for sacrificing my family in the pursuit of happiness.

I’ve been called everything from a nigger-lover to trailer trash for being in relationships with women outside of the Caucasian race. I’ve participated and over heard countless arguments on interracial love. My favorite statement has always been the preconceived notion that black men date white woman because by nature they’re considered more submissive or that black woman date white men because their not strong enough to deal with the will of a black man.

My question is wouldn’t it require more constitution, more mental toughness to take on the views of society as a whole?  How about the sacrifices made since I’ve personally seen friends disowned or treated with hate and discontent for being true to their hearts. How many of us can honestly say they would go against friends, family, everything they know, everything they hold as truth and disregard it all in the pursuit of happiness? I can already hear everyone thinking to themselves if I really loved that person I would. Sorry for having my doubts but no you wouldn’t.

I was in a relationship before the Marine Core where the female I was dating was almost kicked out of her house and disowned for being in love with me. I won’t contribute all of the issues we faced to me being a white male but you can’t put it past you neither. When my dad was growing up it was a different time and age. He went to a predominantly black school and being one of a handful of white kids I’m pretty sure you can put two and two together. My question is can he be faulted for his perception of other races? Can you honestly say your wrong for viewing certain people a certain way if years of experience tell you to do so?

Prejudice might be a natural feeling but racism is learned not inherited because look at me. I’ll date any woman regardless of race or creed if I think we might be compatible. If ignorance was a drug then America over dosed many decades ago. Open air has a silent whisper for those with open ears who listen. When I’m in bed at night. I find comfort in solitude and let my mind go astray as I rewind and play-back my day. Sifting through my thoughts looking at what’s been happening and the events leading up to them. If i was to be so narrow-minded that I would do ill or prevent someone from being a part of my life because of something so trivial  as skin color. My life would be nowhere near as blessed as it has not to mention all the experiences I’ve learned from and was able to pass on to others. It’s crazy because we’re all colors made of the same crayon box and lay side by side.

Like all things we learn, we can just as quickly forget. My dad has never really been a racist person and unless you knew him. You really wouldn’t know any different. However, he is my father so obviously I spent a little time around him. Enough to know his expressions and word choice to make it awkward enough that I would be nervous to invite company over. Throughout the years his opinion has changed though. His views were altered because my friends showed him something different. They broke down his walls of ignorance and proved time and time again that everyone is their own man and even though you have hate, malice in all groups. Not everyone falls into the stereo-type.

For me personally, the only issue I have with mixed relationships, however, are people who have racial fetishes. People who only talk to a specific race because of certain attributes they believe only they embody. But just as dating interracially based on stereotypes is objectionable, so is dating someone from another background because they suffer from internalized racism. The individual you’re dating, not racial identity politics, should be your primary reason for entering an interracial relationship.

Any relationship built around the wrong reasons is doomed to fail before it begins. Follow your heart and always be true to yourself and your significant other.

The Dream-teller

{ November 24, 2009 @ 7:56 pm } · { Shane's Notebook, Shileta's Notebook }
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By Shane

“Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind. For fleeting dreams have two gates: one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those which pass through the one of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing tidings which come to nought, but those which issue from the one of polished horn bring true results when a mortal sees them.”- Homer

Sigmund Freud believed that our dreams serve as wish-fulfillment bring about all our greatest desires, fears, needs, and wants. Carl Jung believes  that our dreams correct imbalances in our life. Much like our immune system that naturally fights unwanted bacteria and infections, or our natural respiratory system that sustains our life processes as we sleep. When we are out of balance with the natural patterns of life, our subconscious sends us dreams and visions manifested by our inner self.  However, all these concepts come from psychiatrists, dream councilors, etc.  who are educated to think in a particular fashion.

What if there is a deeper meaning to what resides within our dreams? What if a soul on a downward spiral and essentially everything that happens is a chain reaction leaving one action to beget the next? Every man has a weakness because we’re flawed by nature. In these flaws guilt is born and evolves into shame. Through various acts committed this shame is compensated with pride and vanity. When pride fails despair consumes and sets his destruction in motion. Somewhere in this process the flow has to stop.

What if all the beautifully horrid dreams that plague my nights is in retrospect a battle being fought over my soul. For every dream of bliss and happiness was I being touched by a guardian? Likewise, for every terror was I graced by an incubus? Are these thoughts in my conscious mirrors of my unconscious mind or influences of the battles that take place over me.

Take a deep breath. Breathe. Follow me as I lead you on this journey to the end of my conscience and we dive into my dreams.  As we plummet into the abyss I can feel myself succumbing to the shadows over me. Makeshift wings sprout taking us into flight among the darkness. Down below I can see myself tossing the ripe fruit from the tree sanity as all seems loss.  We slid down a razor blade’s affectionate kiss as my veins cried out in triumph and blood tags along for the ride.  Impure, horrendous thoughts lodge themselves in my ivory skull as my wings fade and I lay helpless next to my own body.

Paranoia.

Delusional.

Tortured.

Do you feel it? The control the incubus has over me. The power the incubus now has over us as I can no longer protect us here. Not that it matters because what do you know of how I feel? Is this my hell?

to be continued…

War Games….(Jus Random ish)

{ November 22, 2009 @ 7:07 am } · { Shileta's Notebook }
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Its that….he say, she say shit that blows me

shawty talk a good game yet she dont even know me

all fiction and no fact I dont believe she knows that shes just mad becuase I have a part of him she’ll never have.

She’s just a Replacement Girl….

I might be his past but there will be no other like me

Bah-lee-dat…..

Bedroom G

{ November 22, 2009 @ 1:20 am } · { Shane's Notebook }
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By Shane

“The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is ”What does a woman want?””- Sigmund Freud

The first time I gazed into your eyes, diving into your pupils learning your inner subconscious thoughts. It was during this exact moment in time I praised god, and could see in your expression that you were mentally trashing every dildo in your possession for you wanted me as your new pleasure device. Except this time no batteries are necessary. Like a Pavlovian dog viewing a bone I can sense  you drooling through your kitten. Your pussy-cup filling up with the Venus blessed sugar-cream juices.

I may not be what your use to but tonight I’ll be your battery operated boyfriend.

We stood transfixed in the doorway of our mind fucking each other thoughtfully, but only as servants to our desires opening a diary of newfound lust with no church to condemn us. Subconsciously I was licking your plump lips meanwhile imagining all the bedroom possibilities. The Mirror image of friends turned lovers as we beheld the  forming of an erotic sonnet around the clouds of our silhouette.

I may not know what you want but I do know what you need.

You need some head that defines illumination. That streaks light across light  and defines what being  wet really is over soaked sheets. Some head that curls nouns. That makes you want to become Picasso and become climatically inclined into painting all over a wet dream. You will create and perform and while making. You will be made. You will be molded and transformed into eloquence. You need some floating high above a purple sticky haze body rocking prayers turning into hi-def moaning head. Some daylight fading into a sweated out evening while moonlight shines against the small of my back enhancing moisture presence head. Some incomprehensible yet comprehensible emotions sketched into raging silhouettes head. You need that papaya, peach, mango fruit, bursting flavors from your g-spot head.

Relentlez Thoughtz (always updated)

{ November 20, 2009 @ 8:57 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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(on media) Watching the news always did make me giggle. It’s comical how our society is so FUCKED we have the audacity to take comfort in it.  We even have the nerve to point out the several different degrees in which we’re FUCKED. – Shane

(on break-ups) This promise ring I got you should be melted down and turned into a tongue ring. Since all our dates and anniversaries didn’t mean shit and would feel better against her clit than your ring finger- Shane

(on people who shouldn’t breed) Wtf, how the hell you g’d up from head to toe with a Coogi coat while you got your baby outside in a daiper. Two, why hell would any adult woman parade her child around with a rosemary draped over her ovaries or testees. Three, all emotionally constipated pyscho bitches should be round up and shipped to New Guinea. – Shane

(on clothing) Ok, question. Where in the history of man law has it been acceptable for any male to wear a)capri’s b)skinnies c)boy cut shorts. Not to tell anyone how to dress but seriously. Some things is common sense. Nobody wants to see your dick and cell phone tucked in one pocket and balls and change in the other. Also, if your an obese woman open back dresses and stretchy nylon material is not meant for you.I have love for everyone but nobody wants to be witness to the evolution of Shamu sprouting legs. Ladies, some of ya’ll do have pretty feet. I don’t suck toes nor have a foot fetish but if you want to wear open toe heels do yourself a favor. A Pedicure is fuckin’ awesome. I promise you, I wouldn’t lie. Dudes don’t be so conceited to parade your girl around in a club thinking your dick or mouthpiece that amazing and get pissed off when you drink a little to much and spend the night alone while she getting the brakes beat off her kitty by one your boys.- Shane

(on ex’s) Ok, when a relationship ends why is it the female always feels the need to say “You’ll never find another like me.” See I have a problem with this statement. Bitch, sorry, feeble creature if I don’t want you why the fuck would I want another like you.- Shane

(on music) Omg.. wtf is the only expression that comes to mind. I don’t even know how or where to begin. First let’s quote a lyric from Juveniles new album ” Call me santa clause cause the way i make it rain dear”  and this is one of his more clever lines.. is this really what music is coming down to.. music needs a savior and it sure as FUCK ain’t weezy.. but his claim is ture.. technically he might be the greatest rapper alive cause he charasmatic.. but as for a lyricist.. dude don’t even write his own material.. no place to stake claims.. now let’s talk about rnb.. as uaual.. r kelly spiritually constipated ass still can’t decide if heaven i need a hug to i’m a playa but your ass is phat can i impregnate you.. quote “can i plant this magical seed” from his song pregnant.. Dude.. this isn’t jack and the bean stalk what are you looking to grow? and i guess in the age of auto tunes 2009.. relationships ain’t shit unless you have a minimal of two chicks.. back to pregnant though.. 4 dudes singing harmony of girl i want knock you up.. regardless of whom the singer is can not make it sound sexy.. they all should commit suicide and join the ufo following behind hailey’s comment.. or move to anchorage alaska and they can star on the 4th kind part two.. now he has a song called #1 and he was as nice to even make a song for his number 2 chick..  and before i forget back to pregnant.. “I can hear the heavens calling let’s make this baby” what i took from it is that he got a txt from jesus saying knock this bitch up.. but didn’t want call cause minutes ain’t free and they have different providers.. like jesus walked up to the windows of they home and knocked on the glass like ey.. r. kelly her ass fat.. better give her that seed.. grow an apple tree and shit..to bad music is refered to as a chick cause they bitch bout to make me go gay.. i’m turning over a new leaf.. jazz or classical all the way.. if it got words i don’t want hear the shit..- shane

(on relationships) ok not saying this is about every chick.. but on some real shit.. majorityly speaking.. females could be football players cause this shits a science..  they will give a dude a his little pep pregame talk.. better do right and not fuck up.. so you go into the game.. and she got the next dude on the bench helping coach.. so first quarter.. you throw an interception (forget a birthday).. end up with the ball again but this time get sack (forgot a date) so this whole time.. you got the bench warmer in her ear.. if that was me shawty.. would be a touch down already.. so finally half time comes.. you get taken out the game.. and #2 steps up to z#1.. keep in mind dude been peeping game from the sideline so he come in like a damn beast.. boom touch down tennis bracelet on a birthday.. kick return..  flowers for no reason in the middle of the week.. and you so damn impressed you rooting the dude on..shits a trip seriously.. not to mention on a whole different note.. a chick will cheat on a good dude for a guy that’s fine while a dude will cheat on a good woman for an ugly bitch just cause the pussy wet and the dick hard.. lord we all need help.. – shane

(on iraq) over an estimated 100 millions of barral’s of oil reserve in iraq at roughly 68$ a barral. you do the math on why we over there.. mmph.. don’t full victim to the double talked lies fed to us for our daily diet of bullshit.. iraq.. afghan.. us military.. eta. all part of the same 7 headed beast- shane

(on alicia keys) I would definately claim any child she produce.. even if it’s outside of me.. just saying.. if you’ve seen the new video sleeping with a broken heart.. purple outfit..  if i was a chick i’d be so lesbin.. – shane

memoirs of the Damaged

{ November 20, 2009 @ 8:07 pm } · { Shane's Notebook }
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By Shane

Now what I want you to do next is listen to the sound of my voice and close your eyes.  I see they’re still open. Do you not trust me? It helps for me to close my eyes to see things clearly. To not dwell on all things present but to reflect on times when I was care free. Free from relationships, free from the hardships of life, free from myself. Close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice and maybe you’ll see that the things you keep your eyes open for aren’t worth seeing. 

Think back to a moment of innoncence, a moment of complete happiness when you where care free. Let yourself give into your desires and let go of all inhibitions. Now tell me what it is  you desire? What is it that your body yearns for? Tell me.

TELL ME.

Love has found us here seven stories south of heaven. Baby, I want  you to undress. Remove the make-up hiding the scars of lover’s past.  Undress yourself of every man who may have forsaken you. Undress yourself of every situation preventing you from becoming the woman your meant to be. Damaged goods is what you consider yourself, but why? Like you, we all have played the jester in the cruel jokes of life.  I know when you where young you never envisioned your life being a rubix cube of rhetoric neglect.  Never planned for your planet, whose seven stars align to form that pretty scar on your heart to turn to stone. A place where your spirit, your time, your flesh grows fatigued by it’s own loneliness formed by your captor. You. You, a prisoneer to your own mind.

Condemned.

Condemned to the stresses of being alone. Floating along the waves of despair. Where is your balance? A random departure from being somewhere near, to nowhere at all, to this illusion you’ve established for yourself.

I can show you how to love again. I can show you that your a vision created from fairy dust residue. Take my hand and let us leave this place of never-ever after’s. Let’s write the ending to your Grimm’s Brothers fairytale.

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