When is it worth it?
I’ve always wondered when it really is. Not if we are worth it. But the fights are a different story. Have you ever felt like taking a step back to think about what we’re fighting about? And why? More importantly, what we’re fighting for…
More often than not, it’s always about something so little and so insignificant that when I look back on it, I feel so foolish for even raising my voice at you. Come to think of it, I feel so foolish for getting into stupid little arguments about everything with you. I’m tired of it. Letting all these little things blind us from seeing the bigger picture. The one where you and I are together, and that’s all that should matter. That is what we should be fighting for. Because there is no doubt in my mind that our relationship is worth it.
This was a speech given August 15 1970 by Huey Newton co-founder of the Black Panther Party..here he addresses the issue of Gay Rights… Its serious food for thought coming in the aftermath of President Obamaendorsing Same-sex Message…
During the past few years strong movements…
(Source: hiphopandpolitics.wordpress.com)
I had a mental funeral service for you last week…. happy to know you’re actually resting in peace.
Heal the hate, the animosity, the regret, and anger. Set yourself free from your self inflicted prison. Can’t you see that you are both the prisoner and the warden? Majority of your problems can be summed up in one word: YOU. Question is can you get past denial to fix them?
The reoccurring deposits into men that don’t exactly appreciate you are only making you withdraw from it. You lack love, therefore, your act of giving love is lacking, and it’s becoming more noticeable.
I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again, again.
-xoxo
Often I think about hurting them, holding them hostage in a vacant building with chains at their wrist and ankles. Blindfolded. Gagged. Forcing them to remain seated until I said they could move. Day by day drugging them. Shooting a new cocktail of drugs into their arms when the last high is gone. Getting them higher than they never wanted to be. Making them beg for more. Crave for more. Cry and plead for more until they think they can’t take it anymore. And just when they’re so enraged about my neglecting them, I’ll dope them up some. Leaving them in an everlasting stupor of those drugs.
ALONE in that vacant building.
Waiting for my return, hating to hear me leave because they’d never know when they’d feel that next high again. I’d leave them there for months at a time before killing them. Each one of them would die slow. Drug induced. Waiting. Not knowing when the next day would come, if it would come. I would leave them to die with their highs being their next lows, their all time low. And when one died, I’d simply drag her out into a shallow grave out back, then replace her with the next.
I’d give them what they’ve worked so hard to take from me: my addiction. Finally, let them know what it was like to have you. All I want is to make them understand the severity of being alone and strung out on a high that never truly existed. To show them what it was like watching you leave and deceive while you schemed into the next: them.
If the people I yearn to bring justice to cannot be bound by the quest for absolution, then neither will I. So, I’m willing to give them what’s twice as bad: You.
He asked me where were my morals. It was hard for me to explain why I didn’t stop him or ask why or even plead with him not to…
The view of the wrongness of killing is not, of course, universally shared. Many people’s moral views about killing have their origins in religious views. Views that say human life comes from God and cannot be justifiably destroyed or taken away, either by the person whose life it is or by another. But in a pluralistic society (the kind we supposedly live in) with a strong commitment to freedom of religion, public policy should not be grounded in religious beliefs which many in society claim to believe and praise, but actually reject.
So it’s not that my morals are shattered or even flawed, I don’t necessarily agree with all, but I understand the various views of death.
You think of these things while thinking.
It is so hard trying to show a blind man the beauty of something he cannot see in order to appreciate it.
I don’t tolerate cheaters. Once you betray my trust like that, you basically seal the deal. Because if I’m already giving you my all, and you go off to look for something with someone else then I’ll just take that as a huge hint that you’re not happy with me and what I have to offer. And I wouldn’t want to come between you and your happiness, so just run along to the next one. I’m not stopping you. Yeah, I would be a little hurt. Who wouldn’t be? But it would be my mistake if I kept a dumbshit like you in my life still. Have fun being a shady ass motherfucker.
We’re looking at one another but no one is saying anything. Speak tomorrow. I want to give you the best of me, including a beautiful smile.
Let’s go for a walk? Forest Park. Eat ice cream? Cold Stone. My eyes staring into yours? Smiles from a different source.
Please sign this petition. It takes less than a minute. Help his family get justice..
NYC. Tomorrow is the Million Hoodie March for Trayvon Martin. 6pm down by Union Square and then marching all the way down to the UN. I’ll be there.
P.S. Don’t just like…please Reblog.
(Source: lovenmorelove)
Tell me a secret.
If you weren’t so afraid of what everyone would think, what would you really want?
Tell me about the last time your heart hammered so hard you thought it’d shatter right inside your ribcage.
Tell me about the shivers that ran through you when you met someone’s eye.
Tell me about sex, about love.
Tell me about something guilty and beautiful, about deprivation and desire.
Tell me everything, anything.
Every single confession and I’ll listen to it all.
I cannot allow myself to be genuinely joyous over someone who does not share the same feelings for me, as I do them. I respect you enough that I refuse to be disingenuous with you. And for this reason, I can no longer be apart of this charade. It’s taking such a huge toll on me. It pains me to think that I want you, more than you want me.
Find someone else to share conversation and company with. I can no longer give my heart only to receive mere chit chat and company. I deserve more and you need someone else, I simply do not “do it” for you. Knowing this, does it for me enough that I want out. I can’t waste time. Some time in the future, I am looking to settle down, but I refuse to settle for minimalism.
It’s not that I don’t have faith, it’s just… I know the type of woman I am. I act cold out of anger. I turn the cause of that anger and pain away. It’s the only way I know how to behave towards people that hurt me. I grow to hate them, to resent them. I want to hate them, but since I was not the one to determine the end result of things, I can’t. I only get the second end of the rage. I grow distant. I have to find some kind of way to shield myself once more.
and i don’t have the energy to explain.
love doesn’t last.
friendships fail.
and hearts break.
no one preps you for the lonely.
no one tells you how to ‘move on’ or ‘just let it go’.
and no one prepares you for that day when she walks back in your life and the pain begins to hurt so damn good.
