Beneath The Benevolent Sun

It started with one phone call from an unknown area code, then over the next few days the calls became relentless. Twice a day, seven days, from two different numbers on both my cell phone and home phone. With every missed call followed a voicemail on each device. Usually, I don’t bother to listen to voicemail’s, however, I decided to be an obedient twenty-three year old and follow up. That’s when I realized it was her! She has been notoriously known for decades as dark gray clouds looming beneath the benevolent sun. As you see, what was once a shadow ingeniously creeping from behind when I nourish my face in the warm sun is now hazing every corner of my being. An inevitable event when one chooses to follow the ideal path of society. The grave rumors about her power, a power that can cast a vanishing spell on you financially, weekly or bi-weekly. If you haven’t figured her out yet, her name is Donald Trump–I mean Sallie-Mae. She found me.

I had just freshly showered when the time neared a half hour past eight. The morning sun still young yet strong with her rays illuminating my messy room when the unknown–well, now, well known area code appeared on my cell phone. I cursed the air before I answered, “Hello?” This time her voice was deep and masculine trying to ask if it was I who was on the other end on the phone. Like, don’t play stupid with me. This ill-famed monster has been tirelessly sending her minions out to harass me every chance she gets. She know’s who I am. I know who Sallie-Mae is. Let’s cut the crap!  Of course, the topic was about a payment I was unsure of, in fact, I did not even know a payment had past let alone start! The new voice asked for my way of paying, either debit or credit. I should’ve said stripping, prostituting, occasional drug dealing. Sniffing coke to cope. “Debit,” I said. I forward all of my information when it occurred to me he may possibly be charging my card immediately!

“Wait, are you charging my card right now?”
“Yes.”
“Wait a minute, damn did you even see if I can pay right now! I don’t have the money at the moment.”
“I can push the date back until the thirtieth, but you need to pay before you mess up the co-signers credit score.”

Fuck. That means my mother. I hung up the phone, sat on my bed to pace my breath before I wet the tip of my fingers. fixing my posture, trying to be a big boy, I starred into the morning sun about to hide behind the building. It was something I wanted to do a the moment. Crawl and hide. Yeah, it sounds very immature. You’re probably saying how I need to man up, deal with it, it’s life, and all the other evasive sayings. The matter is, I don’t believe in that way of living: Suffocating under loans and debit while making income that barely scratches the surface, because I want try and find myself, solidify my identity the past six years. I’m only twenty three. I’m only twenty three.

I am only two decades and three years in and already I have IRS and his wife Sallie-Mae down my throat choking my prime years and other bills…Yes, other bills. Food, grooming, clothes, hobbies, school, phone, transportation. In other words, I see how depression is very profitable to the Big Pharma. Not saying I am there….yet. On a positive note, there is always good food. That will always be there.

 

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The Sunday Service in Whole Foods

382229_562747207078546_1208101830_nThe wonderful array of books, books, and more books, neatly placed on the shelves of Barnes & Noble  all in different size, colors and titles. Colorful literature with the only worry to decipher which lucky author will fulfill me today. I arrived thirty minutes early to my 7pm meet up in Whole Foods on Union Square eager to burn the isle of Barnes&Nobles with my curiosity. I spent the time pandering through the Ancient Knowledge & Hidden Mysteries, and Self-Help sections–my favorite sections ever! Picking up books that spoke deeply about Ancient Egypt and other Ancient Civilizations is a yearning of mine. I adore bridge the gap between my past and present. Plus, I am convinced humans were much more responsible and connected then todays dogma of connectivity and responsibility. Checking my phone after beating the strong wave of indecision that paralyzed me for the last fifteen-minutes, it read 7:04pm. Even when I try to be on time, I am late. It’s embedded in DNA like HTML Codes for me to be tardy.  I sent a text to my, in lack of better terms, friend that I am near while asking for his location for I surprisingly didn’t receive a text confirming my incessant tardiness.

I make way down Union Square park. The sun hid completely  on the other side of the world letting them know its soon to start a new day leaving the city the never sleeps to keep up the nightly duties. The bustling cars passed, people expediting streets,  and a couple romancing with the female shooting a quick look at me while laughing at her boyfriends tender kisses. Ahead of me reads the large green sign Whole Foods, fairly considerable in size in comparison to the competing stores but, not beating the famous numbers that stand high across a building. The numbers that rumored the end of the time, when in reality it just reads the time in military on the left and how many hours are before the hour struck 12 on the right.  I enter the health food realm with excitement until I despairingly saw the elongated lines.

I didn’t to come to spend anymore money though, I came to deliver these CD’s to a friend after a failed experience on trying to join their business plan–but that’s another story! I walk the stairs that was once unknown to me for many years. It lead to an open cafeteria filled with my dynamic people eating, talking, doing tarot cards and…with honor… people conducting a service of the Lord.

My friend raised his hand as I see him sitting next to people foreign to me. My blood began to boil in this short distance to him. I hoped to God that these strangers were not part of his team in which imagined him asking me belittling questions in front them: “Did you watch the CD’s? “, “No!, Well, why haven’t you?”, “You’re making excuses, you don’t have the success mentality like we spoke about. Remember you don’t want live in the employer quadrant!” Remember, remember, remember…Just know, I had comebacks for any and which way the windblown if his colleagues tried me.

At the table, an elderly lady sit comfortably in a black wool jacket with a matching hat. The wrinkles on her face etched and sketched every inch of her face. Another lady in a gray loose fitting sweater with fine short hair and supple brown skin sat on the end of the table. A black bag filled with books and a really bad, brown, unkept, shiny synthetic wig on top of it separated the two ladies. That wig, that beast, that horse hair was horrendous!  As I eyed this scene with much bewilderment,  I caught on my friend on the receiving end of the table. He sat with his legs crossed  and titled attentively listening to what I soon was about to learn.

I placed my bad on the table ready to pull of the agreement and leave immediately. No conversing, no trying to be friends, nothing but my ass on the 5 Train and my nose in my new book. “Are these your friends?” I asked with my face is slight disgust pointing at the weirdness in front of me. The lady in the gray sweater interrupts my question telling Ronald, the friend, to meditate on something. So I asked Ronald what were they talking about. I thought since the lady said meditate that this must be a conversation I would dive into with joy. Maybe these unknowns aren’t as weird as I thought to be. Maybe there wouldn’t a be rush to head home. Ronald who had on an orange dashiki I’m sure was made in Thailand and not Africa, shot a look up at me, “These are just people, we’re talking about being GAY.” Must he put so much emphasis on the word gay. I shook my head at the stupidity. I refused to get into some debate about sexuality. And for him to yet again talk to strangers, why couldn’t he sit alone like a normal New Yorker and be in his phone patiently  waiting for the CD’s? Have not his parents told him the adolescence rule about speaking to strangers. However, if they lured him in with candy…I want one.

Still confused as to how meditation met with being gay in a discussion, the old white lady rises from her seat in disbelief. “Something is wrong with you,” she said to Ronald.  Ronald combats her phobia  by telling me how she believes being gay is wrong for, yet of course, religious reasons. She turns to me slipping through the cracks of the tables, she was very soft spoken, so caring the tone of her voice that her ignorance felt loving and right. It wasn’t.  The lady in gray finally looks up at me. I was caught by surprise by her crossed eyedness. Things just now got too awkward. “You gay too?” asked the delicate toned elderly. “Nah, I’m straight. I don’t go through their struggles,” I said sarcastically. See, this the deal. I don’t like foolish questions that is none of anybody’s business. In these scenarios, I purposely lie in front of your face. It messes with ones prejudice or fools them completely, in the same moment, their ignorance speaks for them, as they often don’t hold back on words. “Good for you, You should speak to your friend about it,” Grandma suggested.  The lady in gray asked the same invasive  question so quickly with diligence it came off more as a proclamation then inquiry. I completely ignored her and looked to Ronald who still sat his chair sullen. His face appeared docile, innocent, and pale in expression.  The lady in gray goes in this whole sermon after Betty White trailed her nun looking ass out of our vision.

She rants horribly on how Ronald needs to meditate on his life decisions. Then detailed explained God’s workings in first person as if her consciousness was high enough to even speak for an entity the human race as a whole is slowly trying to understand. And so she went on:  “You see that lady next me I didn’t know and when she told me to take off my wig, I knew that was God speaking to me because she is a lady of faith, this is how God works. He expresses himself through you and I. He left his word. Don’t worry I accept you.” This angered me, how are you going to say you accept someone and tell one to meditate on how to live their life? When I addressed that to her, she fires her acceptance to me. Bitch, I don’t need you to accept me! I don’t even know you! How dare she flaunt her fake forgiveness in my face. The audacity of it all, be it that miserable, disgraceful relationship between her and that dirty, filthy, shit colored wig! I wanted to tell her so badly to meditate and accept that furry animal she hides under.

Instead I zipped my bag and left with Ronald following after me. The incident moments before I left in the past though Ron still felt indifferent. I made a pit stop at the Bank when he asked about my next moves, “I’m going home.”  He remained quiet before spilling out his feelings, “I’m really hurt…” I didn’t pay any mind, I was too focus on the ATM and how much money I was going to withdraw. I think twenty is doable. To be quite honest, I didn’t really care how he felt.  He has this tendency to speak to me in a chastising way especially during our business ordeal. A nasty distaste is left in my mouth refusing to care at all.

” I need a hug,” he commanded. At this point, was he just trying to stall? Because, I’m not for the nuisances and the woe is me narrative. No one told him to speak to strangers and actually sit there defenseless.  He actually agreed to meditate  on it! He made them feel right, he made himself feel weak. I glanced at him sharply, “Aw, you feel bad?” He nodded meekly before me. Just when he thought I was going to confide him in my arms like a protective brother, I pat him ever so lightly on the back. “Aw You’re a big boy. You’ll be ‘iight. When people try to undervalue me in passive aggressive ways I ignore it, or read the shit out of them, depending on the battle.” I cracked a half way smile hoping he caught the undertone shade I threw.  “You know before you came,” He started, “They old lady said, something worst then AIDS is coming my way and I am going to suffer.” My  eyes widened in disbelief. “Yeah, and to the black lady she said ‘You should take off that wig. I know it’s fake. You’re never going to get a man with that hair on.’ ” I blurted out laughing so hysterically I collided with a few pedestrians. I couldn’t believe the level of hate was going on at one table! He stood there lifeless in his poise as I tried to pick myself up and regain my composure. “I’m sorry,” I said wiping the saliva off my chin, “The health read is horrible  and this is why I don’t indulge in bitter people like her but, she flamed that other chick so badly. Now that was a classic!” He didn’t move an inch. “You know,” Ronald continued, “It’s hurts more because I am a Christian too!”  I took a deep sigh, knowing this was my cue to go home, “Well, these are your peoples. This is what they do. Hey, what can you do about it.” Placing on hand on his shoulder giving him a few shakes to wake him up from his state, I bid farewell.

I got my ass right on that 5 train, with my nose in my new book called, Science of the Mind.

 

 

 

The Master Cleanse: Day 2

The Master Cleanse: Day 2

         Day 2 is now complete and it went very smoothly.
I had about 64 oz of juice.
It’s recommended to drink six to twelve glasses of 8oz lemon cleanse.

I’m going to explain probably in the middle of the week how I break down this cleanse for the times I am at work.
My energy in day 2 was stabled, however its always the early morning of that I–guess you can say–suffer the most. It’s because of the laxative. After I drink the smooth move at night, by 4 am my stomach is in pain thus waking me up. It feels like a thousand pounds of cramps. It’ daunting like no other and when I eliminate it’s like a pea size. I assume that will be the best time to drink the salt water flush since it acts like a rinse for the system.

It was the same going into Day 3.

I am going to try to maybe drink another bag of laxative tea to better eliminate. I have to say though so far nothing crazy or dramatic going on. I am some how rushing this cleanse to clear my skin, but I keep forgetting it’s only day 2.

Well, that’s all for now! Ciao!