I figured, “Hey, Why Not Follow This Stranger Around”

I’m sitting in Starbucks with my laptop surfing the bloggers of WordPress. Starbucks is not my particular place, but its convenient.  This café is close to my home plus the weather is mild and comfortable to my skin. So I figured,”Hey, why not get some fresh air.” I ordered me several oatmeal cookies-which by  the way cost me a fortune-but it’s Sunday and I figured,”Hey, why not treat myself to my favorite cookies.” So I did.  I placed myself at a table for four. I am feeling somewhat like a humanitarian, otherwise, my ass would be at a table of two being very selfish with my space. Today is Sunday the sun is polite, I ordered my favorite cookies, so I fiqured, “Hey, why not be a little more inviting.” So I did.

I just finished posting on my blog “Too Good To Be True” When a figure decided to sit at the other end of the table. I took a quick glance. Then, I took another glance. This male is shirtless with a black Yankees baseball cap.  I did say the sun was polite, not  generous. I shrugged my shoulders without the care in the world. I thought maybe he is was waiting for somebody or maybe he was homeless. It’s none of my business anyways, the New York way!

I opened up YouTube on my browser and started playing Arianna Grande’s album that has been leaked.  I would buy the album, but this negro is broke until his credit card is clear! I was so in the zone I didn’t see the message my mother left me. “Did you cook dinner like I asked?” my mother texted. My jaw dropped I completely forgot about dinner. I checked the time and it read 6:45pm I am only 15 minutes away by foot which is enough time to cook dinner before my mom comes home.

I closed my laptop in a hurry and gathered my belonging. Before I left I took a quick glance at him. He was concentrating very deeply staring downward at the table.  “Yeah,” I thought “This guy is a weirdo.” It’s like why not meditate somewhere else.  I forward towards the door quickly thinking of maybe running home. Before I opened the double doors out of Starbucks, shirtless decides to grab my arm. I recoiled suddenly.

This guy face was chiseled with about a two week scruff on his jawline. He looked every eager and intense like I owed him something. Shirtless  asks for my name, and, for some reason, I replied. “It’s…Dontae, why?” I said cautiously. “I thought so,  I I’ve been looking for you. I need you to come with me now and you forgot this.” He handed me my half bitten oatmeal cookie I left on the table. “Oh my God, thank you this was a fortune,” I said.
“Okay, we must go.”
“Go where, I don’t even know you name”
“I cannot disclose our location yet, just trust me”
“And you name is…?”
“Black,” he responded.
“Black? That is so racist. You don’t even look black. You look Spanish and should change you name to Spaniard”
He made way out the store looking back at me chumping away on this cookie of love, “It means power.”
“I don’t care what it means,” I said “It can mean African-American. It is still racist and you needs to change you name.”
“Look time is of an essence are you coming or not?” he asked sternly.  I stood still in front of the doorway as he held the door open. I rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders. I figured, “Hey, its Sunday, nice weather, awesome cookies why not follow this stranger to an unknown location. It makes a great story to tell. I’ll have something to write about just in case WordPress makes a Prompt about strangers in a café. Like how rare that would be, right?

He took me to his all black Honda Accord. “You are so racist, its not even funny.” I screamed.  “Would you shut the fuck up already with that bullshit!” He blurted. I shook my head in disbelief. He showed me the inside of his trunk. It was filled with baby pictures of me, that I never seen before. “How the hell do you have this, where did you get this from?” I asked, worried. “Luke I am you father” he said in his best Dark Vader voice.
“You are so racist I swear, first you name is black then your car is black, now you pretending to be my dark father. You disgust me”

I awoken with the side my face red hot in a fetal position. It was pitched black and cramp. I think I am in the trunk of his car. I tried to feel around me to see if my laptop was still with me. I started to panic. I squirmed around the tight space into my pocket to call my mother. Then I thought, let me call my friend first. So I did.

“hey dontae, wait you still owe me my metrocard dumbass!”
“Shut up, Taylor, look…I think my dad kidnapped me”
“you have a dad,? he kidnapped you? where are you?”
“Look I don’t really know, just do me a favor. Go to my backyard there is a mat that is going to have my spare key to get in my house. Take it then make dinner before my mother comes home”
“Dontae are you okay?”
“Yes, Girl, Would you just do what I say please”
“I am about to call the police…”
“No! don’t look just do me that favor”
“I don’t know you already owe me a metrocard. I need to get to work….hello, are you there”
“Yes, sorry seems like we hit a bump are you going to do it or not?”
“yeah, fine, what is your dads name though?”
“It’s Black!”
“Oh Lord how racist that’s horrible”
“Right! I know, and his car is black too!”
“A Double whammy racist”
“Yes girl, okay I’m going. I’m going to text you when I can”
“Don’t forget about my metrocard either asswhole!”

Daily Prompt: Greetings, Stranger

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Mental Trauma

They argued with such vitriol that they didn’t notice the children standing between them, until the unforeseen happened.

When I think back that’s all I remember. Being a little boy deathly afraid of my father because that’s what he wanted. He spoke loudly on a daily bases to remind my brother and I we were inferior to his being. His size that stood 6’0  high and over 200 pounds, mostly muscle from his high school years of being a star football player.

His eyes were blank when him and my mother viciously argued. My mothers voice powerful for a black woman was unmatched to my fathers. Friday nights were not the glory days  adults and kids awaited for. While Fridays marked the day of freedom for others, Fridays marked the day of trauma and distraught, as it foreshadowed the hell stricken weekend. Paranoia was my best friend that manifested into a deep soulful hate that lived inside of me.

I had thoughts of killing my father for the drunk nights he would come on the weekends. I would stand only a little over 5 feet staring at him with my lips curled in, eyes pinched together, and little fist balled thinking of that steak knife. The enemy would lay passed out on the couch with his sliva peaking out from his lips while snoring.

He would wake me up and my brother up and speak to us from 11 at night till 3 in the morning about nothing. He forced us to stay up while he condemned us for being kids. He would tell us we don’t need any friends and we don’t need family. No one will care for us as his family never cared for him.

My brother and I both less then age of ten and three years apart never knew what a quiet home was between my mom and dad. Deplorable slurs of words clashed between the two giants  violently every weekend for all of my childhood.

 Nights of him sending us in our room crying behind a door while our ears were pressed against it was normal. Unbreakable nervousness rode the thick red water in our veins when he would threaten to break my mothers ankles. Tears of silent prayers ran on our cheeks.

I can’t seem to forget a history that was part of me as I remained isolated disabling the need to express my grief in what I went through at home. As it was “no ones business,” as my father would say, “what happens at home”.

So I developed the ability to compartmentalize the terror for weekends only. This was my only coping strategy although I was unaware at the time. I gained victory in my dreams as a kid when I would beat my father off my mother. Or when I do grave harm on to him falsely giving me courage I never had growing up.

For being so afraid to die in his arms.

Daily Prompt – For Posterity

Kindness Granted.

Kindness Granted.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Kindness of Strangers.”

I held the heavy metal door for the middle age man to walk through, because I know my manners. “Thank You,” he said.  The man continued to the following set of doors holding them open for me to pass, I guess to return the favor.  I walked through. “You’re welcome!” He said sternly.  I looked behind my shoulders and shrugged. I assume he wanted me to be kind. Who said I was a kind stranger anyways?

Circles and More Circles and More

Circles and More Circles and More

If you were a geometric shape (e.g. square, circle, isosceles triangle, etc.), what would you be and why?

So I am going to do part of the The Finicky Cynic “June ‘Jour’ Challenge” I am rather late in it, but this prompt stood out to me the most. It took me no time to answer either. What geometric shape would I be…hmm, easily, a circle?

So why a circle? A circle is too me the basic, original geometric shape that has the deepest meaning. It’s the basic design leading into the Flower of life symbol which is said to be the design that created the universe. As every math problem, every line, every thought stems from the creation of the Flower of Life. It is only right I pick something that represents the deepest part of me.

The Flower Of Life

 The Flower Of Life 

The flower of life is part of the sacred Geometry our ancestors some how strangely knew of. The great ancient civilizations in our human history all shared this one symbol. It can be found in every major religion some are remixed into portions of the symbol, but overall, it reaches every cornerstone of the world. It can seen etched in stone and clay tablets in flow with the story of their civilization. Somehow, the civilization knew all about this symbol with no connections with each other. How is that even possible?

The makings of the symbol consist of evenly drawn circles overlapping each other to form flower like symbols. It’s actually very easy to make with a protractor. you just draw a circle and then at the anywhere on the line of the circle you place the point of the protractor and draw the same pattern over and over. It’s quite the learning experience as every inch, every placement counts.

This symbol is everywhere in nature. As for me, while going through my spiritual journey I was enamored at the mass of information I was receiving. Learning I am part of everything and everything is part of me is astounding. A Circle is never ending as I am never ending. We are never ending. We are always is!

How fun is that…( better then being told I’m a sinful, dirty beast, born into a evil world and wickedness).

Here is SpiritScience  Better in-dept explanation on The Flower Of Life. These People are just Ah-May-Zing!

iPhone-Android

iPhone-Android

 

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “To Sleep, Perchance to Dream.”

 

           I’ve more than likely been heavily influenced by Michio Kaku’s “Physics Of The Future,” when I feel into that deep sleep. Like most dreams, it doesn’t make any sense when trying to recall, but it’s sure as hell understood in the process. When I woke up, I remembered so vividly what happened…

Everything seemed just about okay at first and you know that’s not a usual thing when dreaming. I was looking for my friend–I believe–so when can go home when she decided to dive into the lake. Stricken with fear, I jumped into the lake in search for her. What seemed to be a lake turned into an extremely deep city ruins. It appeared as if the entire city was flooded leaving the skyscrapers as the new land. All I can glimpse was the difficult of trying to breathe underwater–I mean clearly it was very difficult to breathe underwater, however, I gained no luck in search for my friend.

When I reached above water, I was in an entirely new setting. Two ladies with a moss filled boat that looked as if it was revived from the depth kindly offered assistance. We searched and search and still no luck sailing the boat passed these two corridors that then warped us into another realm.

This is where it gets tricky…

Before us a commercial appeared with headlines talking a part two of something. It felt like a video game. I was so confused. I turned around to see a random girl wet hiding behind a wall. Me and the two search buddies got really scared and one of them had the audacity to blame me. What the hell, I know it’s my dream, but girl it’s not my fault. We came to the conclusion we actually stuck in a video game.

With the realization, another friend appeared to help us leave this virtual reality.  He had a iphone-android, in other words, he held a phone with both features mashed into one. We were given hope that pressing two buttons will warp us into real life, but that wasn’t the case.

This fucking fake ass wanna be captain save no one decided to turn against us. He played a trick on us given us false hope turning into a boss character. Immediately, I snatched that phone so fast he morphed into a resident evil zombie. I was infuriated, yet, confused on how to work the phone. The other two ladies tried to tame the beast as I pressed the two buttons and of course, it didn’t work.

Now it gets super confusing…

In conclusion, my brother comes into the game with another iphone-andriod. He told me to make a call as a friend was going guide us out the game. Quickly disrupted, I saw Thors hammer and smashed the jackass hopefully to by us some more time. I pressed the two buttons again and it 75% worked. I was able to see physical reality but didn’t have enough power to transport permanently.

Then I woke up.

 

A Rose In A Hard Place: Chapter 2

A Rose In A Hard Place: Chapter 2

 

read Part 1 here 

“What would you like to order?” The waitress asked in the most courteous voice. “I’ll take the Dancing Chicken with brown rice,” I ordered. “And I will take the Crying Tiger with brown rice as well.” Anya added. “And what would you like to drink with that?” “Two cranberry juices in the largest size you have,” Anya said. “But who said I wanted cranberry–” “Shh! be quiet girl and yes that will be all,” Anya said,  outpouring her smile that can steal Wall St Investors wallets. I shook my head and rolled my eyes from knowing how Anya already acts with her robust self. She grabbed her black lambskin Christian Dior bag from her hip and placed it on her lap and started ransacking inside. “Girl, what are you looking for?” I asked.  Anya pulled out her crystal craved flask. I know she was not about the spike our drinks with her liquor. This should not surprise me after the twelfth time she spiked our drinks at even the most tasteful restaurants. “That is so ghetto Anya put it away, like now.” I tried to obscure my eyes with my hand trying to hide away from the bashfulness. “Miss Thing…I make my own money, I have my own business, if want to bring liquor I will. Plus, this is not just any liquor. This is a twelve thousand dollar diamond distilled Kors Vodka.” Anya said.

I was nearly two seconds away from hurdling out my seat to slap some sense into her. Anya is still the same girl from our high school years when we used to venture up and down the streets of Harlem in our fresh new pairs of Jordan’s. Times have changed since, now we’ve moved up from the middle class . But damn, she still got that edge all up in her, especially in that luxurious vodka. I’m not even going to lie, I wanted a taste of this diamond vodka.

“You know,” Anya started, “You honestly should have gone with us on Jessica’s trip. We had such a blast! The men were dope, we got so many free drinks, I got into at least five clubs for free, and to top it off…I had this fine ass dark chocolate, football player looking, sex God tastes my treats!” Anya started to fan herself in excitement. “You know it’s been a long time coming since I had this kitty cat primed and polished. It was worth the wait. Can I get an Amen!”

“Amen!” I shouted, but this wasn’t I wanted to hear at this time. “But Yo! Let me finish telling you what happened.”

 

 

A Rose in a Hard Place

A Rose in a Hard Place

I grabbed and my phone and made my final decision to call him. After a few rings he answered, ” I am ready for you to pick me up,” I said. “Alright, I knew you wouldn’t let me down cutie,” he said. I can hear the smile in his voice. “Haha, right, so hurry up handsome.” I snapped on the two locks on my suitcase. I looked around to check and see if I wasn’t leaving anything I may need. I took a deep breath. Alright, I think we are good here. I took the keys, my suitcases, duffel bag, and head out the door. My heart is pacing really fast. I am not sure if I am nervous about where I am going or what I am leaving, either way the thrill is what I am following. I left my 44 floor building waiting outside with my belongings. They time read 10:37 pm.  I took out my cig. Fuck! I left my lighter upstairs, blah, I really don’t feel like going back up there again. I asked the lobby attendant if he had a lighter and luckily he did. I need a moment or two.

I was half down my cig when June pulled up in his all black Hennessey Venom that I helped him pick out a few months ago. He knew that was my favorite car.  My face broke into a deep smile. I was so excited to have seem him walk out that car wearing all black everything matching his baby car. I walked up to him planting a warm kiss on his buzz shaved cheek. ” Looks like a Giuseppe Zanotti night,” he said laughing. I looked down and saw his black and gold high top Giuseppe’s matched my gold suede Giuseppe also. “Oh my god, babe you are so right, we always randomly match somehow, I love it,” I said.  He helped my put my suitcases in the. He grabbed my wrist in middle of me joyfully throwing my bags in the backseat of his car. “Are you sure you want to do this,” he said staring directly into my eyes. I got uncomfortable and looked away. Direct stares makes me uneasy as if one can read the inside of my thoughts precisely. “Look at me,” he said grabbing my chin towards him.” Are you sure about this? I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do.” “No, I am not sure,” I said, “But I want to go with you. Just take me and give me an experience.” He kissed me on my neck. It put the wide crystal smile back on my face. “Alright, so let me take this,” he said taking off my St. Laurent sable fur coat.  June opened the front passenger door to his car. “Shotgun!” I yelled. “Bang, Bang, Bang,” he said.

I checked the time again and it read 10:45 pm. Okay, I have to text him something. June asked if I was OK and I assured him for the second time that I am. I’m just…well, I don’t know what I am at this point. I just want to get away for a moment. I scrolled down in my phone to where it said hubby. Hey my hero, I am going out with Jessica and the girls tonight down in the city for some drinks, then off to the weekend trip. There is some pizza left in the oven. That’s all, love ya <3. “Who are you texting?” June asked. I flinched. “Oh it’s no one important, just my best friend. I am telling her I can’t make it to girls night tonight,” I said.
“So, you’re saying your best friend is not important?”
“Oh, you know what I mean, boy.”
” I am just asking!”  We chuckled. He started the car that immediately blasted Drake’s new album. The heavy bass rattled my skin. “So where do you want to go?” “To your place,” I said.  I looked him and saw his pearly whites against the black interior of the car. I exchanged the same smile with him. He sang along to the song horribly, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to make him as happy as possible.