I have come to the conclusion that little girls who are never exposed to anything beyond their immediate jacked up environment grow up to be women without ambition or drive except to be fucked & to get high. The same goes for the guys. Only having aspirations of being a rapper, drug dealer or basketball/football player… they treat women badly (cause women let them do it), they have respect for no one. Everyone is on a path to destruction and self implosion.
I wonder where our world we be in the next 15 years.
Been around the world, seen a lot of pretty girls But you’re the only one for me, yeah I’m happy with my choice, and a lot of back and forth I want your love exclusively, you and me
You and me one on one We can have a lot of fun lovin’ in a first degree
I, I want, I want you
Why can’t we see the love, you and I can be as one Quality time you and I, in the top of the crown You’re the the only one on the top if my list, the only one I bet you by now, you’re naked (I bet you, I bet you)
Oh and your love is good when you lick it So good to me, so damn good to me You got me hangin’ upside down and I?ve been around I think you should know by now
Been around the world, seen a lot of pretty girls But you’re the only one for me, yeah I’m happy with my choice and a lot of back and forth I want your love exclusively, you and me
You and me one on one, we can have a lot of fun Lovin’ in a first degree, lovin’ and lovin’
I, I want, I want you
Take my hand and follow my lead Yeah, follow me, got you givin? lovin’ on me, yeah Each and every time you rub your fingers down my spine You send chills through my body and you blow my mind (Blow my mind)
And I bet you by now, you’re really thinkin’ (Bet you by now) Oh, can he be serious, see your type of lovin’ is dangerous I can’t get enough, I can’t get enough
Said, I’ve been around the world, seen a lot of pretty girls But you’re the only one for me, yeah I’m happy with my choice and a lot of back and forth I want your love exclusively, you and me
You and me one on one
We can have a lot of fun lovin’ in a first degree
I, I want, I want you
Been around the world (And I seen a lot of things in my life) I’m happy with my choice (I made the right decision, yes I did)
You and me, you and me 1 on 1 You and me together
I, I want, I want you
Seen a lot of girls Been around the world I’m happy with my choice
Want your love exclusively Want your love exclusively Want your love exclusively Want your love exclusively
Want your love exclusively Want your love exclusively
I, I want, I want you I, I want, I want you I, I want, I want you I want your love exclusively
My life stayed about the same for the next couple of years. My days were spent in school, my evenings were spent playing with my friends and my nights were spent listening to music & preparing for the next day. I had a few boyfriends here and there…the odd thing was that I only was interested in dudes that were older than I was. At this time I was 14 and my typical boyfriend was between 18 and 20 years old. My mom was livid about this…so being the secretive teenager that I was, I never let her find out how old the guys were. My relationships with these guys was innocent puppy love, like talking on the phone and possibly a kiss here and there. They were older, so of course they tried for more…but I never let it go there. My interest in sex just had not developed at this stage…so it wasn’t hard for me to say no. My mother got really sick around this time. She had gained a lot of weight and my brother and I had become accustomed to her being in and out of the hospital. Her illness never made that much of an impact on my 14 year old mind…it was almost as if this is what was supposed to be happening because it was so frequent. When she was in the hospital, my older cousins or either my aunt would become our temporary guardians. We were kids, so it was all big fun.
Then one day, something in me changed. I had this strong desire & urge to go to church. WTF!!!! I had never felt this feeling before. As a matter of fact, I detested going to church. But now, all of a sudden, I wanted to go. I told my mother and she immediately called her sister who had given her life over to God about 5 years earlier. My aunt told me that there was a revival going on at her church and that if I wanted, she would come by and pick me up the next night…I agreed.
I went to church the next day with my aunt…while there this overwhelming feeling of peace came over me. I felt as if I had been enveloped by a large warm, thick blanket. That day I accepted Christ into my heart. My life had changed.
4 months later, my mother died. I was 15 years old.
After a few years, my mother became ill. Nothing major, just a bit of this and a bit of that and she managed her illness well. My mom had always been heavy, but after she got sick, she really started to balloon up and this was another reason for me to be ashamed of her. What kid wants to have a big fat mother? I mean, who wants to be teased by their school friends when their mom comes to the school and she is a fat?
We ended up moving from the projects after about 2 years of major struggle. We didn’t move into a single family home, but into an apartment. This apartment was ok, better than the projects, but only a few steps from being a project. The best thing about all of this was that I got to have my own room again. As a young girl, privacy was of the utmost. This was my retreat from my little world. I had my own TV, a phone extension and most of all a small love seat in my room. I was big shit by 1987 standards. Things there were cool. I went to another middle school and actually got more enthused about school. My mom laid off of dudes…the only man I saw around our house was my daddy and his presence was not felt that often. Right about the same time we moved to these apartments, my mother baby sister got divorced from her husband and she and her two boys ended up moving to the same complex that we lived in. They would spend a lot of time at each others apartments, but it seemed that my aunt and her bad ass boys spent more time at our house fucking it up really. Well, let me be clear: my aunt was a loud, dirty talking woman and her boys; especially that oldest son of hers was just bad and unruly. In those days, cleaning up your house on a Saturday morning was an event. My mom would wake me every Saturday around 8am; we would have breakfast and after that we would commence to cleaning: make the beds, sweep the floors, clean the kitchen (including cleaning out the fridge), clean the bathroom, change the sheets on every bed in the house, clean the window sills, clean the baseboards that run all around the house and worst of all we had to sweep the carpets cause having a vacuum was luxury that most black folks didn’t have back then. Needless to say, cleaning up on Saturday was hard work and you didn’t want anybody to come and mess up what you had cleaned up. Now back to my cousins…those jokers would come over with their mom and fuck up the house like it was nobody’s business and the killer part is that my mom would never say anything about it. I don’t think it was because she didn’t care…it was because she felt sorry for my aunt. Nevertheless, my ass would have a lot to say about it and my mouth got me in trouble. I hated my cousins and I didn’t like my aunt to much either cause she didn’t control her damn kids…but what could I do as a kid. All I could do was retreat to my room at least I didn’t have to entertain those ugly boys in there.
This time in my life marked an age of exploration for me. This is the year were I let a boy do more than kiss me. No I did not have sex with a boy…lets just say he touched me below my waist. What the hell: they called it finger fucking back then. So yes, I got finger fucked on several occasions by this dude who we will call Oscar. He was cute and he liked me and I let him talk me into doing it. The whole act seemed a little stupid but what the hell…all my friends were doing it. My rape always loomed in the back of my mind, but at this point I just wanted to be normal…but my normalcy didn’t include having sex…being raped kept me from going there with the lil boys I played with during that time. I also played with girls during that time too. Well let’s be more specific. I have a female cousin who is a few years older than I am. She and I were really close growing up. We would spend the night with each other all the time and just watch television and play games or whatever. Then one day in particular, she asked me what I thought girls kissing. My reply was yuck! Girls aren’t supposed to kiss each other. So her response was why not. She then tells me that she saw girls kissing each other in a movie and it was no big deal. She even said that they were kissing each other on their chests. So I’m like “really” well if it was in the movies, I guess its ok. To make a long story short…my cousin and I kissed each other on the mouth and on the chest (which really means on the breasts) and after it was over, I didn’t feel repulsed like I thought I would. No big deal…I went on about my life.
I remember lying on the table getting a rape kit done. At 13, having a rape kit done is totally humiliating. I was a virgin and having to lie on a cold table, legs spread eagle with your feet in stirrups while the doctor pokes and scrapes your vagina is an awful feeling. Seems like this process of examination took forever…with each passing moment I lost a piece of who I was and who I was to become.
My life was changed forever. My outgoing spirit was gone. I had no desire to be friendly with my friends. I spent all of my time indoors except for the times that I had to go to school. I became very withdrawn and shy with no desire to really do anything. I ate a lot…trying to rid myself of the pain I felt on the inside. A few months after my rape, we moved across town attempting to leave everything I had experienced behind. My mom met another man, who we eventually moved in with. He was much nicer than that first dude and I could tell that he truly cared for my mother. A year after I had been raped, my mom took me to counseling for rape victims because she said she didn’t want me to become a recluse and never be able to deal with what happened to me. I didn’t want to go, because I didn’t want to talk about it. In my mind, I had buried that experience and didn’t want to remember anything about it. The counseling helped, but I still had this void in my spirit and to fill that void I continued to eat more than I should and I still didn’t like going outside. It took many years for me to get past my fear of going outside and it took many more years for me to learn not to bury the pain I felt with food.
As the years past I got better. Although I was never the same person…I got to the point where I could function like everyone else. My mom and her man…let’s call him Willie…they were doing well. There came a point in my teenage life that my mom told me she wanted to talk to me about something. I’m thinking that she was about to fuss or give me a whipping for something I did…but instead she took me in her bedroom and pulled a small box from under the bed. She opened the box and said this is a .38 caliber pistol that we keep in the house for protection. She went on to say that she didn’t want me or my brother messing with it, but she wanted me to know where it was just in case something happened and I needed to get it to protect myself. In my teenage mind, I’m wondering why we need a gun in the house…so of course I ask. She tells me that she and Willie sell “weed” …while she is giving me the story behind the weed, she walks over to the closet in her room and pulls out this big black trash bag and brings it over to the bed where I was sitting…She says this is how we store the weed…in these bags. She opens the bag and it full to the brim with marijuana. I was stunned, because I never thought my mom would be involved in anything like this. I ask her why she is selling weed and she says: for money…”Willie and I can provide for the family in a way that has never been done before” this is why we are selling weed. Funny as it sounds today, that was a good enough answer for me. I said ok mama and went on my way. This conversation was never brought up again and I never saw the weed or what they did with it ever again. A few years later, Willie and my mom broke up and I never saw those black trash bags again.
So on twitter this morning @atlfoxy posed a random question: does the presence of music effect the speed/duration of your sex sessions?
Some said music takes away from the action at hand. Others said music is a necessity and as you can imagine the responses went on and on. Personally, music is not a necessity, it more of an accompaniment and its not always necessary. When I am wining and dining Mrs. Aquarius.Soul, there will be the romantic Isley Brothers, R. Kelly, Maze, Will Downing kinda tunes playing softly in the background. If she and I have been drinking and or smoking and the mood is raunchy, it will be more of a slowed down chopped and screwed mix or maybe even some gangsta lyrics coming out of our speakers. Then there are those times when the mood strikes and music is the last thing you have on your mind…hell truth be told: the Golden Girls may be playing in the background…LOL
So I would have to say no music or lack thereof does not affect the speed or duration of our lovemaking. What say you?
If you didn’t know it by now…Ms Jill Scott is a freak & I like that and it doesn’t hurt that she has some fantastic assets. For the past few days, I have had all of her music on repeat and ol’ girl got me feeling some kinda way. Lets examine some of her famous lyrics:
“Honey Molasses”–Who Is Jill Scott? (Words & Sounds Vol.1 )
Although the night before you were in my home, my body, my dome
In a circle of passion we Paris, Italy, Japan, Africa, Rome
We made music, we tromboooone
“Cross My Mind“–Beautifully Human, Words & Sounds Vol 2.
How…Amazing…When you would spread my limbs cross continents/Bump our bed way over mountains/Kiss this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and that.
“Epiphany“– The Real Thing, Words & Sounds Vol. 3
Rode Mt.Saint Scott ’til ooooo
Creamy lava landed on my skin and neck
Blended with my all day Chanel scent
This freaking was incredulent, decadent
Flip side,stomach meets sheets
He plows inside as if he’s making beats
As if this year’s harvest depended on it
Bendin’on it
Back on my back old fashioned is renewed
Red toenail polish on whitewalls
Documenting this freaking,ahhhhh
“Love Rain“–Who Is Jill Scott? (Words & Sounds Vol.1 )
The rain was fallin and,and slowly and sweetly and stinging my eyes
And I could not see that he became my voodoo priest
And I was his faithful concubine
Wide open,wide,loose like bowels after collard greens
The mistake was made
Love slipped from my lips
Dripped down my chin and landed in his lap
And us became new
Crown Royal–The Real Thing, Words & Sounds Vol. 3
Your hands on my hips pull me right back
to you, I Catch that thrust give it right back to you,
you’re in so deep I’m breathing for you,you
Grab my braids arch my back high for
you your Diesel engine,I’m squirting mad oil on
Ms. Jill has sang about squirting, riding, doing it doggy style, thrusting and creamy lava to name a few. So what say you…is she a beautiful freak or what?
