Imagine That

I get a little delusional sometimes as I float on this blue thing, kind of like a hopeless romantic who doesn’t socialize. I aspire to have godly levels of influence and aspire to exude godly levels of radical love. I imagine a world where my mere presence makes rabbits sing R&B songs as they admire me. I want to be able to just walk past a human and the unique scent of my hair gel and cologne combination cures all illnesses. I know all the kids during the winter in the Midwest will use the snow to build snowmen in my likeness. Even walls that have hundreds of years of secrets would finally gossip with me. All the grandparents would willingly share the best food recipes with only me. I could wave at a grizzly bear on a rampage and make it smile. The phrase, “God bless you” after someone sneezes would turn into “Neal bless you.”

There will be no one aging like fine wine, instead, they would be aging like fine Neal. Around me, liars and cheaters would only know transparency. The Sun only shines because it’s just happy to know that I am alive. I need a kaleidoscope of butterflies to constantly flutter right above my head in the shape of a crown. Violent hurricanes find peace when they see me smile. I want my kindness to douse wildfires in the summer. My calm demeanor would teach earthquakes how to be still. All the Sequoia trees would ask me for advice on how to grow tall. The tree leaves in autumn don’t change colors because I am all the light they will ever need. Cheetahs on the hunt slow down so they can get a better look at me.

I guess I will keep dreaming.

Singing the Blues...Again

Think about the most beautiful romance you have ever watched on film or listened to in music. Okay, now think about how great that romance would be for you to experience firsthand. It must be nice.

 Not to be dramatic, but I will probably die without experiencing some kind of genuine romance or die without ever being in a romantic relationship with someone. I surely do not see my fantasy love life ever happening, unless Thanos snaps his fingers and makes my dreams come true.

 Have you ever pieced a shattered heart back together? It is not as easy as sewing a lace front in some cornrows for a girl’s night out in Atlanta after a Gucci Mane concert.

 Have those pretty butterflies in your stomach that made you weaker than SWV ever turned into musty, hairy moths that make you want to slash the tires of your romantic interest’s McLaren Elva? Eh, who am I kidding? If you are reading this, you do not know anyone that damn rich, especially someone you used to kiss on.

 How could those beautiful butterflies that would even make a beautiful actress like Nia Long quake with jealousy turn so ugly so very fast?

 I am just ready for something genuine like 4C hair with no water, leave-in conditioner, or gel, well, maybe not that genuine. I just would love for my romantic life to stop sounding like the majority of Mary J. Blige’s songs because I am just tired of going down. I want to start being just fine. If you did not understand what I did with those lyrics just now, then please go pick up a Bible or Quran and get some culture in your life.

 It is okay because when I take over the world I actually plan on abolishing romantic love so everyone knows how I feel, it is what any iconic villain would do, right? If I catch you being in love with someone, you will be sentenced to life in prison where you will use your tongue to clean chitlins taken from sickly, alien pigs eight hours a day, and you will not have access to any toothbrushes, mouthwash, or dental floss either.

 Maybe I was not placed on Earth to experience romantic love and that is okay, right? I do not want this to be true, but the evidence says otherwise. I mean, do you want to see all the text messages of all the failures I have experienced? Oh, now you are afraid of scary movies? Right, that is what I thought.

 Animals like beavers find long term partners all the time and they do not even smell as nice as I do, so why can I not find someone? If I offended any beavers that might be reading this, I am so sorry. Honestly, if you are a beaver actually reading this, then you are better than me anyway and you most likely have a partner too, so you are pretty much everything that I aspire to be.

 Maybe I can get reincarnated into a beaver so I can experience partnership, that would be nice.

 “What is wrong with me?” I say to myself often as I experience another failed romance where I was suddenly dropped like a bag of weed on a police foot chase through Baltimore.

 Failing romance is like breathing at this point for me, except breathing is a little better because you get a chance to be alive, if that is the sort of thing you are into.

 I am worthy of being prioritized, right? I am worthy of reciprocated honesty, communication, and passion, right? I am worthy enough to meet someone’s raggedy family, right?

 I fry chicken as good as a Black grandmother from the confederate south and make great hot water cornbread. Is that not good enough? Wait, some of your Black grandmothers cannot cook though and thank god I never had to burden that kind of shame.

 Can you imagine your grandmother trying to exert her authority over you and she has Glory greens from the can and boxed stovetop stuffing cooking on the stove? I would laugh at her like the court jester she is. I would tell her to be a fucking lady! Someone who can only make black-eyed peas from the can is not qualified to give me directions and she probably does not give nice hugs either. She is awful!

 It is probably naive of me to expect a human to care about me any more than they care about a worm squirming around on the ground as they seek oxygen after the pouring rain. Maybe being a worm would be nice though, they do not get lied to or misled in any way, that must be a beautiful existence.

 Maybe I was only put on Earth to consume my favorite desserts and spend almost every second of my life thinking about how I can eliminate every social issue.

 I am tired of giving out the key to my heart just for it to be crashed in a ditch somewhere like a getaway car in Grand Theft Auto because the driver was drunk on narcissism or uncertainty.

 My heart is easy to drive and even easier to service, but it still keeps getting wrecked. I like to think of my love as a luxury vehicle made of gleaming blue diamonds, so you know the repairs are always expensive. After my heart gets crashed, I am left all by my lonesome to repair the damage and like poor people living under capitalism, it is never fair.

 Yes, I hate it here, but I love it here even more. You must play the love game if you ever plan on winning. I am a sucker for love after all, so I will just have to keep taking chances and being vulnerable until I get it right.

Transitional Blues

Transitions can be scary, just like going from the 44th war criminal to the 45th United States war criminal. Oh wait that was supposed to be president and not war criminal, my mistake. I too am about to experience a transitional phase in my life and since I am a drama king I chose to write a drawn out set of words to illustrate my thoughts instead of venting in a group chat like a normal millennial.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for taking your time out to read this rambling. I’m sure you have more interesting things to do such as scratching your ass, worshipping celebrities on social media, or trolling people on Twitter as you call them racial and homophobic slurs. Actually, I know you’re not doing any of the previously mentioned activities because you’re probably out in the world trying to come up with a plan to achieve world peace.

Honestly, I am terrified of what is to come next. You’re probably thinking I am terrified because I just saw a spider scurry across the wall in front of me and normally that would be the case, but not today. I’m terrified because nothing is coming together like I planned all of this time. I’m sure this is how the United States government must feel daily. But damn it I am not like the US government because I actually have integrity and genuinely care about others, so at least something good should be guaranteed to come way in this life, right?

I just get discouraged because I’ve actually accomplished goals for myself in an effort to set myself up for success, but a lot like your boyfriend’s beard, nothing is connecting. Was that rude of me to say? There’s nothing wrong with a beard that doesn’t connect, it probably doesn’t connect because you don’t watch enough anime or you probably think the Earth is flat. At this point of my life, I do wish the Earth were flat so I could just jump off of it and hopefully land in a better situation. 

I am separating from the military soon and I have yet to find employment or even be accepted into any school’s doctoral program. The military claims to have setup all of these programs for veteran job placement, but it’s really all an illusion just like everything else Uncle Sam does. I can’t even get a job working for a six year old at their lemonade stand.

People are always quick to ask me what kind of job I am looking for or what do I like doing. I respond by telling them I like to write with the intention of making the lives of others a little bit better if I can. People then say, “Oh that’s so cool, you should write a book!” No, I don’t want to write a damn book. And you would not even read it either. What would I write a book about anyway? My only expertise is in falling in love with people who don’t notice me and eating high calorie snacks so basically my books would be episodes of The Parkers. You didn’t get that reference because you’re either too young, hate female leads, or you probably have not even made it this far in the reading because you got upset about me saying your boyfriend’s beard doesn’t connect. Sigh.

I keep being told to just be patient and good things are sure to come my way because God will bless me. Yes, the same God that my ancestors prayed to while they were in chains building a country that wasn’t meant to benefit them is supposedly coming to my rescue. My patience is running thin, razor thin (I totally could use this opportunity to make a joke about your boyfriend’s thin hairline, but that’s just plain mean).

Often times I wonder if everything that I’ve done to build myself up was all in vain. I don’t have wealthy parents so I don’t have time to just sit on my ass and wait for something to happen. I’m not shaped like Beyoncé so being a bottle girl at a club would never work. I’m not popular enough to sell any damn books either.

Someone please send help or maybe some snacks. Actually, just send some snacks because if you send help then someone might call me and I have way too much anxiety to be answering the phone.

The Award For Best Supporting Actor In A Tragedy Goes To:Me

          So basically what you’re about to read is sort of like an acceptance speech or an acceptance letter. I am accepting the fact that I am merely just a support character in people’s lives. Support characters are only there to support the main cast and are there to get some attention, but not enough to necessarily steal the spotlight from the main characters. Pretty much everyone in my life is like a lead character and I am just a minor role type of guy I might be kind of important in some episodes, but in most episodes I am in only one or two scenes per every 5th episode. I am not saying it’s a good or bad thing it’s just the way I see it. Batman has Robin, Wonder Woman has Wonder Girl, Russia has Trump, and so on. We supporting cast members can be useful at times, but only at the expense of the leading cast. You only interact with us when you feel like it or when it’s convenient to your plot.

            I understand my purpose and why I am not good enough for a lead role though. I am honestly not all that interesting and can be annoyingly judgmental some times. I am the very last name on the list of people you call for pessimist free fun. All of the leading characters in your story could die and go to hell and you would still try and save them from hell, then try and resurrect them from the dead and then maybe ask me if that still doesn’t work. You can’t depend on me to go out to the club with you every weekend and when I finally do go out you’ll have to beg me to take a shot with you even after your 20th time asking. You shouldn’t even be buying shots in the club anyway. Didn’t you just ask for an extension on your phone bill this month? See, there I go being judgy again.

            I can tell people don’t think I am all that interesting based off of what people say. When I am bragging on the lead characters I say very encouraging words to them. I tell them that they will cure cancer one day or even better, they will make zero calorie muscle enhancing cupcakes some day. You want to know what they say back? “Oh Neal I love how chill you are and um, well you’re good at tying your shoes” Good at tying my damn shoes, something most six year olds can do. Gee, thanks.

             I am the human you can go months without talking to or even acknowledging on social media like you do your other leading cast member humans you love. If a lead character sees a post from a fellow lead character who posted a picture of a black & mild and a bag of hot cheetos, it will get six millions likes and a host of heart eye comments. Meanwhile I could post a bomb ass selfie with great lighting, with Jesus in the background doing the bank head bounce, and Donald Trump’s resignation letter in my hand and I MIGHT get one comment and a like from my dead great grandmother saying “S0 han dsom e grAn ds0n” (because you know old people can’t type to save their lives). You know what a lead character will do for me? If they are feeling generous they would just screenshot the picture and send it to me via text and say, “Lol you must be bored”. 

            As the support character, we are always expected to be there for the main cast, but that loyalty is not reciprocated. I could make a Facebook post saying “Hey everyone I fell from a 7 story building and broke every bone in my body. I am blessed to be alive all thanks to Vishnu” What will the main characters say? They would text me like two weeks later saying “Hey I saw your status two weeks ago. Hope all is well”.   

           As a supporting character I don’t expect much travel time out of anyone, it’s always expected of me to go out of my boring ass way to go see people. I could move to Ganymede and I will still be expected to travel back to Earth to come see them (Let’s pause for a second. You just asked yourself what Ganymede is didn’t you? Yes you did liar!). Anyway. “Hey why don’t you ever come back to Earth? Do you hate us that much?” No. I just live about 390 million miles away, but you can come see me right? No, that’s right you can’t because even if I lived 20 miles away you would make up an excuse and say you can’t make it because your pet mosquito is still recovering from surgery and you want to be there to support it.

            I’ve grown to accept my role in the universe I guess. Maybe one day I will know what is like to be someone’s lead character. Supporting cast members get awards and praise too right so that’s cool? I could get lucky and get my own spinoff maybe. Maybe even one day I will be the hero.

“Nobody is more dangerous than he who imagines himself pure in heart; for his purity, by definition, is unassailable.” James Baldwin
 

My Life In Formation

I really wish this article were a tale of me giving my life of sin up and turning my life to our Lord and savior Beyoncé from whom all slayings flow. It’s not though. What you’re about to read is about Uncle Sam’s military formation and how I find it to be utter garbage. I haven’t publicly addressed my military journey until now. Well I think calling it a journey is giving it too much credit. It’s more like a joyride. Not a joyride in the BMW that your Aunt Kelly is in a 20-year lease agreement for, but a joyride in the Jeepers Creepers van with Daredevil driving. And for you non-comic book readers in the audience; Daredevil is blind, that's why you were supposed to laugh.  

In the military, I never know what is going on and there is a new rule or policy every damn day. No one is allowed to question what happens either. Common sense and critical thinking in the Navy/military are forbidden. Your supervisor at work could be making you drink bleach everyday and the moment you speak up about it some old, dusty service member (which is basically all of them) will tell you to stop complaining. They love to tell you, “Well at least you’re getting paid, right?” Uncle Sam loves tradition, but the only traditions I prefer to acknowledge are traditional wings at Wingstop.

Uncle Sam is the type of character to eat a bowl of cereal with a butter knife instead of a spoon. His logic you might ask; well he’s been doing it that way all his life, so it has to be done that way no matter how ineffective it is. The majority of leadership, much like the United States, consists of straight, white men from mainly middle class or higher upbringings. So I am sure they make great decisions considering their diverse pool of knowledge they draw from. Yea, that’s the same demographic of men who built the foundation of this country by killing thousands of…never mind, we’ll discuss that some other time.

All people do in the military is chew tobacco, shoot guns, and pray to Donald Trump three times a day. It isn’t a big happy family who all has your back like I was told during training. People here are good for being in everyone else’s business too. And no, you don’t get paid extra or get smiley faces put on your uniform for being nosy. I hear all sorts of“Grab em by the pussy” talk everyday along with racist, homophobic, trans phobic, and really all the other isms/phobic type of speech. You know, all the talk that someone you love may or may not like. By the way, if you’re letting someone like Donald Trump grab you by the pussy, then I am assuming you probably need your rent paid or a free meal.  Honestly, the people here are more like sheep than anything. More than willing to do or think anything just for a paycheck and benefits.

Let’s actually discuss these awesome benefits that civilians and military sheep think are so awesome. Well we can start with our amazing health benefits with world-renowned medical staff. The healthcare here is a joke. I could walk into the clinic with my leg blown off and ten knots on my head and the doctor would probably tell me to drink more water and prescribe me a box of Lemonheads for the pain. Let’s move on to discuss my beautiful living arrangements that are fully equipped with a mini fridge and no stove to cook on. No stove? Fine I’ll just stuff my mini fridge with Capri Suns and Lunchables; that should give me enough strength for the day for sure. Thank heavens I have a microwave though, I can heat up my gourmet popcorn for dinner. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

Anyway, I am fully aware of the type of people Uncle Sam wants or needs in his military and I am not one of them. You all can sit around and see problems, but don’t fight for change all you want to. And no, I don’t necessarily want to quit; I just want Uncle Sam to do better.

“We write because we believe the human spirit cannot be tamed and should not be trained.” Nikki Giovanni

Parents, Agents of Good or Evil?

Now don’t get me wrong parents and parent figures deserve all the respect in the world most of the time. Whether your parents are Jay-Z and Beyoncé or Master Splinter and the Green Ooze; your parents have been shady and evil from the beginning. I know what you’re thinking. How can my parents be shady and evil after all the Christmas presents, trips to Disney Land, trips to Popeye’s, home cooked meals, and etc? I know many of you grew up on boxed mac and cheese, canned sweet potatoes, and minute rice, but just pretend that’s a home cooked meal for now. How are your parents shady and evil? Is the question you still need answered, right?

I only have one answer. You didn’t ask to be here, but they brought you here anyway. They brought you into this world, made you think their way, and had the nerve to boss you around for 18 years. Sounds like some form of slavery or colonization if you ask me. Who said you wanted to be bossed around? And they have the nerve to get attitudes when you ask them for stuff. If your child randomly asks you to pick apples from a tree on Jupiter, then guess what you need to do? After all, it was you who created something because you thought it was cute. Your parents brought you here and get all sassy when you need some money. How dare you be upset when you brought me here, I had nothing to do with this.

You brought me into this world with spiders, unsweetened tea, bills, sugar free snacks, and vegetables. How careless can you be? I should be able to act a damn fool everyday and you shouldn’t have any say so. And when you ask, “So what did you do with the money I gave you last week?” What the hell do you mean? I spent it and I need more. No one told you to not be a millionaire before you brought me here. You wouldn’t have to give up money if you would’ve just put the Hennessey down, turned the Marvin Gaye off, and kept your body to yourself now would you?

Parents just couldn’t resist bringing people into this miserable world. They pick your name, gender, and your first house. How do you know that child wanted the name Sir Rupert Douglass Worthington IV? How did you know that child wanted to be a girl or a boy or either? Why did you decide to take that child back home to your little beginner’s apartment? Why didn’t you have a mansion available? They have the nerve to bring other humans to this planet without consent of the child and when they bring you here they offer you the basics.

I wish there was an option for babies to go back to wherever they came from. There needs to be like an initial interview process for parents. Assuming babies would be given the ability to understand the world as an adult. I mean adult as in a halfway intelligent adult because some of you have the mental capacity of a fruit fly. Parents need to be asked questions and allow babies to do extensive background checks. Babies should be able to ask important questions such as:

·      On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your peach cobbler?

·      Do you watch anime?

·      Is your house spider proof?

·      Can you fight?

·      Do you eat an excess amount of genetically modified foods?

If the child is not satisfied, the child should be able to go back to “living” a peaceful life without public restrooms and low-fat ice cream. The potential parents will then be banished back to the hood they claim and their memories will be wiped clean by the Men in Black.

“We have to talk about liberating minds as well as liberating society.” -Angela Davis-

Mother Nature, The Stepmom From Hell

Mother Nature, I am sure you’ve heard of her. She treats me like I’m her stepchild. I’m an expert on recognizing flawed stepmoms. I have had plenty experience with observing foolish stepmom behavior including everything from screwing up Shake N’ Bake chicken to spending energy bill money on clothes from Value City. Side note, I wouldn’t wish Shake N’ Bake chicken on my toughest foe’s dinner plate. Before we advance, I have to say Shake N’ Bake chicken is a sin and it should only exist in Mortal Kombat as a fatality move.

Anyway, Mother Nature is the one that can make humans sweat and freeze all at the same time. Yes, that’s the sort of behavior she likes to engage in and she makes piss poor decisions every time. She is rude and disrespectful, especially to those of us living in the Midwestern United States.

The summer weather hysteria has already begun without warning of course. Everything from the badass young people creeping around leaving Jordan shoe prints everywhere in the neighborhood to the unbearable heat has started.

It’s not even June and the temperature outside already feels like the Devil and the Sun are slap boxing with each other. No one has enough baby powder to keep dry from all of Mother Nature’s steam room antics.

I wish we could all just walk outside naked without judgment, but Adam and Eve’s nosy asses messed that up long ago. They messed it up over an apple. Not over a piece of birthday cake or a donut, but an apple!

I bet if Mother Nature were a human she would probably be worse. She would be that mom that is always buying her kids junk food instead of real food with her EBT card. Her wig would probably smell like cigarettes and chitterlings (or chitlins for all my ebonics speaking people).

Mother Nature isn’t being nurturing like she is supposed to be. On top of her making the weather around me miserable, Mother Nature has the nerve to make the hot weather an invitation for insects to come out and play. The 24-hour warm weather outside is like a Dave and Buster’s for insects, gross.

I already don’t like humans and have actually wished you all away many times, but you mean I have to go outside and worry about insects flying in my face too? Mother Nature always makes me look like an idiot as I defend myself against flying bugs by windmilling them.

Yes. I windmill flying bugs, it’s probably a more interesting fight than that Mayweather versus Pacquiao prom dance you all bet your MetroPCS bill money on.

I just want for her to make better decisions. I am not asking this woman to be perfect. I’m waiting on some mythical CPS van full of cupcakes and air conditioning to take me away and save me from her. Mother’s Day is fast approaching and I hope Mother Nature has a super, magnificently, horrible day.

“Either you deal with what is the reality, or you can be sure that the reality is going to deal with you.” Alex Haley

My Mind Is For VIP Guests Only

We all know that introverts are quiet for the most part, well, around strangers anyway. People LOVE asking us about what is on our mind. First of all, an introvert’s mind is sacred like the Garden of Eden, not some strip club you can just ease your way into. Contrary to what most people assume, I do think about more than just snacks and sleep. Although eating snacks and sleeping are some of the few reasons why I enjoy being human. There is so much activity that takes place in the mind that only introverts can understand.

Why? In an instant, my mind could come up with a solution to achieve world peace and then transition to an orgasmic meal I had weeks ago, which is then followed by my second love called sleep. Introverts are not just being weird assholes when they respond to your “ What’s on your mind?” question with “everything”. Literally so many things are on our mind and not on display for you to read.

The absolute worst thing for you to do though is ask “like what?” For some reason the “like what?” question awakens an irritation in me that even the finest of mental itch crèmes would quiver with fear. Like what you ask? At least follow the “Like what?” question with something of significance. Maybe I want to keep some of my thoughts to myself for the moment, you mind bully.

People always want to know what is on my mind and then mock the information I give them. If you ask me what is on my mind and I tell you comic books and golden double-stuffed Oreos, that is not your cue to laugh. It’s fine, you won’t be laughing when I report your entire life as spam like I do to all of the other humans who crave small talk (the number one killer of introverts). Let’s do a little refresher before we proceed, shall we? Small talk was a tool created by Lucifer and every time people use it, Lucifer smiles because of satisfaction and twirls his weave with his finger like some hooker.

If that illustration wasn’t enough to stop you from using small talk, then all of Middle Earth is doomed. Now let’s go back to discussing the more important matters. I only share my most precious thoughts with people I have strong connections with. Only certain people are allowed to hear my precious and random thoughts.

It all depends on how you ask me. If I feel like you’re being genuine and the conversation isn’t some sick game of small talk, then I might tell you everything and more. Let me be frank, with the right amount of dark liquor and a certain level of attraction (not necessarily physical) for someone, I become more fluid with my thoughts.

I see you reading this and you’re judging me now. Do not judge me, only Hermione Granger can do that. Even if I wanted to, my thoughts are difficult to pick out and articulate some times. That’s like me going to a bakery and picking out my “favorite” pastry when they all look tasty to me. I’d rather not attempt to tell someone what exactly is going on in my mind rather than to trying to say what is going on and then leave my victim confused. Because people are so annoying and I kind of love people, I do my best to reach into my mental Gucci bag to pull out some grand explanation that you probably do not even care about to begin with.

An introvert’s mind isn’t easy to penetrate, but if you keep digging you might just find the diamond you were looking for. If you have ever gotten the chance to have deep conversation with an introvert, you deserve some sort of medal.

“At some point you have to make a decision. Boundaries don’t keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That’s how we’re made. So, you can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them.” Shonda Rhimes