I find myself in a predicament that I never thought belonged to me. I married a lying, cheating, mentally incapable and sorely insecure man. He demands respect but shows none. I've heard that he prohibits his girlfriend from leaving the house without him, which proves him an overly possessive and extremely jealous fake. He has spent the majority of his life leeching off women, taking what he wants while leaving them financially and emotionally broken.
I struggle with my own thoughts because he and his siblings never stood a chance. His brother is a good man, with obstacles like all of us, but with a painful past that very likely resulted from his upbringing. His sister, a truly good-hearted woman, lives her life in a bubble with a husband who demands the irrational and she obliges. Alfredo got the worst of it. The youngest of the three and without a doubt, the most broken of the three. All three of them are victims of their childhoods, but as much as I try to find empathy, I simply can't find it for him. Mostly, because I know he's aware of what he does and as he's doing it, he's deeply tormented. It is a never-ending battle and he will never win. He isn't strong enough. Besides, he is so much like my own father and he's known that all along but he chose to deceive. Even though I chose to participate in his charade, I truly believe that he was fully aware of the offense, even while he committed it.
In 20-something days, I'll be free from the curse of Alfredo Giraud and I honestly can't wait to feel that weight lifted from my shoulders. He and I both know that he never had any intentions of staying, that his only plan was to use me and my children for as long as he could to feed his narcissistic needs. Then, blame our demise on me, on the petty, little shit that no one ever sees, let alone mentions. I saw how he treated his wife before me, just like she witnessed the same when he divorced his 2nd wife and just like she witnessed the same fucking game when he divorced his 1st wife. He has this game down to a T.
I won't give this anymore attention than it deserves. I honestly pray to every God in every belief known to man and the heavens that his new girl finds her way to my words. I hope that she's able to see through the fog of the gifts and the materials he uses to take the attention off himself, that she realizes that everything that he's told her, he's already told a million others before her. I hope that she has a support system to see her through because he will destroy her- physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually.
The last solo album that Damian Marley released was Welcome to Jamrock in 2005. That album, just like Stony Hill was legendary. I don't know much about Reggae so I won't pretend like I'm a huge fan of the genre and its lifestyle. What little I do know about Reggae is enough for me to appreciate this man's music and what little I know of the Rastafiri religion, I can say that I appreciate their beliefs.
If you haven't listened yet, I strongly recommend it. Do me a favor though... Don't just play it. You need to play this album and listen to it, feel his vibe from the beginning to the end. I promise, you won't regret it. Actually, you should start with So A Child May Follow, track 15 on the album. Oh yeah, there are 18 songs on the album!!! EIGHTEEN!!! Fuck, I can't remember the last time I downloaded an album with more than 10 songs.
In So A Child May Follow, Jr. Gong sends a powerful message to the youngins and to those leading them. Damian's most valuable genius is his ability to make people of all ages connect with his message and he killed it with this song. He addresses pear pressure and the rush to grow up that we all feel during our teen-age years. This song truly moved me and I'm glad it was the first song I listened to.
I think everyone has heard Medication, which he sings with his brother Stephen. If you haven't figured it out by now, the song is about Marijuana and its medicinal values. While I get their need for the song, I think it goes without saying that the Marleys are Pro-Marijuana. There's another song he sings on the album with Stephen, Perfect Picture. Ohhhh... that song had me day-dreaming on my ride to work this morning. Again, GENIUS.
Damian isn't known for his romantic music but damn, when he does it, he does it so fucking right!!! Between his bold approach and his intricately chosen words, he is the perfect combination of lion and lover. I'm officially hooked on that song. Everything about that song gets me feeling some kind of way. If you don't start with So A Child May Follow, start with Perfect Picture. I assure you, you'll be making babies that evening.
I won't go down the entire album, after all 18 songs is a lot to go through but I'll leave you with the MUST LISTEN list. For sure, you have to hear So A Child May Follow and Perfect Picture, but you HAVE to listen to Grown & Sexy, Time Travel is DOPE as fuck!!!, for sure you have to check out Slave Mill. This cut will expand your mind on the reality of your existence.
All in all, in case y'all didn't get it, this album is a MUST. You can not go one living without having been educated by the All Mighty Damian Jr. Gong Marley. Let the music heal you...
I've never been into sports, certainly not motorsports. I know nothing about the sport and I don't know that I will ever fully understand the dedication and commitment that goes into that or any sport. I recently met someone who has been working in motorsports long enough to have sacrificed family, relationships and personal time for himself. His love of the sport is fascinating and admirable. Mostly, because I've never felt such passion towards my own career.
I love hearing his stories of everything that goes into it, his descriptions of the beautiful places he's seen and driven through, of the adrenaline rush that he feels when his car pulls up into the pit. I'm completely engulfed by the way he lights up when he tells me about the equipment and the intricacies that go into winning a race. The lack of sleep and total exhaustion are but a minor burden in comparison to the reward of a successful race.
His energy is addictive and the more I learn about his work, the more I want to hear. Not necessarily about his work, but about him. It's been years since I've spoken to someone who excites me the way he does. My excitement isn't sexual, although there's a part of me that craves him, but the sweet thrills that I hear in his voice when he speaks of his work is something that I crave in my life.
As he educated me on the process of building his car, I felt his pride. How often do you meet someone that can build a car from scratch? I will very likely never meet someone like him again. It is quite possible that I will never come so close to a car such as the one he designed and built. I felt pure excitement as I sat in the driver's seat of this vehicle and I couldn't help but revel in that moment.
I couldn't help but notice every detail that went into the vehicle, from the carvings that make up the frame to the power of its engine, he considered every little feature. It's hard not to be impressed by his skill and attention to detail and I was strangely captivated by this machine. The sweet thrill that took over me was evident and so I wait for the smoke to settle.
Most of society is so easily blinded by the next best thing or whatever shit the media feeds the masses. People can't think for themselves anymore and they get offended when I question their views. So these zombies walk around, already programmed to think, say and feel the way the media wants them to think, say and feel. That whole scheme is so obvious. Everything under the sun in this country is governed by the politicians fucking us over as we speak but you all are too busy with 50 Shades of Grey or a stupid wall to open your eyes and think for yourselves.
Kanye isn't too far off. His message is clear as day to me but those that want to keep the truth in the dark would rather call him crazy. There's nothing crazy about wanting to live freely, liberated from cameras on every corner or Homeland Security tapping into my phone. The truth though, is that most of the population is already brainwashed and finding those few that have substance and originality has become a challenge in a graceless age.
It's hard to tell what's real these days and I get tired of walking around constantly on guard from the zombies that roam amongst me. I have very few minds that I can go to when shit goes sideways, they've always been the same ones, year in and year out. The few sane that remain in this toxic paradise... Most others have been brainwashed by whatever pretty face is hot on TV.
I've been a little uneasy about a lot of things lately. I'm nauseaus by our government and all of the ways that the politicians have literally fucked us through the years. From child trafficing to modern-day slavery... I dream of ways of leaving this fucking place. Then, there's the increase in boys pretending to be the next Christian Grey. Arrogant, little fucks assuming that women are objects to be had for their own sick, psychological disorders. I was briefly speaking to a man who has had sex with men but swears he isn't gay. What is that? Bi-sexual? Yeah... No. If you're fucking dudes, then you have gay tendancies and that's all good for some but I'm not turned on by that indecisiveness.
You have dating sites filled with photos of faces that don't really exist and social media sites filled with fictional fantasies of the lives we wish we could live. Everything seems so superficial... I know that better than anyone. Alfredo and I put on a good show for the world. Our fairy-tale was more like a living hell but I had to put up a front to feed his ego, save my sanity. Nothing is real... There's a dude in my neighborhood; we connected on Bumble a couple of times. His facial features attracted me instantly but his requests were filled with superficial, shallow, narcissisism and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him... He's raising boys that will very likely turn out like him and that cycle will continue to repeat itself as my children become adults. We will undoubtedly become the only species that will bring ourselves to extinction.
I'm told that I should know how to distinguish between higher intelligence and the itty-bitty mentalities out here. I'm trying... I hold on to hope and sometimes that in itself screws me over so I tread quietly, carefully through the weeds, with the expectation of finding the few that think higher.
I met a boy. He is a few months younger than me but he's bold and gentle all at once. His beautiful curls transport me to golden corn fields, where we ran free as kids. The clarity in his green eyes is a fantastic journey to his soul.
I met a boy. He opens doors and kisses my hand, he walks me home at night and refuses to come inside. We escape at times to the tunes of Bob (Marley) where the trees take us high to where we can see the lands.
I met a boy. He introduced me to hip-hop and abysmal thoughts. In his lightly dimmed room, with peace on the walls, he took me and loved me, and I felt free in his naked embrace.
I met a boy. He rocks me into a gentle sleep as I sit on him. His hands are the perfect support for the curves of my body. He kisses me softly and whispers his lullabies... "My queen, my love, my moon." In those moments, I am entirely his and he is mine, we are one.
I met a boy. He is a man now. 26 years after our initial encounter, he is my rock, a sweet reminder of the light in me. He takes me back to my purest form and drills into my memory who I truly am. His desire still as vivid as when he was a boy, his love for me now intertwined in his DNA.
I met a boy who became my love 26 years ago. He comes around when he knows I'm in need. I hear his love for me in his voice, I see it in the words he speaks. His love for me has never faltered and I am reminded each time of what love looks like.
I met a boy. Today he is my friend, my guardian, my flicker of light to guide me out of the darkness. He breaks through the smog that Alfredo left and reminds me without frustration, without hesitation- I am better alone. He chants, "That man has never had better than you and he never will." He chants over and over and over again... "You Are Love."
I met a boy who is now the true essence of a man and I am transported to flawless planes when I see his name appear upon my screen, back to when we were kids, living off the lands, letting Bob take us high. I met a boy.
Last night.... Oh my God!!!! Last night was the most incredible night EVER! Better than the best sex I've ever had, which to be quite honest, I can't remember who it was with. But last night...
I have an intense love affair with concerts. They take me places within my own emotions that I can't explain. Not even my $296 hypnosis session took me there. Concerts are my sweetest escape from all that is wrong in the world. It's actually the music that does it, but being in the presence of the talent that delivers the music is more than entertainment for me. For me, music and dance and the talent behind it has always been a spiritual experience and I've shared that with very few people.
The last six months have been nothing short of hellish. Everything I thought was concrete was nothing but a flowing river, passing me by as I stood and watched. The pure evil that Alfredo exposed me to was inhuman and I've needed a spiritual experience since this all went down back in June.
When I bought the ticket to see Maxwell and Mary J. Blige TOGETHER in concert, I wasn't all too excited. Mainly because my homegirl who I would normally go with to a concert like this, is no longer living here but also because I had lost touch with both artists in the last few years. Oddly, the one thing I was looking forward to was being able to enjoy a concert on my own, on my terms.
My seat was a floor seat, way in the back, next to the engineers. There was a lot of traffic there and I was ok with that because Mary was on stage by now and I just wanted to dance. After dancing by my seat for 20 minutes, three girls, a little bigger than me, showed up. They were assigned the three seats next to mine but these were big, beautiful girls, wearing beautifully uncomfortable shoes. The row I was assigned to was already filled (kinda) and before I knew it, I was getting squeezed out of my seat by three big, beautiful black girls who I really wasn't down to get into an argument with, even though I knew I would win.
An usher came, she tried to reason with the girls and the rest of the people in the tightly lined row. The usher wasn't getting anywhere and by now, Mary was preaching the good word directly to me (because it was one of those kinds of moments) and I was missing it because of this little blessing. I maintained my happiness through all this, continued to smile and dance and make sure that I was completely present in that moment but my usher had given up on the situation by now and she was directing me to her supervisor.
This sweet man, with his soft, silver hair combed neatly, his thin frame has provided for him his whole life and now the fatigue was starting to present itself in his posture. He walked me over to my seat and again began to make sense of the situation. In the end, I almost felt like they simply didn't want me there. The folks near the middle of the row, weren't claiming their correct seats and the girls who showed up later didn't look like they wanted this little, white, Cuban girl waving her arms in their space. I no longer wanted to stay at my seat. The energy was off.
I leaned in and whispered in the usher's ear, "Sir, is there any way you can put me somewhere where I can just dance and enjoy myself? I don't care where you put me, I just want to enjoy the moment." He grabbed my hand and stomped his way back to his post. I caressed his back as we marched as if to comfort his frustration. He introduced me to a younger usher. This boy must've been 19 - 20 years old. He was sweet, kind and began to lead the way.
I followed my new usher as I was mesmerized by the light show and this Queen's voice. I was under the same roof, sharing the same oxygen, in her atmosphere and I was feeling blessed to have THAT moment. When I finally came to and I was pointed to my seat, I realized how truly blessed I was in that instant, like the hand of something magical picked me up and placed me on the sixth, center row from the stage!!!! I HAD A CLEAR VIEW OF ONE OF MY GREATEST MUSICAL INSPIRATIONS and it was LITERALLY handed to me effortlessly.
I realized in that instant that NONE OF THIS would have ever been possible had my ex been there with me and I knew instantly, without a doubt, that I am blessed- far more now than I ever was when he was around. Last night was the greatest time of my life, better than my wedding day and probably more exciting than the day I divorce him. Last night was better than sex... I knew it when I threw my arms in the air, shaped my hands into a heart and Maxwell caught it. We locked our view of each other, with one hand he held the microphone and with the other, he gave me half his heart. I am forever bound to that moment... surrounded by love.
Watching these two legends together, on the same stage was nothing short of a miracle. The love they share with their fans, the talent in their voices, the way their words make your heart pound... I was submerged in their love and their light and as my son says, "It was just surreal."
Hey... Welcome to my blog about absolutely nothing other than my frustrations, discoveries, accomplishments, fantasies and everything in between. I'm not sure what the purpose of this site is, to be honest. I know that I love to write and living in Miami guarantees the craziest stories, which in turn induce the most life changing experiences, in some small way or another. I swear if I don't write about half the shit I go through, I will burst. So please bear with me. I know it's none of your business. This is my creative outlet so stay if you want. If you don't like it, get the fuck out. If you do like it, please sign up for my newsletter, if for nothing else, to help me build my email list. Thanks for stopping by!