Blackrose musings - Misery Business

The mere mention of courtship in todays world stirs the kind of reaction that can be compared to when one speaks of unicorns or life outside Earth. Deciding that our own actions built on self gratification constitutes the standard of life and living we refuse to believe the possibility of anything contrary to. So obsessed with being in control we dare tp jump off cliffs to our own graves that stand like an open furnace just waiting to consume the veils of ignorance we masquerade as courage.
Which one of us i wonder, through the various dates and relationships can claim to have a heart thats still full and unscathed? Because its easy to count hurt by the tears shed in the moment and the lost weight and lost love but no, it would be a safe zone if that were as deep as we fell. For every failed attempt there is a ripple effect. No longer the trusting amd warm person you were now "all men are dogs" and "all women lie"and without trust every relationship after that is like being with a parole officer with the constant check-ups and check-ins that by now you have convinced yourself is the only way to love.
Having relied on our own understanding too long we convince ourselves that the mediocrity is as good as it gets. And if we happen to see a glimpse of what it could be like if we Proverbs 3-5'd we convince ourselves that we are the exception because your train is a one way ride to misery. There's no way anything even resembling purity and righteousness would come to us.
That's so many of us. Somewhere along the way we got comfortable getting burnt and convinced ourselves "if it doesnt hurt it isn't love". oh but shame on us, because the only man to ever suffer true pain for true love was Christ. So what we are is just plain old sinful creatures caught up in our own webs of misery.
But its love we say. Of course it is. We love each other so much that at the first chance we get we are building a highway to hell paved with all sortsof blingage from lust to adultery, fornication etc etc there is just no way we can lose,  if this isn't love right? Do they really love us if they don't burn with passion for us? After all we are not siblings we say.
Ladies and gentlemen, just because in a moment of weakness some man and woman out there decided it was okay to test drive every car in the show room before deciding on which was worthy of his cheque does not make it THE way. And here's food for thought, you as a man- test driving a hundred cars before you make your decision, woman- being driven by another hundred before one deems you worthy, by the time you find each other do you really belong to JUST each other????

Blackrose musings - INSANITY

I am NOW a firm believer, no one can hurt you even half as much as you hurt yourself. We are attracted to misery, anything that comes with a warning sign we run to. That's not a white people problem its a human people problem. I get it, the reward is much greater when one conquers the seemingly impossible as opposed to the mediocre. The fall twice as painful also so naturally one turns around to see who can be blamed. Good news is the answer is not that far out of reach, grab a mirror.
Accountability, responsibility etc not only are they big words but exemplary qualities for any human. Any that desires growth from a point of wisdom and maturity. Can't exactly grow up if you spend all your life pointing out the flaws and faults in others while you walk around with a log in your own eye that you aren't even aware of.
If you are like me then most of your hazard to self comes from a place of confusion masquerading as courage, discontent as boldness and mountains of hurt camouflaged as cold. Just cold.
Look in the mirror sometime, take a moment of self reflection. Granted at the core of our deepest hurts has been a man/woman too far gone in their self seeking ways that our feelings and emotions were to them a mere toy but in every dysfunctional equation i have found both sides of the coin bared some share of the blame.  Plus im pretty sure the phrase "takes two to tango" wasn't made famous JUST for the dance.
"How did i get here?" Sometimes thats all it takes. That one soul searching question. You can lie to the world if you want to but do yourself a favor and be true to yourself, if you can't then it might be all sorts of late for you and you are reading the wrong post. "But he/she...."NO. Just No. "Personal" responsibility, "self" esteem, sometimes it's all it comes down to. Dont get it twisted this isn't a lesson on selfishness rather one on self reflection. None of that "he/should have known better," always pointing out to see who takes the blame for all your mess.
Its true they hurt you, all of them but only as far and as deep as you let them.
Monsters do exist though and they have hurt some of the most helpless, most vulnerable in our society but we have seen and heard stories of how these men and women refused to let that define them- Oprah, Tyler Perry, Genetikz, the list is endless.
And then there is you and me, daily throwing ourselves in the pits of hell just for a brief moment of satisfaction, acceptance, triumph... and later have the audacity to cry foul because once again we got burnt. We go on rants on social media calling the male species dogs and the females whores and forget that the whole time we drove the car the check engine light was on so shouldn't be that shocking that the car eventually stopped.
Insanity they say is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. Not so sane then are we?

Shame don't live here

As a personal rule, i do not suffer shame. Not sure i would if i tried. Wait, let me explain;I refuse to suffer shame for the sake of shame. Even worse is shame for that which a mere mortal thinks i am guilty or ought to be guilty of. Lies.
But i do suffer.
Shame and guilt for the million ways i have sinned against a Holy God, my perfect father.
The knowledge of it should kill me except it frees me. I no longer fight to understand or control which is beyond me anyway. I just give it all away.
No longer obsessed with the opinions of men that refuse to show to others the grace that is showed to them daily of mercy and love and kindness and protection and provision. Lies.
Now when i struggle its to be worthy of he who is love.
So no, i do not suffer shame. If he who is perfect counted me worthy, well thats all the validation i will ever need.

Why Im not a Liverpool fan....

The purpose of isolation.
Being alone with ones thoughts often brings about some clarity. Or insanity depending on ones state of mind,  state of affairs.
And being surrounded too deep is based on the assumption that someone actually cares long and hard enough to pay attention and listen, understand even, maybe even empathize.
Assumptions are the mother of all thats wrong with the human race. Your mind churns up ideas and expectations and fantasies and foolishly mirrors it onto reality. Insanity. The hurt and disappointment when reality sets and bares the fangs of inadequacy. Why do we even bother?
Humanity is built on the the structure of interdependence and support systems, why people pay millions to have someone listen. Personally I say read a book, scream out loud, cry if u have to, pray endlessly and mindlessly without ceasing- thats the only set of ears that ACTUALLY cares enough to listen faithfully and gracefully. Everyone else is a sad state of affairs just waiting to happen.
Back to isolation, why? Thats easy, away from the hypocrisy of human interaction and the disappointment of unfulfilled promises one finds peace. I do anyway. So many people asking how you are and no one wanting to hear anything past you being okay. Saves time when it leads to nowhere. How elso do you explain telling a person you are drowning and they reply with "ok" or the unfortunate classic "lol". Its shameful is what it is. But humans wouldn't be humans without elements of need and greed all intertwined into a deep set of emotional baggage just threatening to spill over. The need gets so strong it starts to produce a stench so strong no one is trying to be around you. The greed also, no, nobody trying to be on that train wreck.
When you dig deep, if ever, does anyone really know you? Past that which you allow them to know. Past the walls you've put up. See i find most people are okay with the superficial. I don't mean makeup or weaves, well that too but thats for another day. All day indulging in conversation with this person and that person, boy and girl, lovers and friends (im talking hours and hours of your life you have no chance of ever getting back), you should know these people by now and they should know you yes? But really, does anyone really know anyone? Im starting to sound sad and even angry, im not. I have the curse of being so cold and distant ive often being referred to as being robotic, sometimes even a drone. Thats not praise,  thats recognition of a problem and now I can work on it. I may not be a fan but I am human with a need to co-exist with others. And genetically, I need it to make it past 30.

Thoughts

I failed again last night. Fell into the pits of death and darkness in sin. I knew the moment it happened, knew it was over for me. The light of hope extinguished, the spirit of peace vacated the temple leaving behind only a pile of clay. In the absence of light darkness has crept in and made itself a home in my bones. I wanted to cry, infact after a while for a while its all i could do. I couldn't pray, still can't, in my sin i pieced together the veil of the temple that was torn when Christ died separating myself from his gift of salvation, hiding myself in the garden of eden when God came calling i ate the forbidden fruit.
There is no mercy for me this time because this time i went in knowingly with eyes wide open i took the leap straight down into my personal pit of hell.
The guilt weighs heavy on my chest like a 30tonne truck going nowhere fast choking me up with shame and self loathing.
My help, my circle, the ears at my disposal are "holy" ears that will not understand or forgive my fall from grace when all our interactions are laced with scripture and righteous presentation all of it designed to keep from going down this path. The church, it is only home when you are faking the straight and keeping all else hidden so i could fit right in except my walk was never about seeking comfort in religion but in Christ. The struggle is real.
Like butchers leading sheep to the slaughter you skipped the gospel in your teachings and sermons. All of you in your suits and ties talking about your perfect lives purposefully omitting Romans 3:23 on how we all fall short. Never once teaching confession or repentance like David in Psalm 51 you just want to tell me how God will make my money long. Why aren't you telling people who's hope is gone about his mercies that are made new every day? Traded the truth of the gospel for loud crowds and television slots and having just one more twitter follower is now worth more than a mans soul. Weren't you told to be fishers of the very man you tossing into a sea of despair? And here i was thinking Christ came for the ratchet. Like me.

Petals on the bed that is my Grave

A toast to us.

In our hands champagne glasses, this is after all a celebration.

Keeping eye contact, both anxiously excited about what the rest of the night holds we take the first sip.

The smell of the crimson coloured liquid, a metallic ting, like raw iron and earth. It tastes the way it smells with faint sweetness I wasn't expecting.

Its perfect. I finally understand why vampires are unapologetic. 

He's ordering for me; our starter is "brain", human is best I am told. Its been smoked with mind numbing gas. Goes perfect with the "blood" in our glasses. The main course is the chefs signature dish, spiked "heart" laced with feelings and seasoned with a hint of emotion and my favourite dessert, "souls" baked at low heat and glazed with caramel sauce, served on a plate of illusion. It couldn't be more perfect if Cinderellas' godmother planned it herself.

Fast forward into the night, high on blood, I mean wine. Full on hearty chunks of premium human flesh and organ we are home. His home. I've been here before but tonight is special. We have waited a long time for this, 31 days to be exact. I have lingerie on, got it for this occasion, blades disguised as pieces of silk and lace woven to look like a layer of skin. I have never looked more dangerous-ly desirable. He's looking at me, peels his eyes away for a second to look at the box of condoms beside the bed, or was that a shovel? 

He reaches out to touch me and pierces a large hole in my shoulder, Edward Scissor-hands? His other hand reaches out to stroke my hair and the axe he holds pierces a hole at the base of my skull. With every touch I bleed but I cant think, left my mind on the dinner table and the rest of it still trying to find its way inside of me. The chef lied when he said the illusion wasn't potent because I still believe I am living a fairytale. My skin drenched with liquid that cannot be blood because I had that with my dinner, I reach out to return his touch. Draped in blades I slice him on impact. We are at war. Killing each other with every touch, tearing flesh and breaking each other limb by limb. Its okay though, this is why "soul" remains my favourite dessert. But wait, before we take each others breathe away, let take the shovel beside the bed and dig our graves. 

PS. this is us today. Satisfying our carnal mind at the expense of our souls.

The Black in the Rose

I recently came across an article comparing the womb of a woman to the holy of holies in scripture.
Brief history lesson;Holy of Holies was the innermost and most sacred area of the ancient tabernacle of Moses and temple of Jerusalem. The Holy of Holies was constructed as a perfect cube. It contained only the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of Israel’s special relationship with God. The Holy of Holies was accessible only to the Israelite high priest. Once a year, on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the high priest was permitted to enter the small, windowless enclosure to burn incense and sprinkle the blood of a sacrificial animal on the mercy seat of the Ark. By doing so, the high priest atoned for his own sins and those of the people.
The comparison;" Just as no one other than the High Priest could enter the Holy of Holies and live, so the so- called “priest” in marriage is the only one blessed to enter a woman’s womb.  If any other man trespasses, it means partial death to his soul and often his body, too."
I could sit here and ask "why didn't anyone tell me this before?" But that would be hypocrisy because truth is i probably heard it a thousand different ways i just didn't stop to listen. Wouldn't if you paid me.
Truth is, (and try not to judge or do, whatever works really) i couldn't be bothered! Couldn't understand what the fuss was about, in fact i hated the fuss. The men, all of them hounding you like dogs on heat just watching and waiting for you to slip. How they'd trip all over themselves trying to come up with the most tired lines just to get the "precious".
Now before you start thinking i hated the fuss so i ignored it and shut it down let me stop you right there, no, it was such a pain i decided to get it over and done with. So i went with the next guy that came along. Easy on the eyes, kissable lips- thats all that mattered, mind so slow i could fool him into believing it was his idea but a player so we could both walk away with just a handshake. (Ps. Do i sound like a man right now? I feel like I do, anyway....) 
Fast forward, lots of alcohol later we are in his room and the guy wants to start talking (a big shout out to brewers around the world) so this has to be over fast. And it is. Painful and messy and uncomfortable and just plain horrid. And im more confused than ever because really? Really? Really? And he asking if i want to go again? No i am not that far gone into the business of misery. Worst minute of my female existance (no hard feelings If you happen to read this, it is my hope that you have gotten better with time) but on the bright side i did walk away with a handshake. On the not so bright side to this day there's nothing that makes me walk away faster and easier than a bad sexual experience.  Maybe we are all damaged.
Years later; the article or the holy of holies, heartbreak and pain, new lessons and knowledge of love and living all under my belt. Knowing life as i know it now, i simply cannot believe anyone who says they have no regrets. Given the opportunity to do it all over again, bet we'd all be standing at different doors. Id like to think so anyway, but then i find im sometimes in denial about how hazardous humans are to themselves.