Just One of those days

My only hope for Love and Happiness -- like Rev. Al Green said.

Seems like “just one of those days“. But these “just one of those days” seems to be my everyday. I sit down and think of ways to get him back, I think of all possibilities of him coming back to me. But hes not anymore. Im in love with only his memory, because he no longer wants to be a part of me. And the more I think about our relasionship.. I realize he never wanted to be apart of me.  On the outside looking in its so easy to say “gurl hes gone for good you can get anotha man”. But  you never felt the way it felt to be held by him, you never felt his lips pressed against yours– and you NEVER counted his freckles while he slept(hes black but he has freckes). He was my everything and how I longed to be his everything.  He was suppose to be my happily ever after.. my forever… my permanence in the world of such temporary things.. But forever was only almost two years. Forever was not eternity. Forever might just be the death of me ….

Let’s talk about the big S .. yes “SEX”

A cap from Lyfe Jennings – S.E.X video .

Sex..

 

 

Yes .

We Enjoy it ( if we are lucky) . We indulge ourselves in it . But when are we just having too much? I have had enough sex. I have had:

1-2 -3 4-5-6-7-8-9-10 -11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-22-23-24-25-26-27-28-29-30-31 Sex parters. Give or take one or two. And the real SUPRISE is that I am nowhere close to the age 25 .

Yes I suppose you can call me a young spinster . a slut . a whore . a trick . a chicken head .

BUT . fellas & sistahs

I am a VICTIM . I am a victim of lies ..  these men were not men that I just picked up on the street and had one night stands with — well not more than about 5 of them — these men told me they cared about me — loved me — and even called me the “B” word. The word that makes me spread my legs like I was doing Beyonce’s scissor legs– they called me “beautiful”.

I have loved and lost and loved and lost; until the point of almost SELF DESTRUCTION. I must admit I am a work in progress. I need a change. But losing weight? A new hair cut? New group of friends? The usual love hangover self strengthing actions– wont fix me . Im “damaged goods”. I cant trust and I am not open to loving a new person. I am JADED.

But I always get tricked. I fall for the guy who doesnt want a relasionship. Who doesnt want commitment & when hes done, with my body. He moves on — and finds himself a “wife”.  My question is .. what is so provocative about my exterior that a man cannot settle down with ME. I do not give off the “freak in the sheets, but not enough of a lady to be your wife” vibe — so why am I the girl ALWAYS chosen to be the “BUST IT BABY”. I am sick . bitter and mutiple orgasm tired .

Lala Brown said it best when she said “he will tell you all kind of things to get in your pants”

R.I.P LaLa Brown

 

-black barbie

Beauty where art thou

Beauty ? 

I have lost so much time trying to find somoene who would see me as beautiful that in turn — i have FORGOTTEN what being beautiful is ;   Am I beautiful ? Under all the make-up I use to be SEEN as beautiful — AM .. I .. ACTUALLY … beautiful .  IF the rain feel, melting away the coats of mascara , eyeliner, and cover up — reveiling the woman behind the mask . . would I cover my face? would I hide? or would I walk with my head held high because I know that with mascara and eyeliner dripping down my cheeks; I AM the SAME beautiful woman that left the house this morning . I AM the SAME woman who stops traffic with my luscious body of 36 31 42 .  Who knows ? because I dont .

It is said that If you dont find yourself , beautiful — nobody will .

What if I never find the beauty that lies within ?

Does that mean, I shall never be loved?

Does that mean — I will never be considered an object of beauty.

Am I a prisoner of my self-concious? my ugly? my exterior?

-black barbie

Introducing black barbie…

This by NO means; Is a young black woman’s depret cry for help or even the scarmbled rants from a angry black woman. I Black Barbie, am simply addressing my life issues and personal struggles, in some hope that perhaps— someone out there will understand me or even look to me as a resource to forget the drama in their life and read on mine. Through this I hope to find more about myself and unveil my insecurites and strengths.

For those who do not know me, this is not me. She is being used as a symbol of my blog alter-ego. I choose not to use my safe to protect my personal thoughts, and life experiences. The picture I found off facebook upon rummaging through public profiles. Her name is Nzinga 'Thatgirlsexy' Taylor, and if you ask if I have her permission to use her picture-- my answer to you is --- no comment ;

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