Late Night Thoughts…

It’s not often that I don’t have set plans for the phases of my life.  Right now though?  I’m lost.  I have no idea which way is up, left, or where I’m going.

My fam is telling me to “keep on trusting God, things will eventually turn around”, etc.  But ya know something?  My question is when?  “Keep the faith”, I hear.  “Faith without works is dead”, I hear.  It seems like somewhere along the way, while trying to keep the faith, and believing in God’s promises, He forgot to show up and do His part.

I don’t say this to challenge God, but to freely vent and simply ask, “when”?  When *will* things turn around?  I feel like I’m one step from being ass out on ev-ery-thang…and there’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’ll take that step and get to that point before I see a change.

Is this my “Job experience”?  Outside of losing my family, just about everything is gone. 

What am I, as a man suppose to do when I can’t do what I’m looked at to do?  That’s what I’m asking myself, and rhetorically, what I’m left to ask God.  I know the answer is to again, keep praying and believing, but frankly, I’m tired.  I’m spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and financially drained.  Never having enough gets old.  Feeling unfulfilled gets old.  And yet, it continues; seeming like it’ll never end.

I’m not sure how much more I can take.  I need a break and a breakthrough.  When I’ll get it, I don’t know, but I hope it comes soon.

 

Midnight Love: The Memories In The Music

If you were in college during the late 90’s to early 00’s, like me, then at some point, you probably watched Midnight Love.

Midnight Love was a late night slow jam video show that came on BET at, well, midnight.   The show played the “mellosmoothe” R&B songs of the day, and sometimes some old school, depending on the night.  I kind of planned my sleep pattern around being able to either wake up to see it, or go to sleep after it was over.  The R&B songs of that time (late 90’s to early 00’s) struck a chord because during that time, I was transitioning from BoyzIIMen adolescence to young adulthood.  It’s probably also why most music from 2004 until now is…lacking, to put it mildly.

Anyway, the overall ’93-’04 era, in my opinion, was the best because the music was the soundtrack to my formative years.  Jodeci, BoyzIIMen, Dru Hill, Aaron Hall, pre-scandal R. Kelly, Maxwell, even Gerald Levert, all had songs that instantly bring back memories when I hear them now.  Not only these groups and solo artists, but some of the lesser known acts as well.

Groups like Ideal

Profyle

and Reel Tight

also came out during the era.  These artist were underappreciated.  But the most slept on singer, for my money, during that time was Myron.

All had songs that, to this day, I listen to regularly.

The nostalgia of the songs is both good and bad. It’s good because as memories get blurred,  the songs bring everything back into focus. It’s bad because songs that fit that time, also fit the relationships that occurred during the same era.

Nevertheless, the R&B music from that time will always have a special place in my heart.  So much so, that I used to make compilations that double as  T.U.S.J.G.T.D. tapes and CDs, focusing mostly on the music from that era.  For those who don’t know what T.U.S.J.G.T.D. stands for, its:  The…ULTIMATE…Slow Jam Get The Draws tapes and CDs.  The download links to two of the compilations are below.

If you’re between 26-35, then you *should* know these songs.  If you’re under 26, then give a listen to what good music is…

Darrk’s R&B Compilation Vol. 1

Darrk’s R&B Compilation Vol. 2

*Note the transition between songs. It’s an art to the Slow Jam mixtape.*

Do you have songs that are attached to special memories? Are they happy memories, or ones you’d rather forget? Do you have any U.S.J.G.T.D. mixes to share?

 

A Letter Of Appreciation For Plus Sizes, BBWs, and Big Girls

Dear plus sized ladies,

I have a serious appreciation for womanly feeling and looking women.  I’m talking about women with “some meat on ’em”.

From the Amazonian, warrior-princess types, to the short, compact ones, I love all y’all. Where this admiration and appreciation came from I don’t know. I’d say it’s genetic, but that’s sorta silly. I do know that I’ve followed in my father’s footsteps, with regards to the type of woman I find attractive. This isn’t to say that slimmer women aren’t attractive, because they damn sure are. But my preference is for a big girl.

They’re known by a variety of different names; some affectionate, and some derogatory. I’ve heard them referred to as: thick, fluffy, chunky tenders, plus size, Lane Bryant and Ashley Stewart hunnies, etc. When it comes down to it, I simply refer to them as “thick” or “big girls”.  The descriptions are subjective. What isn’t is *why* I find y’all particularly appealing.

Big butts, big boobs, and big thighs have always been my weakness. I subscribe to the theory that too much of a good thing…is a good thing. If there is an ample amount of “thickness” to hold, touch, talk to, and look at; I’m good. This isn’t to say that there aren’t limits to my appreciation, but a woman falling in the range of a size 12-18 (upwardly amenable, depending on proportions) is ideal.

Many of the you in the category do, in fact know, that you are gorgeous. But this wasn’t always the case. In the past, and sometimes even now, society would look at big girls as undesirable, unattractive, and even slovenly. At the same time, society discounted the fact that some men (like me) actually preferred these women. When seen as a couple, there’d disapproving looks received by the two. Though they’d never admit, some men would leave a relationship if the societal pressures and disapproving glances became too much. It’s a similar, but minute, example of the feelings two people of different races would receive if they were engaged in a relationship.

But time, and society’s (admittedly slowly) growing appreciation for the entire spectrum of the feminine form has begun to change the way big girls are viewed. Women such as my wife in an alternate universe Jill Scott and Amber Riley, are upheld as paragons of beauty, and *gasp* sex symbols.  And they are not just lusted after (I think), but are appreciated as much for their inner character, as they are for their outward beauty.  The shift is pretty remarkable; and I’ll do all I can to ensure the shift keeps on shifting.

I will continue being a man that appreciates women of all sizes, colors, etc.  But, I will always be a man that sings the praises of the big girls.  Don’t belee me? Just watch.

Sincerely,

Darrk Gable

 

A Man’s Home Is Where His Peace Is

A few weeks ago I read a blog by Rae about the sometimes unpredictable nature of love.  One statement she made stood out to me more than all the others. That line was:

“…home is often a person, not a place.”

Can you say mind *BLOWN*!

I had to let it marinate for a few days before I could really tackle writing about it. It’s a simple statement, but not much in life is truer.  And yet, I feel like the ultimate feeling of “home” is when the right person, and right place, are present.

It’s especially tough for men who don’t necessarily feel like they are home, or have a home.  The restlessness that we tend to feel is not always a yearning to run wild and free, as some people would like to think.  What it really is, is that our soul isn’t at rest where we have been relegated to calling home, or have decided to call home.  The comfort and security that we need isn’t there.  Granted, it’s (usually) in a man’s power to decide where to plant himself.  However, once he’s planted, it will take him a while to truly know if he is in fact, home.

And if he’s not, it will show. He may do just enough in his relationship to keep it solvent, but no more. His emotional, mental, and physical availability will be minute. All because he’s not in a “good spot”.

There’s no feeling of peace within him. Home is supposed to be a refuge; a place of rest. He can’t get that because either the person he shares his life with doesn’t provide it, or the place is not hospitable. The worst part about it is that if he hasn’t done any self-analysis, he won’t be able to pinpoint the cause of his unrest. And if he can’t get to the source of it, peace will forever be elusive for him.

Oh, but when he does.

When he does, people will know just how dangerous such a man is. Not in a “people need to find safety” way, but in a “he’s determined” way. He won’t let anything or anyone interfere with the rest he’s found. He’ll look for ways to increase it, protect it, and cherish it. By extension, the person and place that provide it will get the same treatment.

And the man? He’ll be grateful for the peace that’s in his life.

-D.G.

Fellas, is “home” peaceful for you? If not, why? If so, how’d you get it?

Ladies, is this applicable to you? If not, why?

 

Just. Shut. Up.

Normally, I can tune out what I consider nonsense.  If somebody’s opinions on something sound foolish, or if they’re unwarranted, I’ll ignore it until the frequency changes.

But then, there are those other times.

Lately, it’s getting more difficult to consistently ignore the opinions because people have something to say about EVERYTHING!  It really grinds my gears when folks stick their nose in other people’s business.  If that isn’t bad enough, saying what so-n-so should do is even worse.  It’s not anybody else’s place to say what another grown person needs to do.  If the so-n-so doesn’t have any issues with what’s going on, then why do you (in a general sense)?

It gets worse when the opinionated one has people parroting and consigning their unsolicited views.  The former becomes empowered to shoot off at the mouth more, when really they should just. Shut. Up.  Admittedly, I sound like a curmudgeon, but so what.  Twitter says “just tweet through it”, well I’m blogging through it.

I have no idea when it’s gonna let up, but God, do I hope it’s soon.  I’m learning about myself during this time. Long-suffering, restraint, and patience come to mind.  The platitude, “God only puts on you what you can handle” comes to mind.  However, the following question is “well God, uh, when is it gonna be enough?”  That’s where I’m really at now.

Then I have to wonder, is it me that is supposed to get a lesson out of this?  Perhaps what I’m dealing with is supposed to bring out these aforementioned traits in me, but something else in another.  At this point, it’s the only logical conclusion I can come up with because I am just about at my level of having no more ****s to give.  No doubt I’ll be repenting for feeling like this later, and I’ll deal with that then.  A dude needs an outlet.  But for now, this is mine.

 

My Easiest Communication

I was reading something the other day that reminded me of a problem I have.  I have an issue with expressing myself to people  verbally.  It’s plagued me since middle school.  Put a paper and pen in front of me; I can write whatever needs to be said, and clearly.  Except, oddly enough, on the good ol’ Twittahs. More often than not however, face to face communication makes me think too much. It’s fueled by two hindering traits: having a non-confrontational (NC) nature, and being an introvert.

Depending on the subject matter of a conversation, I know I can be non-confrontational. Especially over the last few years of marriage, I’ve had to get out of that. I used to write my wife letters concerning issues I had, just to avoid an argument. This was one of the times I learned that verbal is better than written. Generally, this is true for all close relationships.

I’m lead to believe that the NC demeanor is a byproduct of being an introvert. I’m really a contrast in terms. Those closest to me might consider me very extroverted. That’s after they get to know me though. In general, I’m not big on being around too many people. That is, unless I can blend into the crowd. This is the main reason I stopped clubbing after 2 years. So yeah, the introvert in me finds it easier to write than talk at times.

It’s not like I’m trying to find the best way to frame a statement.  My mind figuratively runs a million miles a minute when talking to folks.  I can’t seem to slow it down either.  I calculate much in the seconds and moments that a conversation is taking place.  Body language, tone, past conversations about the topic, my past experiences with a topic all run through my mind.  Too much thinking trips me up.

But oh, the pen and the paper.  They are the equalizer of my communicating existence.  If given the time to respond in this manner, I get to the gist of what I want to say. A great wordsmith I am not. The message always comes through loud and clear though. There is time for me to slow down and organize my thoughts. I can say what needs to be said without any outside noise affecting the outcome. It may not work for some, but it does for me.

Plus, I can have my points ready if further discussion is needed. In a way, I feel empowered by knowing that I succintly expressed myself to someone else in the written word. It feels natural. All communication can’t work like this all the time, but even a quarter of the time and I find I’m so much more effective. Even with this, I still know I have to do better.

How long will it take? Who knows. I’ll say this though. As long as I’m clear in my meanings on various topics, I’ll continue to use the written word when my mind gets in the way of me speaking.

 

Not So Random Thoughts

While going through a rough patch, a myriad of different thoughts have circulated through my mind. These are just the the most recent ones.

When is my breakthrough coming?

The older I get, the less BS I’m willing to put up with.

When people say they are praying for you with an attitude, does that mean they really want to say eff you?

People don’t realize how serious it is to say they’re the god or gawd of something. It’s not reverential; it’s idolatrous at best, blasphemous at worst.

I really am a nerd. I’d rather read books than watch TV.

If I wrote a e-book, would it sell?

I’m working toward a degree so when I graduate I’ll be doing something completely different than my major.

The Lakers are greater than the Redskins.

I’m scared as hell having 2 daughters.

This is the first year I can remember not following my yearly ritual of getting alcoholicly plastered once.

I think I’ve pigeonholed myself by being in security too long.

Gotta stay out my feelings about things and do what God says do.

When I write, I wonder if people actually can feel the godly direction in my words.

RG3 may not make it to the end of the season, healthwise.

I wanna see the goings on of the tribulation because I’m fascinated by it, yet I don’t want to have to partake in it.

I personally feel like the animus and disrespect directed toward President Obama is fueled by racism, not ideology.

That’s it.