Archive for March, 2012

“Animal…”

Posted in Communications, Men&Women, psychology, Relationships with tags , , on March 24, 2012 by ichas8440

Animal, to some connotes primitive.  Okay, don’t even think about slappin’ my momma because she delivered such an accepting one onto this earth, but…  I’ll accept your secondary meaning defining animal. 

When I first set eyes on “she” who would eventually remain with “me“, it was her scent.  Therefore to a degree my primal receptors were in full effect.  Once the scent stopped my stroll I immediately reflected on the classical continuity of her extraordinary physique.  Oh yes, she had it like that which is to say, what I had grown to recognize as those much sought aspects of a bio/physical thing women are required to possess that say, “I am woman and built for the journey“.  Nothing else mattered, I was hooked, allowing her to reel me in at which time, I would “make us everything she’d imagined” once on deck.  (reads anyway you’d like)  And…  Based on this, again I accept the animal association.

To accept who and what you are is hard in this forever changing society where people and what defines them is based upon media creations.  Those who say this doesn’t apply really doesn’t surprise me.  People it seems, don’t wanna claim anything with the slightest association to anything with a negative connotation.

Recently I happened to catch the premiere showing of another reality show.  This one,   “Relationship Rehab” featuring Celebrity Couples trying to do it again and figure out how to recreate the magic.  DMX aka Earl Simmons along with his legal wife Tashera made some revealing statements that got me to thinking about this relationship/communication thing from a different angle.  Tashera, was totally with the premise of the direction of the therapeutic interactions.  DMX, to a point was too, ‘cept, his realities are based on his perceptions.  Not those superimposed upon the psyche.

What transpired was Wifey pushed for her husband who hasn’t shared a roof with her in over 7 years to…  Allow for his feeling to surface.  Let himself absorb and become immersed while being heard by those there to help.  To me and based on Wifey’s micro expression, big mistake.  DMX totally upset with the intrusion into his life, even though it was probably money motivating his presence.  Became supercharged and…  Told his wifey he did not wanna get married in the first place.  She pushed for it.

Tashera didn’t seem too concerned and moved right along with the BS the Producers obviously scripted.  That is, until DMX defined to her using exact descriptive narrative snatched from her physical anatomy as to why he was attracted to her, stayed with her in the first place.  Once this, animal attraction was articulated into play you could see the dynamics of all in ear shot. change.

Those celebs comprising the shows featured characters sorta’ pulled back, saying his anger was what they were afraid of.  B.S.!  The presence of their immediate visual intimidation was the result of the psychological implications of what DMX said.  Which…  Everyone seated in that group and those filming the setting definitely felt.

Recently in my own domain I was dealt a life altering blow.  Some of the boyz said I could now start interviewing for another, (reads, seek replacement for the Wifey).  Coming from their mouths I didn’t see this as insensitive or cruel.  People place themselves just give ’em time, the proper circumstances and you will get the true essences of their being.  As for my girl, she is blessed and had been since day one.  DNA that would only produce a dime on the body side.  Something else.  The best aspects of her consciousness will always remain hidden from those who don’t need to know the goodness within. With us, certain things should remain within the confines of the home, not…  Blasted out to the world.  As for the boyz, they are merely people to kick-it with.  I choose to because I don’t like sameness in anything.  Men who are into “yes people” are reduced to minnows.  Minnows tag along and just feed, sorta like a parasite.  Women who are of the same traits do the same.  Neither will add to the growth or development of another.  Hence, I only wanna hang with those who come with something different than what I already know, add a stimulating factor.  Even if I know they are full of it.

DMX said what did and came from a place known as “Truth”.  Those words didn’t erupt  outta anger but…  Came as a result of his need to get his woman to realize they are a couple, not an oddity created for the preview and review of all who seek to examine.  And…  His way of re-establishing those borders the Wifey should have known existed.

“How in the hell did he get all that outta this?”  Simple for a non-cluck-head to decipher and it unwinds as follows.

 DMX an extreme conscious Rapper, one fully aware of his beginnings, knows exactly who and why the demons keep knocking on his door.  It doesn’t matter that these demons come in forms that are attractive to him.  That is what a demon does, caters to your faults.  The greater good is DMX still has possession of many of his reasoning faculties.  Don’t forget his famous lyrics, “Y ‘al gonna make me lose my mind, up in here up in here“.

I had another who was in my world, previous attraction if you will.  Once we established additional “structural things” she demanded that I leave the Wifey and move in with her.  Oh, tactful?  Without a doubt, DMX and I can shake a house when the need be.  She came with the sweetness in a seductive way using her sexiness.  What she forgot was…  I was animal from day one.  Her failure to listen to who I was, why I was attracted to her, was the only reason she was allowed into my life.  Call me selfish say that I was straight wrong.  Throw me under a bus.  I will snatch the axle, hang on, re-appear on the other side, and before I even attempt to wipe myself off,  I will tell you keep it movin because you are not in my life like that!

This I share because this is what I do.  I read an in-depth article spun around Caesar Milan the world renown Dog Whisper.  Wifey, in response to this said to me the man had an innate ability to whereas he can communicate with dogs on a level most don’t understand.  I smiled and when she made mention of who I was, what I did and why she was with me, I knew.  I knew.  She was fully aware of me, why we took one another’s hand and made that commitment to become “The Ones“.  She explained to me it isn’t about some piece of paper that gives you legal options and rights to another’s life and possessions.  It was about knowing who and what allowed for the continuation of happiness within one’s life.  Hummm…  I’m thinking maybe, just maybe she might be smarter than…  Nope, I ain’t goin’ there.

Animal.  That other attraction who entered my world I told you about, refused to see that we are animals.  Higher intellect but basically animals.  DMX, animal, sometimes beastly but…  During the presentation where he made mention Wifey was acting like a bitch and she…  Artfully, instantly becoming “camera ready” responded with he called her outta her name.  He, DMX came back with the definition of his words, replying with, “acted like a bitch“.  Which is a long way from calling one something other than their name.  This may of been beastly in some eyes but…  It only leads me back to “interpretation“.

My beastly ways required that I seek out legal eagles to navigate the waters I regrettably entered.  I recall how the lawyers couldn’t stand me when  I said to them.  “The law has already been legislated, mandated.  Their job was to understand where and if I was in violation, create a presentation based on their interpretation and move the Judge, Courts to see it our way.”  The final part of my words held the inclusive phrase that paid.

In a relationship you cannot keep the other outta the loop.  He and She create the loop, all others…  They are sucked in by the rotation of the loop as it turns within whatever universe it manifests itself.

Psssss;  I am animal.  I don’t bark, I won’t hiss.  I see, view, store, recall, calculate while examining and eventually decipher what is…  My world.  I speak a language easily understood, but…  Only by those who understand themselves within their world.

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P.I.M.P

Posted in Communications, Men&Women, psychology, Relationships with tags , on March 9, 2012 by ichas8440

Blue Boye, in a moment of mental lapse agreed to slowing his role, giving me the Face Time I sought so we may; “Exchange Cards“.  Yes, it was pass time and the masses needed to be put up on the “good stuff“.  Knowledge from yesterday that was still applicable today.

In anticipation of his arrival, I felt the pull of that invisible magnetism.  You know, the ingred. possessed by people who command presence regardless of their perceived place.    No, don’t get it twisted, I’m not the one into guy to guy stimuli.  My impressions centered around the images of which high-end sports car of his would be our chariot for the day.  Secondary thoughts were how to make my psychological intro.  Mental Seduction was one, but…  This would only result in a stalemate.  Still, my objective was to move beyond  those things within his lifestyle which were typical B.S..  That universal drama most present when doing an expose on such a life.  Then it settled into my mind, I was one who also came prepared.  Dippin’ into “my” bag of tricks I came out with…  Simple seeds of success.  Focus, remain reserved and deploy basic motivational tactics.  Yes, this was the approach because…  Blue Boye is a person who…  At times, is publicly vilified by those who assume to be, and…  Regardless, I had this and he was worthy of my association.  Blue Boye wasn’t just someone, he was…  Somebody.

My cell, I could feel vibrating.  Blue Boye on the other end, reachin’ out to let me know the chariot had arrived.  Stepping out my front door, back to the streets, I engaged my home security system.  Turning, I was met with the presence of an ‘Ol School lookin’ chauffeur, door open while he stood next to the limo.  Dress…  Immaculate, nicely fitted 2 piece suit.  Black on Black, feet encased with a classic pair of driving shoes.  Color, two-tone, camel with tan.  Oh…  The Kango, it matched the shoes.  Sight seen, I knew the day was going to be fantastic.

Easing into the passenger compartment the first thing noticeable was the scent of musk.  Silently I thought, “good move it beat the stale smell of already smoked cigars“.  Blue Boye, his back to me, stared out the window completely silent.  Most would have ran with the assumptions.  With me, it was all about that swagger.  The pose, posture, the scented cab.  Wasn’t even an issue, I was feelin’ all of it.

A left here, a right there, we pulled out of the Avenues, leaving behind my residential community.  We were now on…  Boulevard One, aka; anywhere in America.  Blue Boye in a subtle tone, inquired if it would be an inconvenience if he popped into the bank to get some ends before we continued.  Really, didn’t matter to me despite ATMs being almost everywhere.

Inside the bank I immediately noticed the set-up wasn’t typical of present day U.S. banks.  This one was all about extending to its customer that personal banking experience.  Another “throwback“, a way of conducting business which I’ve always enjoyed.  Sorta’ establishes the platform, defining to the customer their importance.  Seated, he engaged with a male manager who felt Blue Boye nor I could see through his fake-ass salutations.  As I watched I wonder if this manager even knew his monthly performance was definitely attached to the account Blue Boye maintained with the bank.

Idle pleasantries dispensed with the male manager abruptly motioned to his secretary.  She…  Acting as if preparing some docs. jumped to attention.  My impression; the Puppet Master pulled the strings and the puppet performed its part.  She disappeared, then poof.  As if on cue, re-appeared with whatever the male manager sent her off to fetch.

Again, the pomp & pageantry played out between male manager and Blue Boye, who accepted the bank’s envelope extended by the male manager who took possession of it from his female sect. We…  Became invisible.

Back inside the limo, a couple of bottles of grapefruit juice in hand, a saluted was in-order.  Recognition of those who came before.  We clanged our bottles, raised ’em to the sky in a further sign, offering respect.  As if linked, we eased deeper down into the plush seats, quietly enjoying the room temp drinks.  Stymie Ed the chauffeur, voice blended in with the music as a brief convo ensued between him and Blue Boye.  Directions given, Stymie Ed concurred.  I watched absorbingly.  He adjusting the music with the other hand remaining on the steering wheel.  The limo…  Moving continuously with the traffic, winding, stopping, going, and…  Our drinks resting on the custom granite table-top didn’t even spill.  Continuity, oh yeah.

My plan, commence with a simple Q & A, but…  Another stop was cause for a temporary suspension.  This stop, a department store.  He needed to purchase some toys.  Gifts for his nieces and nephews whom…   Achieved their academic marks as agreed so Blue Boye being of sound ethics, was bound to “pay up”.  I made a mental note all this playing out, cause.  As we all know, this isn’t how it’s ‘pose to be.

The sudden appearance of a sales associated told the both of us something.  Not just that we were on camera, but…  Our indecision on what to buy and holding more than one item had somehow, some way caused confusion in the minds of those who watched.  She approached, complete with plastic smiles, forcing the appearance of cheerfulness, despite pulling on her panties.  Closer and closer she came and as if preempted, blurts out Mr. Somebody told her two males in the toy section needed immediate assistance, and…  She’d better get there with the quickness.  We hadn’t asked but she felt a compulsion to explain the strong inference her male boss put on letting her know what her job description entailed.  Not our place to concern ourselves one way or the other.  The contempt was evident but.  She signed up for this.

Gifts in hand, headed back to the car, we stopped.  He heard just as I.  Those undeniable growls erupting when one needs to feed.  SmashBurgers appeared, called us to step inside.  Approaching the counter, we were met by happy faced females.  Like the sales-associate in the department store, smile with recently whitening teeth.  The manager, un hun.  Another male, lurked just outta sight.  Still, we noticed him moving in an around those already with food and wanting to dine in peace.  He glanced our way, not once, not twice.  Okay, he started to stare then, motioned to the girls who…  Went into their spill, making suggestions which might speed up our dining pleasures.

Good food, little conversation cause…  Yes, when men are hungry they eat.  As we chow down a clear indication of the character of Blue Boye was taking shape.  The camaraderie, I was feeling it also.

Outside, along the shops dotting the shoreline, Blue Boye stops, meanders aimlessly.  I, inhaling the essence of the incense the shop worker lite for me allowed for an advantage.  Glancing over the rim of my sun-shades there was Stymie Ed, a couple of stalls behind.  The math was simple, Blue Boye was making sure no body lost sight of the other.

The day morphed into night, the lights sparkled off in the distance as we headed back into another residential community.  This time, we were headed to his home in the hills.  As I rode I thought, “good choice”, no renta cops roving around on their golf carts or bikes.  The locale didn’t surprise me, Blue Boye thought ahead.  No dreaded HOA for him.  Imagine, being in an area leading the life he did.  All the intrusive tactics such an organization deploys, yes, good choice of residency.  Best of all, security wasn’t compromise.  With our approach towards each property the over-head street lights came on in a sequential order.  Motion sensing monitors.

Blue Boye, leaned over, handed me a hand-held device.  Suggested I aim it in no particular order at any of the homes.  A toy I thought, ’til the lights started blinking in this methodical sequence I thought was random until…  He mentioned that it was something he’d picked-up at the local spy shop, a fascinating unit cause it registered the positions of all the thermal imaging sensors the homeowners used in this area.  Plus, it had the capabilities of detect slight changes in electronic emissions.  A security feature letting the homeowner know if anyone stepped onto their property.  I guess there is no longer a separation distinguishing the tools of spies, burglars or home owners in America’s suburbs.

Arriving at his spot, the ornate iron gates surrounding it parted without a sound.  We drove up the driveway, followed by a pack of silent dogs.  We stopped, got out and the dogs…  Went crazy at the arrival of their master.  Did the same to me, but…  I wasn’t fooled.  This crew had a dual purpose.  Pets and pretenders of being a part of the nice squad.  Given a change in temperament, they’d do what they do; get my ass without hesitation.

Inside the home, I immediately got a feel of being in a home and not just a house.  At this point many would expect to be led into a massive room, possibly somewhere off to the side, equipped with all the latest video games.  In addition, provided with Cuban cigars  while seats were taken to compete.  Maybe, after a few games, pause, take a tour, marvel at all the treasures Blue Boye’s home was expected to be adorn in.  We didn’t do any of this.  We sat together and watch some T.V.  Our joint interests were nature shows.  This one show we decided to watch was about different species and how they maintain the family.  We watched in silence, munchies galore.

Blue Boye profession…  Is what it is.  Society has…  Decided amongst themselves to ostracize him, placing his type into some alleged sub-culture classification, of which.  The IRS doesn’t give a damn about.  Just as long as the classification he puts on those U.S. tax forms is met according to taxable income, and paid.  The woman who was in the home, married to another, didn’t seem to care about what others assumed either.  She was a good hostess and I don’t mean that in a despicable way.  Hey, loved the sexy outfit she sashayed in.  I mean…  What…  If you were in a nice restaurant wouldn’t you enjoy the total ambience too?  So don’t trip because I enjoyed the erotic eye candy.  Even if she was married!

Another person I know, happens to be a female escort.  She is working on her doctorate.  Lives in a high-rise condo.  When she drives, its a Benz.  once she asked me how I felt about her life.  When I responded, “professionally or personal” she appeared somewhat confused.  Quick to “re-load” I told her I really didn’t think about her in either sense.  Oh yeah, she quickly got in her feelings, but then…  So what.  People worry about what others think when the reality is.  Others aren’t paying for your high-rise condo.  Those on the outside won’t cover the expenses for up-keep on a Benz.  The university Chancellor is only concerned about getting the tuition before it’s due, and…  As long as you pay your bills the reality is nobody cares what ‘cha do to get it.  Oh, sometimes, if that Chancellor discovers what ‘cha do, they have been known to compromise one’s position.  My male friend Blue Boye, the female escort have both told me of those who’ve wanted in, as long as…  No body else found out.

Blue Boye is a consummated person.  He treats the women in his world according to what they bring to the table, along with whatever today’s emotions suggest.  I wonder how many of the managers we encountered during our days activities even know how much of what they do professionally was exactly on par to Blue Boye profession.  As for Blue Boye, he told me he managed the various emotional needs of the women within his life.  A life that had some fine psychological benefits as an un-seen attraction.  Lost at this situation with “unseen psychological benefits” a need for clarification was raised.  He enlightened me.

“Husbands, boy friends, boy toys, those involved in alternative relationship, tell me all the time, the DRAMA at home is the real bitch.  Fights about money, arguments about not cleaning up the house to their satisfaction.  Lack of meaningful conversation on a daily basis.  Way out talks about some famous person’s extra marital affairs.  Spending money and not even thinking about where the funds come from, creating another fight about money.  Geeze, help me to know I’m sane!  Get it, psychological benefits.  Added attraction.”

He took me outta the way but, we got to where I saw the clarification sought and…  Smiles were in order

Blue Boye wasn’t sleeping on a thang.  Neither was Issabella the female escort.  Although she asked me about my feelings regarding her choices in life, deep down, I knew she could care less.  We were friends.  She knew I stayed on the edge, luvin’ every minute of it.  Both of ’em knew I’ve kicked ass, took names and challenged those who attempted to question my existence.  They knew, I knew like we all knew.

Back-In-The-Day, on Venice Beach Boardwalk, tee shirts were sold with a saying etched on it.  Eventually that phrase went universal, or as said today; viral.  The phrase was, “Life is a Bitch“.  Even then, for me, life wasn’t a bitch.  Bitches are the fake ass hypocritical wanna bees.  Hiding behind their titles.  Ducking, finding security within their facades, all in an attempt to prove they are the anointed ones.  Surprise…  Those of the anointed are the chosen ones.  Privately leading their personal lives and not giving a damn about who’s trying to isolate.

Blue Boye is one of the chosen, much like Issabella and Stymie Ed.  Even the nieces and nephews who maintained their grades are chosen.  Chosen to be allowed to be all they see themselves being.  Talk the talk while they live and luv.  Doing what ‘cha do and not fallen to the abstract B.S. accepted today as morally correct.  But…  Let me come up for air, sip it, then continue with this flow.

The noted scientist Stephen Hawking made a comment as to the possibility of the existence of superior life outside our solar system.  When I got up on what he said, I stopped and had to think seriously about his words.  He said if there is such a life we’d better leave ’em alone, because…  If that life was anyway like our lives, they will not come in peace!

What is peace in the way of communications between the sexes, which is my forte’?  Don’t answer that, rhetorical.  Peace, goes like this.  Are you eating regularly?  Doing your life and when it goes wrong, feeling like you wanna scream out for resurrection, then…  Finding yourself alone only to look up and see…  The sole one.  A body standing there, totally confident.  That special one whose got your back no matter what?  If…  You managed to answer yes to any of these question, you’ve ascend.  Rose yourself about all the B.S. making up the traditional life forms used to color this piece.  With you, you are of the ones who don’t have to give a shit about some extra-terrestrial types cause they only attack those who perpetrate!

Psssss;  Society highlights some professions while demeaning others.  Those said to be nasty despicable are usually professions using the same systematic principles of survival applied by professions deemed; socially acceptable.  This practice applied is known as “bait and switch”.  A method relied upon by those in power to keep those who don’t know they have the same power, confined to their area of ignorance.  Don’t believe it?   (See separation between Church and State while factoring  in Corporate Execs).  Oh yes, one other thing.  Don’t get it twisted, accepted professions, illegal activities, they all have their devious ones.  “P.I.M.P” another acronym.  From a true GameLord means; “People In Motivating Positions“.