Live, from the Ex-Planet...

Most of my favorite people are dead.

2010-05-23T10:20:00.000-07:00

I wanted to do a lil post for Malcolm X's birthday, but I got ADD honestly, so i forgot. But instead of faking like everybody else did like they really appreciated the man's prowess, I'm gonna just put up my favorite pic of him and the put up one of Pac...I feel like in many ways they are one & the same... two men with reckless mouths & too much knowledge that got themselves killed. Disagree if you want, shit, it really ain't up for discussion. But here you are. I just needed something up here because I haven't written in this thing since Feb & what better way to repop this cherry than with two of my favorite men? lol =]

Soulmate? Or No Fate?

2010-02-15T02:03:00.000-08:00

Greetings from the ex-planet: It's cold here. #burr.

I am LITERALLY on Pluto right now. Like I'm not even trying to be cute and follow the theme of my blog when I say that. Like, really, I am GONE, Kemosabe. But I was just thinkin about something....it aint TOO deep, but it's like a lil poll question I'ma pose to ya'll I guess:

Do you believe soulmates? Or do you say "Fuck fate, I'M in charge of my life"?

Sometimes I like to believe that there is ONE person out there for us all, but, if that's the case, why do some people go their entire lives never finding that person?Or, (since some of you might be smart-asses & say "but what if that person found that mate & did something to lose them?") if in the event the person supposedly "had that person, but LOST them," how can we then turn around and say things like, "well if they aren't in your life anymore, it must be for a purpose"?

Sometimes thoughts like that make me question the little conforting sayings people make up for themselves. Because a lot of the times they make no sense or aren't really comforting at all, like "God called him home".... I'm sorry but that NEVER comforted me. Like sometimes I just wanna say, "NO, God didn't do this, some stupid nigga with a GUN did this.." but since I know they're just trying to be nice & they know not what they say (because most ppl only say things like that because they think it's the norm to do so), I don't spaz. I just nod & smile, nod & smile.

Likewise, this soulmate talk kills me. I just want somebody to be straight & just say, "Oh Esh, shut up abt that true love shit. Reality is, you MAY get somebody before u die, you may not. Chances are you gonna date a couple fuck-ups before you meet that "one", & you might have a baby outta wedlock or die tryin, but keep ya head up anyway" LMFAO! I'm buggin, but you know what I mean. If this is all life is, why doesn't someone just tell me that, & stop sellin me dreams, that way, when shit really gets hard, I can have already developed a tough skin (although I am pretty desensitized to most things by now. It's kinda sad, actually. A lotta times I just show emotion because I know that's what you're SUPPOSED to do...hmmm. Maybe I should speak with someone about that.) lol, *sigh* oh dear, my thoughts...

But anyway, Soul mates, Do you believe in them? Or are you on some "fate who?" type shit? I'm interested in your replies guys! =]

This is Iyesha, reporting from Pluto,
Under & In.

CRAZY!

2009-12-16T03:44:00.002-08:00

[bops head] *sigh* I effin LOVE Kid Cudi. You guys have no idea... I just wanna make talented plutonian/moon babies with him. Lol... One day, man, one day.

Anyway. I'm doin the insomniac thing again... Took a nap around 6pm, woke up at 11pm... been up since then.... this must stop.

But erm, Today's topic is: self-image... I guess...

I was talking to a very dear acquaintance of mine (dig that, a dear ACQUAINTANCE...bit of an oxymoron ain't it?) and we got into the whole ordeal about self-image and how sometimes we conform to the fancies of the opposite (or same, you know I don't judge) gender when forming our self-image. This is a gross summary of our discussion btw; it got way deeper than that, but I'll leave it here for the purpose of relevance.

So I'm thinkin' (and since I think so much [and yet, not enough], right about now he'd be like "oh NO!" LOL).... I'm thinkin' of a question...

Why do we care so much about what others think?

Now I know some of my less self-aware peers are quick to say "Nuh-uh! I can give two shits about what people think!" Which is a lie! An outright lie!

If you pay close attention to yourself as you go about your day, you'll realize that most people conduct themselves as if they were being viewed through two, perhaps three different lenses:

The first (and hopefully the most important) lens is the one through which you view yourself. A lot of people need to fine-tune that sucker (myself included) and once they do, they'll find that life becomes a tad bit easier to understand.

The second, is the lens through which OTHERS view you. I'll get back to this one in a minute.

The third lens (for our more religious folk out there) is the lens through which GAWWWWDDDD!!! (lol you like that? that was my digital impression of that creepy screaming pastor from BET lol...yea i crack myself up) sees you. Oh, yes. I'm talkin about the big man upstairs; the omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient God that sits up on a cloud & knows all about ya, like Santa Claus....lol. Aight, I'm bein silly... but I digress. I honestly don't pay too much attention to this particular lens. Don't judge me, I'm gonna explain...

I don't care too much about the way that some mysterious man in the sky sees me because in my opinion, such an entity does not exist (I know ya'll like, OH NO! SHE'S AN ATHEIST!...lol I'm not, just wait...). I feel that God is in each and every one of us. I do not separate Him from my daily movements. I do not reserve a day to focus on him, and then don my "ain't shit" hat for the other six days of the week... I carry him with me 24/7/365...pshhh, even when I'm fuckin' up. Shit, I figured, if God is with me when I'm wylin, he's a shoe-in to help me plow through whatever mental aftermath shall follow. For this reason, that third lens that I speak of does not exist for me, I only mention it because we do not all view God the same, and some of us need to believe that God is on his FBI, big brother shit in order to behave...or to really feel spiritual. Shit, some of you probably don't believe in God at all. I just didn't wanna leave anyone out. I just think that if the Creator is indeed a Creator, then he gave me my functioning mind to be able to fashion myself in such a manner that I will be comfortable with, one which will allow me to sleep well at night. I believe that perfecting my first lens, that of self-recognition, will appease both myself and God... check me out, gettin all deep and shit lol.

Anyway, as for the second lens.... this one is interesting... because you know, lately I've been wondering about crazy people and how exactly they end up that way...Pardon me while I attempt to present this to you all as a coherent thought... I'm still working on it...

Now, I understand some of the science with mental illness and whatnot. My goal here is not to overgeneralize... I'm just providing a theory that's all... here it is:

I think, that people IN THIS SOCIETY are only considered crazy when they lose sight of their second lens. Think about it... when you forget or when you simply unaware/refuse to acknowledge the fact that other people are watching you, that is THE ONLY time that you will truly be yourself.

...and let's be real... if someone put a camera in my room and taped some of the things I do when I'm alone, people might I'm crazy.

But does the inability/refusal to acknowledge the presence and thoughts of others in respect to you actually make you CRAZY? Or does it make you SO in tune with yourself/your first lens, that you just become TOO REAL for this society, where falsehood is praised, to bear?

Hmmm... it's a question I'm afraid we will never know the answer to... but... I wanna know what you guys think....

Thoughts?

While ya'll mull over that, I'm gonna go to sleep.

this is Esh, reporting from Pluto...

Under & in.

...But Then She Woke Up

2009-12-15T11:29:00.000-08:00

I wrote this a long time ago and put it on Facebook. But I feel like after my last post it was fitting... enjoy.

*It's a short story type thingy. I guess. Definitely not your traditional prose. I wrote it exactly the way it came to my mind: in bits and pieces and incomplete sentences. Anyway, I just felt like writing something because I haven't done it in a bit and I can't seem to finish those two poems I started. But enjoy.*

She had faked her millionth orgasm. It had become so routine for her, that even SHE started believing she came. In her mind she shook her head.

He's still not finished...

She made an attempt to look him in the eyes, but he was in the zone. So, she busied herself and tried to think of something else, ANYTHING else.

Kobe's playing tomorrow.... Shit, I forgot to hand in my homework.... Tacos...

....How did my life end up like this?

She gave looking at him one more go...

Nope...

Why the hell am I even doing this to myself? This man DOES NOT care about me... I know it. I can feel it....

...And the tears started to fall. In a failed attempt to sob silently to herself while the Mastodon continued to plow away, he finally snuck a peek at her.

Damn, crying huh?

...He couldn't help but smirk on the inside. Pause the stroke. Light Kiss to the forehead. Balance on one hand, wipe the tears away with the other, regain balance, breathe. Resume stroke.

She probably never had it like this before....

...If looks could kill, he would have expired mid-thrust.

He probably thinks he's hurting me....

Seven past eternity. He finally collapses. Lustdrunk off his own pheromones, marinading in his own ego, he wipes the sweat from her brow before getting up to go dispose of the used gold pack and to let out the urine.

CRAZY..... Gives his manhood a pound. Lets out a silent 'wooooooo'.

Finally alone, she dries the rest of tears on fluid stained sheets. Attempts to calm her breathing.

I have to stop doing this to myself...

But then he re-enters the room. Not ready to let go of comfort and get down from 'daddy's' lap, she feigns satisfaction.

Petite. Shapely. Body lightly coated in lusty sweat glistens almost devilishly under the red light. As she seductively cat-crawls across the bed, eyes bali-bloodshot-red hide her shame and despair.

I'll get it together tomorrow....

Then, pornstar poised, Roxy ready, takes him into her hands and sings him the sweetest melody. Awake. Round 2.

Everyone talks about who the 'real' Satan is.... but you haven't seen the devil until you've seen dainty acrylic-tipped fingers gracefully attempt to massage the love into the broad shoulders of a relationship that's nonexistent.
You haven't been to hell until you watch yourself play naked wheelbarrow in the mirror with someone who doesn't care about you....
...And you haven't felt pain until you realized that the only barrier between torment and true happiness is one YOU put up.

.... but then she woke up.

Woke up next to her love... safe and satisfied.

She watched him snooze for a few minutes and mused to herself. Smiling at the thought of him. Excited about the possibilities.
The she searched her soul for the same uneasiness that robbed her of a good nap and her life of the happiness it's been missing....

...it wasn't there...& it has yet to appear.

Thank God.

-Esh.

*Don't think to hard. Just take it for what it is. Thanks for reading. Leave comments if you want.*

"These King-sized Sheets..."

2009-12-15T10:40:00.000-08:00

Afternoon loves. Almost 2pm as I type this up. Been up since 3am because I allowed myself to fall asleep for 6 hours for absolutely no reason. smh. Anyway, as you can see, I finally painted the walls, hung up some photos, created a lil atmosphere. Somethin' light though. Just took a template and messed around with it... didn't feel like starting from scratch, takes entirely too long smh.

Anyway, I figured I'd kick ish up a notch by writing about the most blaring issue on my mind right now: love.

Hmm,what can I say? I guess I can say when it comes to matters of the heart, I'm a hot ass mess!

On one hand I hold true to my cancerian mannerisms: I can be a big pile of mush, relishing love and all things love related. But then again, I'm a product of my environment, and let's just say there have been times when I've let what I've been through in the past dictate how I move, which isn't a bad thing, one SHOULD learn from experience. However, in some cases I've acted harshly and selfishly, and some good people have gotten hurt and placed on the backburner in search of things more familiar: the painful shit.

Which brings me to my point...

I named this post "These King-sized Sheets" because I've been listening to Alicia Keys' "The Element of Freedom" (which is in stores NOW btw, GO GET IT!) HEAVY on repeat since it was leaked about a week & a half ago. She has this song on there called "This Bed" that I really like and my favorite line goes: "These king-sized Sheets need more than just a queen in between 'em." I like that line because it explains exactly how I feel right now....

I'm lonely, and I want someone to keep me company at night, but I don't want just ANYONE to lay in my bed with me. So I twiddle my thumbs & wait for my current interest to stop runnin around playin druglord long enough to hold me, but it's not enough! This guy is NO good for me and I know it. And I'm angry at myself for messing up a good situation because now I have feelings deeply invested in a really shitty one...

I guess my questions is:
Why do people run away from good situations, yet find it so easy to get comfortable in a fucked up one?

Thoughts?

While ya'll mull over that, I'm gonna go raid the fridge and think of my next post...

this is Esh, reporting from Pluto....

Under & In.

PeeELyooTEEoh!

2009-12-14T02:24:00.000-08:00

It is almost 5:30 am. Smh. This has been my routine for days now. Sleep late, up all night. And I need to stop it….

Well I said to myself that I wanted to start a blog. Not necessarily to get my ideas out to the world. Lol. Nah. I’m not even vain like that. I’m not on a Rambo mission to begin revolutions or change lives or anything like that. Lol. I just love the idea of a blog. I like the way they look when people put time and effort into them and I just always wished I had the patience to sit and chronicle the happenings of my life. So tonight during one of Twitter’s (@justESHthnx) random philosophical, extra deep, mushy segments, I tweeted some pretty deep ish. Stuff that I was just like, MAN! I need a blog. Lol. So here I am. This is that one boring introductory blog, so please excuse me if I ramble.

I am gonna make this short though. Basically these will be my thoughts, raw and uncut (well I’m lying, the digital world doesn’t need to know all my business) but I’ll be as honest as my common sense allows me to be in cyber space…. If that makes sense. Lol.

Hope ya’ll enjoy, because it isn’t easy getting this news to ya’ll from the ex-planet. Tahaaaaa! (that’s my laugh… you like that onomatopoeia -- shittt you probably like that word too! You don’t watch "Hey Arnold" son?!? Lol)

…under & IN.

-ESH

(oh yea! pardon this WACK ASS generic blogger template. It's late, and I'm not even off effing with photoshop and html code right now... maybe later.)