Thoughts Aloud

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Every day is a new day but it seems as though I regress to the past.

Past thoughts about friends who I don’t speak to anymore, events that occurred or how things transpired after I made a decision about something and now wondering what if I had taken a different route.

I’m not sure why I’ve been thinking this way quite often more than usual.

I had a friend. I’ll call her S. for the purposes of anonymity. I thought about the time we took a road trip which started off in Portland, Oregon and end in Vegas. What supposed to be a two week trip ended up a week and a half because of her behavior, I couldn’t stay with her much longer.

S. was (and probably still is) a prescription addict. I knew something was wrong when she picked me up at the airport and I was greeted with by a skeletal friend, a far cry from the healthy person I used to know.

At the time she was rooming with a friend of her, who seemed like a really nice guy and even more generous to let her stay at his apartment and have her friend (me) stay there for a few days with my dog Lady.

The trip started off great, even though we didn’t stick to the original plan which was to drive straight to California. Without getting into the long shenanigans of the trip, while we were on the road, I discovered things about her which were completely unpleasant. And like me, it was hard to question or even suggest there may have been a problem.

I remember there was nights where we made stops at hotels where I would check on her to see if she was breathing. Needless to say, I did cut my trip short, and flew from Vegas back to New York.

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Me and my dog Lady in Portland, Oregon. She’s such a great companion. 

When I got back, I received an email from her “best friend” who inquired as to my early departure suspecting something was wrong. I disclosed things that happened on our trip I had witness I thought were quite disturbing and expressed my concerns since it seemed she respected only some of her friends who addressed her shadiness but with me that was a different story and I’m not quite sure why that is. I mean I’ve known the girl since early 1997.

After email exchanges and her long time friends addressing her addiction, somehow I was the one to blame. I was called a liar countless times on an email blast she sent to all her friends, never taking under consideration this wasn’t a bashing but more of I want you to live a long life. How many people have taken Valiums mixed with other drugs and alcohol, fell asleep and never woke up?

For some odd reason I was wrong. I was wrong in confronting the fact she had a drug problem. And the friendship ended.

Part of me feels indifferent, the other part of me cares, I guess for lack of a better word.

I think I still care than being indifferent about this situation. I has been seven years since this happened and while I benefited from the trip and gained exposure to the West part of the states, I’m still a bit sad things ended the way they did.

I did try to reach out to her a few years back as her email account was hacked and wanted to let her know. This began the whole argument again, this time, defending the one girl who started the inquiry in the first place. Of course they stayed friends. LOL.

Why am I saying all of this…I guess to write and to see and to say out loud as I have said countless times, there are people who you can know for a lifetime, it doesn’t mean they were meant to be your friend for a lifetime.

People change and evolve. I understand that, but, it’s almost like a relationship that ended without having a real and amicable ending. I will admit I’m bothered by the whole thing but I can’t deal with ignorant people who believe they are right and the rest of the world is wrong. I will always have a special place in my heart for her and pray for her well being.

I think it’s just sad the way shit happens and it sucks when sometimes you think of it and it still bothers you.

Until then,

Marabelle Blue~

 

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What’s Real and What’s Not…

The week of November 16, minding my business, getting off the train to head home, I noticed someone from the corner of my eye as I walked down the stairs and they walking beside me. Now the first thought is, “who the fuck is this person”, then he speaks…

“boy does that chicken smell good.”

There’s a restaurant up the street from the train station and I will say this, if the chicken is more than a day old, and they’re cooking it, it smells pretty bad.

The conversation leads to me saying the food didn’t smell good and I can make better chicken than they can. I thought that was the end, until he walked with me to my destination.

Okay, aggressive maybe?

Approaching the ninety nine cents store, I tell him, “well I have to go in here” and he asked me for my number.

I asked him to give me his and I promised I would call him back.

“What’s your name?”, he asked.

“My name is Marabelle.”

Well I wasn’t going to tell him my birth name. LOL.

Needless to say, I did give him my number. My business number. And then the calls started maybe a two days later. I didn’t feel we had much in common. But after a few text exchanges and a few calls in between, he surprised me last Saturday meeting me at the very same area we first started talking and took to the diner where we spent about four more maybe a bit more hours talking about everything.

Then my view changed.

Wow, this guy is smart and we do have a lot in common.

But…(you know there’s always that damn ‘but’), due to privacy issues, I changed my phone number on my ‘whatsapp’ to my business number, not realizing anyone who had the app and my business number will pop up a notification like, “hey your friend just joined whatsapp” – the same number I gave to this guy, who looks at my profile pic, watermarked, “Property of Kink~E Magazine”.

I have struggled for many years with men who thought that me owning a sex magazine made me available for sex, or that I was some kind of freak fucking different guys every night. Or how can I be such a prude and own a sex magazine.

Umm well, people are dirty and disgusting and I don’t open my legs to anyone unless they are fucking worth it. And oh, my fetish life isn’t practiced with some fly by night asshole that doesn’t know what he’s doing.

The men I meet get it very twisted and very confused as to who I am, what I do, what is the purpose of the magazine and why I do it.

The mission statement on www.kinkemagazine.com is very clear and anyone who reads it knows exactly what my magazine is about, what my writers do and what we talk about. Most importantly, why it’s so important to educated people living or exploring alternative lifestyles.

Well now upon knowing this info he had on hand, I told him what I do, I’m a writer, I own a magazine and I have different writer who discuss different aspects of adult entertainment and alternative lifestyle and he seemed cool with it.

After our endless hours of talking, it was time for me to go home and get rest and figuring I would hear from him the next day, I did not.

Okay what the fuck is going on here. You like someone (remember we are not 25, I don’t have time for stupid mind games), you’re not going to waste time or say, “well, duh, gee, I’ll contact her three days from now. By then I would have lost interest.

Bothered by the fact he didn’t make much of an effort, but texting here and there, I said something and it seemed to wake up the senses and led to another all night conversation.

Now my head space is, “yeah I’m feeling this guy, we can hang out get to know each other.”

Today, not so much. Inconsistent. Not making much of an effort BUT definitely made an effort in exposing exactly what he wanted to do me, desires of feasting on certain parts of my body…(use your imagination, ya’ll know what I’m talking about).

Yeah…no, I wasn’t feeling it.

I go out with you ONE time and one week later you’re talking about eating me out. It’s one thing to flirt, yet another when you’re just horn dog asking for sex when I barely even know the guy.

No thank you.

Does he not think I’m already getting emails like that from someone who’s been chasing me since 2000. And OH what about the guy I connect with periodically. While he’s busy playing mind games, someone else (someone I know) texting me at the same time, asking when I’m coming over.

A friend with benefit understanding only works with me for ONE person. I don’t need an extra person for that especially if they are telling me how REAL they are, when in essence are just full of shit.

I have been “around the block” enough to know all the stories guys play just to get a girl into bed, instead of just being forthright in saying, “I’m not looking for anything serious right now, however, I would like a partner I can be intimate with and have fun.”

Last time I checked, there’s nothing wrong with that level of honesty, but that’s just me. Some women may find the whole statement repulsive and that’s okay too.

Look I’m not here to judge, far from it. But when you come in with lies about me being in your heart and saying all of these romantic things just to get me in bed, is where I lose all respect for a person who’s flat out lying.

After addressing said issue, not only does he block me on twitter (why I don’t know he’s not worth reading any tweets he puts out), he blocks my number on his phone (after last Saturday when he tells me I gave him my “heartline” after I gave him my personal cell number).

If these are the actions of a person who claims they are telling the truth, guess what…you’re not.

Liars will not defend their actions once they’ve been found out. If anything they run the other way to ensure their integrity is not found out by others so they can pull the same game on someone else who will buy the lie.

While no one knows who I’m talking about, the last thing I would do it tag him on tweets like an immature child and accuse him of being a liar. Sure I will say certain things, but I won’t tag a name on to it.

He could have taken a different approach had he been telling the TRUTH, maybe by picking up the phone and calling and defending himself.

Being truthful is painful, whether you’re on the receiving end of it or not, hearing it for yourself when the words are departing from your lips can be painful.

After tonight, I was hurt and disappointed because I really wanted him to be for real in everything he was saying, but in the back of my mind, something said, there’s something not right.

I have learned to follow my intuition instead of following my heart.

Sad when you can’t follow your heart.

I text a friend of mine and told her what barely began has pretty much ended. In this phone conversation, a lot was revealed to me saying the words out loud.

Even in my own personal truth, as the words left my lips, my tears streamed down my face, because this really wasn’t about this guy, it is about something in the past, yet to be closed and the actions I am taking, in my own personal journey to resolve it.

You will all get a chance to share in that, I promise you.

In the meantime, my tears lie on the disappointment more than the person himself. It sucks when a person doesn’t tell you the truth, it sucks even more when they feel they can get over on you and not care about the feelings you’re investing through their web of lies.

(Addition) I wanted to say this, there’s always a reason why everyone goes through certain paths in their lives. I believe there’s a reason why I am having these experiences. While these experiences may not be so pleasant I know at the end of this tunnel will flourish something beautiful.

The journey continues….because whoever my “one” is, will completely and totally love me for who I am and not what they think I’m supposed to be.

Until then.

Loves and Hugs,

MB~

Viewing my World…A Little Bit Of Me…..

IMG_0798So most times, if not all the time, I use my WordPress to write my sarcastic thoughts about the Bachelor/Bachelorette like most people will that blog about this show.

But at times, I give a little of me almost as a therapeutic way of getting in touch with my own feelings as I continue to write my autobiography, which I have to say has been extremely difficult and for specific reasons, specifically on something I shared with my neighbor earlier today.

Last night as my phone chimes off from my news apps of the lunatic who shot up people at a bible class in church in South Carolina, I opt out of sharing breaking news I normally would. I needed to disconnect.

It was no surprise that everyone started blowing up social media timelines of their opinions on this person, as stated above, lunatic.

My neighbor and I were talking earlier as Friday is usually a day that we walk our dogs longer than usual and discuss life.  I needed the time to get away and unwind due to my current living situation which for some, I’ve made no secret of my disdain when it comes to my sister and her husband.

My sister has been living with me for the last two years due to a irresponsible husband that cannot keep a roof over her head. He is married who likes to play the field (allegedly).

He is not welcomed in my home.

He is the main reason why my family has much disconnect.

Why, is the question we give this piece of shit so much power.

Why my sister loves this man is the question that no one can answer.

He is well loathed (yes well loathed) in my family.

No matter what anyone says, at the end of the day, he’s a piece of shit in the present, to the past and eternity. Period. The End.

With that being said, while my neighbor and I were talking, I shared with her a story about my father. When I was a young girl, my father went out and worked every day to keep a roof over out head and have food on the table. I never, ever, saw a day of not having to eat, having clothes on my back and shoes on my feet. My father always ensured our well being.

While things weren’t all roses growing up with my father, I know he always had our best interests, even if at times we didn’t feel that way.

Being a grown woman, I can definitely understand why my father made the choices he made for us and you know back in the day, upbringing was different than they are these days. Our technology has changed the way in how we communicate and how we interact with one another.

So back when I was little. My father owned his own business. From my understanding, there was internal theft going on with one of his family members that caused him to lose his business which led to my father having to search out for a job. While typing the cover letter, every time he made a mistake he had to throw away the paper and start all over again which only infuriated him.

Thinking back on how he typed from throwing out letter after letter, to avoid sending a letter with a typeo, made me really emotional sharing this story. It was painful to see my father having to humble himself looking for a job after losing a business. Of course as a child you cannot equate the words with the feelings but today, I have a better understanding of what I was feeling.

There’s a saying uses in 12 step meetings, “by any means necessary” – which means that no matter what is going on in our lives, we must stay clean in order to ensure our integrity of our clean time. Without having a clear mind, you cannot make clear choices.

While my father was not using drugs, the concept is the same.

Not once did we feel a stress that our home was threaten. I never saw a housing court growing up.

Looking at my sister’s life and her poor choice of a husband, I’ve sarcastically asked, “we did grow up in the same household?”

I know she’s not the only one who’s in a place where she sees the good in someone who’s just a low down dirty piece of shit that contributes nothing to his wife and his children. He’s has not made one single effort to take responsibility to say, “this is my family and I will find us a place to live so we can be together as one unit.” He doesn’t care. He only cares about himself. Someone who clearly didn’t look up the meaning of marriage.

The word marriage is another form of emancipation. “Who gives this girl away….” (hint hint)

My father never gave away my sister for marriage. She did it in secret. Running to the court house to do a quick wedding and guess what, we were all supposed to be happy.

I have learned when you do things in secret, there’s a guilty part of you that knows it’s wrong. Why get any advice from friends and family that will tell you the truth when you can listen to a man who will lie to you and tell you everything you want to hear and give you a fantasy that will never come true.

Back in the nineties they called it champagne taste with beer pockets.

After more than twenty years, and about seven roofs over their heads and now mine, where does this all go? After two years of her living rent free (oh she pays the cable bill) when does it all end where I get my life back and my living situation back to normalcy?

I would have never thought my sister would do the same thing to me what she has done to every other homeowner where she’s rented an apartment and they’re good with paying their rent for about three months, when all of the sudden, they just decide, “well if we’re late, so what or we don’t feel like paying rent because we don’t like you…”

Responsibility is a big word. Sometimes it’s too of a big word for some people like my sister’s husband who enjoys having his cake and eating it too. Not once has her children with him said anything to me like, “thank you for keeping a roof over our head.” His older son has already taken the lead like his father. The apple does not fall too far from this tree.

I mean we did live in the same household….right?

For me, my father signified a pillar of strength and consistency. I have always told my friends when advising them, consistency will tell you a lot about another person. In this case, my sister’s husband has been completely consistent about being an irresponsible father and husband for the last twenty years.

Yes, consistency can tell you a lot about a person.

BTW the image is a tee shirt I bought when I was at Cannon Beach in Oregon.

Oh! On a side note, I went to my ex’s place to write (yes the one I broke up with in 2000 and thus created a magazine called Kink~E Magazine after discovering my voice) 😉 – He has a new girlfriend and you know that you’ve grown up when you can see two people being affectionate with each other and be happy for a person that you were not happy with. Sometimes it takes a while for people to figure that out. It’s called co-dependency (that’s a whole other topic for a whole other blog).

Until then.

Loves and Hugs,

MB~

Step 2 of the 12 Steps “Came to believe…restored to sanity…” NYC Fire Selfie Post

I’ve been up most of the night with one of my dogs who had her first (and last) liter of yorkies. All five are doing great!

With that good news being said, I have to talk about something that seem to be going viral for ALL the wrong reasons.

fake selfie nyc fire

While I don’t dispute the fact that it’s rather tasteless to take pictures in front of a devastating incident that should not have occurred, what I’m flabbergasted is how people are not only spreading around this photo BUT believing that they were taking a selfie while the fire was consuming the building.

Now I live in NYC. I was sitting in front of my computer working when my #Headline app sent me a notification about a fire in the East Village. Not too long after that I tuned to the news and was astonished at the blaze and how the water was not only putting out the fire but taking down the building as it was happening. My thoughts ran as I wondered who was trapped in there, people’s belongings and memories now part of a burning dust. I cannot even imagine nor do I want to. It’s very painful.

That being said, here comes this picture of the selfie where now people have the opportunity to express their hate towards a group of people they don’t even know. Let alone passing hate, but check out the picture clearly. The fire was put out by 6PM there were no flames. This picture clearly taken in the early eve is still showing flames that were not present at that time. And it there were flames they certainly weren’t shooting out at this time.

Second, why was this picture posted? No one begs that question. Lets take the focus off Con Edison for a bit and let’s focus on our hate and anger at people we will probably never see in this lifetime for I”m sure they are most likely foreigners on their journey to NYC probably thinking lets take a picture in front of an ambulance and nothing more of it.

Con Edison people were at the 121 Second Avenue, apparently doing an inspection on a contractors work in the basement. No sooner did they leave the building, the owner and contractor were at the building because someone said it smelled like gas and then the gas explosion occurred.

Where does Con Edison stand in all of this? Why didn’t they smell gas? I mean wouldn’t the smell be present at the time they were inspecting the building. NO one is asking these questions. Instead lets focus on this selfie.

Here’s my post on FB:

“Everyone is sharing this ‪#‎selfie‬ ‪#‎nyc‬ ‪#‎fire‬ post. It’s not real. If anyone watching the news knows the fire was put out at daylight. Smh wow people will spread lies faster than good things.”

Once I put up the picture calling it a fake, one of my friends responds (a real friend, someone I know) talking about how the lights of the fire trucks among other forms of EMS on the scene created a light that may have looked like a fire. To follow someone chimes in on my comment saying “good things, people are missing, etc. etc.”

This reminds me of when you apply your own emotions to what you’re reading.

Example:

“how are you”
“oh I’m good, just busy here studying for a test”
“oh sorry I bothered you sheesh”
“oh you’re not bothering me, just studying, I really need to pass this test”
“Well let me delete your number and never bother you again”

OH wait this was a similar conversation I had with the SAME person that accused me of saying that good things happened in this fire.

Ummmm do I know you? More importantly, do I want to know you? That answer would be a quick no.

Yes I have been at fault for putting up things that weren’t real but lesson learned not to be so quick to share unless it’s something comical.

Second step, coming to believe that something greater than ourselves COULD restore us to sanity.

It wasn’t until maybe my third year of sobriety, someone had shared and pointed out the word “could”.

Could being the operative word, as in a choice. People make choices (people of sound mind) to be restored to sanity. Which simply means, repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results.

The internet is filled with tons of shit, fake sites with fake news that people just hop on the wagon to believe. “Oh it’s on the internet, it’s real.”

Granted there are truths on the internet. This is the way most people do research accompanied with the library. If anyone is doing an important paper for school and studying for their masters degree, how stupid would it be if they solely relied on the internet.

Here’s another thing that applies to the second step, (note to self) stop arguing with mindless assholes that spend all day posting these fake news site and believing that’s it real.

To them, it is real. Perhaps it’s a need they have internally to satisfy some form of level of insanity they have in their lives in order for them to feel sane.

I don’t know what goes on in anyone’s brain and quite honestly I really don’t care. I’ve got my own brain and ideas to work with I think that’s enough LOL. On top of that I can’t even concern myself with people who might “hate” me, too much to incur in my wonderful life. I have bigger fish to fry.

The insane part is arguing with said type of people who are overly sensitive over postings and then feel the need to argue with those that may find something false or something that’s humorous that’s not humorous in their eyes. Just the other day a similar argument occurred when a good author friend of mine, his wife, posted a funny on his wall. While I totally got the joke, this sparked an argument with a woman who was offended, because of self image.

The picture wasn’t about self image it was about a feeling that the pictured depicted in the person’s face.

Over her head and way over the top. Instead of something being funny, it became an unnecessary argument.

Look I don’t proclaim to have all the answer, shit, if that were the case it would be brain overload. However, I do have some form of sense of self, of humor and not to take anything to literal when it comes to online bullshit. Do I see things I don’t agree with or like, sure. But does that give me the right to attack the person that put it up. I can simply said, I don’t agree or better yet say nothing. Moving on. #ByeGirl #ByeFelicia #GirlBye

The trolls have their own outlet in creating fictitious stories to appease their own insanity. That doesn’t mean we need to participate an help them.

But again, second step….”A power greater than ourselves COULD restore us to sanity.”

The power greater than yourself is your choice too.

My prayers go out to those who have been affected by the fire in the East Village. Lets not forget them either while spreading that stupid selfie picture.

Carry on my friends.

Until then.

MB~