Because women can be penetrated, they’re raped. Females are only seen as sex objects by low-minded individuals. A woman’s dignity is her virtue. When you force her to have sex with you, you take that virtue away. What happens is that it occurs as a shock: the woman who was in control of herself, now got that control violently taken away from her and her uncompromised status derogatorily decided upon.

All in the name of sex. Getting laid feels so good that guys go out of their way to get it. The perv on a mission. Whatever it takes to get some booty. How can you have sex with a girl without her permission? You think she’s weak ’cause she can’t hit back? Because every guy is averagely stronger. Do women have to learn self-defense now? If I had a daughter, I’d have her learn it. I don’t know martial arts but she’d be able to kick my butt.

We live in savage times now in that every 40 seconds, a woman in America gets raped. Just ask the Feds (1). For a woman to get raped, it’s like a house of cards collapsing, only that it’s with real bricks of a skyscraper. All the thousands of tonnes crashing down like the World Trade Center on you instead of on the ground. In that moment, the woman loses her mind. She gets a whole part of her psyche viciously ripped out with the intensity of a hundred furious after burners. Am I beginning to make sense? To the rape victim, I’m sure I am.

To write this is difficult, but to omit it is even worse. How can we not talk about this when so many are affected? An increasing number of young women get raped during their tertiary education (2). At a time they’re supposed to be finding themselves as adults. Now instead of being healthy ones, they become psychologically damaged adults, dependent on the support of others to successfully get out of their hell on Earth. This costs the American taxpayer over a hundred billion Dollars every year (3). What an amount to pay for in these austerity-rife times. Isn’t America reputed to be the greatest country in the world? I thought they’re the world’s most powerful nation. What primitivity indeed plagues such a leader in this supposedly modern 21st century.

Rapists ought to be given life imprisonment. It’s only fair for in turn having destroyed a woman’s psyche for life. The perpetrators ought to suffer for the rest of their lives, too. Sex awareness should be introduced in and run from primary school. Children ought to be taught that a female must never be raped. When it’s repeated all the way to university, you have less rapists, bent on ruining women’s lives. There’s nothing manly about rape. If a guy can’t get a woman to have sex, with his charisma, he’s got issues with his (inferior) masculinity.

When women are raped, they lose all sense of intimacy of a relationship. A simple hug can be terrifying over not knowing where it’s going to lead, even with the best of intentions. Rape victims have problems trusting men because it’s men who predominantly rape them. It takes years of counselling to get rape victims to a socially normal status again. Rape conditions teenage boys the wrong thing: that they can’t get sex the normal way, they can get it violently. Rape teaches teenage girls to stay away from sex because it’s bad. This is not true, but in innately protecting themselves, they look down upon it anyway. What do we have to do to abolish rape?

First of all, we have to have a women supporting police force & judiciary system. The majority of rape incidents go unreported to the authorities. Rape is one of the mot under-reported crimes in America (4). We need a police force that encourages victims to speak out and is kept safe from retribution. A justice system that stands with rape victims is needed. Tougher penalties for offenders have to be imposed. When men get the picture that rape i equal to a death sentence, they’ll stop more. Another requirement is the healthcare system. Too few women get the medical attention they need, after experiencing rape (5).

People who rape have no reason to. There’s never a good reason to rape. Rapists are degenerates & low lives who stoop to the level of twisted monster out of hell. You want to know what hell is? Go ask a woman who’s been raped. It’s a living nightmare that doesn’t stop, no matter how much you try to forget it. They say to get over pain, you have to accept it. Well that’s pretty hard when you’re dealing with rape. How do you accept it? All that grunting in delight and tormenting thrusts of the criminal. You have to go through that scene over and over again, just to get over it.

I sympathize with rape victims. I’m a man but I’m ashamed that men rape. It’s one of the realities I’m not happy about. This article is dedicated to all female who ever had the great misfortune of being raped. I can’t help much but at least I care. And that to the isolated rape victims in despair means something. The world isn’t all that bad: there are still some good people out there. So don’t lose hope. As hopeless as your situation seems. God watches us all and nobody gets away from him. And over time, wounds do heal as well.

Rape torments the soul. It puts the victim at risk of sexually transmitted diseases. Having been raped means living a life where you’re constantly crying inside, to one degree or another. Rape is barbaric. It classifies the rapist as the lowest of lows. Sex in itself is an experience. Rape takes that experience away. Nothing good can ever come from rape. There is no happy ending. The scene of the incident repeats itself in the mind forever. The worst that can happen is pregnancy by rape. To always be reminded of the rapist when looking at his conceived child is a horrible ordeal. The babies though are part of the mother too, so some women keep them. Others commit abortion. In a case like this, I can’t give my objection.

Rape results in 32000 pregnancies yearly (6). A child is meant to be conceived in love and not terror. A woman should never know to lose power over her own body by rape. It makes her feel violated to the extreme. She feels helpless and that reality tears her apart because she can’t fight it and it consumes her mercilessly. This blog is generally dedicated to female victims of gender inequality, the largest group suffering from the crime. Every raped woman still has hope, though. Time strengthens them and re-calibrates their vision. May raped girls and women see only blessings, for they truly deserve it.

(1) A World Without Rape
(2) United States Department of Justice study
(3) A World Without Rape
(4) Rape & Sexual Assault, Dean G. Kilpatrick (Ph.D.)
(5) Rape & Sexual Assault, Dean G. Kilpatrick (Ph.D.)
(6) Washington Post, 13th June 2013

Suggested reading:
Wikipedia – Rape‎
Rape Trauma Services

Let’s Get Paid

November 29, 2013

Empower Network & Pure Leverage are great, but this will knock your socks off. Sign up & go into business with me. The benefits are that you work with an extraordinarily hard-working blogger, namely me. I’ve been doing this for a couple of years. I get hits from all around the world. Over 400 articles speak for themselves. Want to learn how to do the same? Holler at me. Click over and join the network that puts performance and simplicity into online business.

Get paid. Enjoy!


A Day At Francesca

October 30, 2013

Picture yourself. The work week is over. Gone are the over 80 hours of work. Your home, your castle takes care of your every need now. The SUV and the sedan are parked in the 2-car garage. The neighbour’s son is outside mowing the lawn. Upstairs, the kids are playing Twister on the floor in the game room, while the Rugrats are on TV in the background.
You just spent an hour in the bath, listening to Pachelbel Canon In D on repeat on the iPod stereo. Downstairs, the extended family is in the grande living room, enjoying coffee with home baked triple choc muffins. It’s in the morning. The interior is basked in sunshine. You can’t help but to feel up. Your parents are in the kitchen, preparing stone baked pizza for the kids. The family’s yellow Labrador is being washed in the backyard by your niece.
Your wife is reading Cosmopolitan at the dinner table of the dinning room beside the kitchen. Your brother is in your home office, checking his emails. The home’s got full WiFi connectivity so your sister uses it to order from Netflix on your smartphone. The door bell rings. The paper boy delivers you today’s newspaper with a smile. The week has been rough. You’ve given it your all but you’re beginning to realize what it’s worth for.
New homes in Palm City are the staple of such scenes. They’re two-story family homes for the enriched family experience. Whether it’s Delano, Francesca, Hampton or Flora, what Palm City offers is the intimacy of homely living. Many yearn it, but few gain it. Creekside in itself is already exclusive because there are only 18 units available.
After picturing yourself like this, you can understand why these homes are dreams fulfilled: they offer reassurance!

‘Francesca’ at Palm City

In Sub-Saharan Africa, jobs are scarce. Those who have it, clutch onto it and those who don’t, suffer daily to get it. It’s a man’s world out here and getting by as a man is hard enough. What is it like then for females?
Near absolute gender inequality ensures the fewest are employed. Often the work that are available to women, are underpaid and of low quality. This doesn’t just create a glass ceiling, but an entire floor between male and female workers.

The reality facing youths is that getting prepared for a career is daunting task. There aren’t enough places open for undergraduates at university, as there are far more high school leavers who apply. A significant amount of unemployment is already created in this demographic. Often, the average 3 or 4 year period of studying for a degree is extended by at least half the study time, due to strikes of higher education lecturers who battle government yearly over insufficient salaries. The students become older but rarely take on life and/or transferable skills in the forced abstention. When they do graduate, the fact is that employers don’t seek fresh graduates but workers who have experience in one job or another. Many graduates move back in their parents’ home as a result and simply watch as life passes them by. They become restless and take things into their own hands: they either resort to crime or prostitute themselves softly, by courting people with disposable income.

Sugar daddies are older men who date younger women strictly for sexual benefits. They don’t care about their sex partners, they only pamper them enough to get laid, regularly. The young women who give it up are in their prime youth, the phase in their lives where they can be the most productive. Succumbing to the way things are though, they swallow their pride and accept a form of sexual enslavement.

It’s general Black African culture to be conservative about things regarding sex and public affection. It’s normal in Africa to see married couples not holding hands. Because nothing is said about it, a lot is assumed about matters relating to love and sex. Ignorance is widespread in both educated and uneducated people concerning sex. Sex education isn’t implemented in high school curriculum so teenagers learn about sex the hard way: trying it out for themselves without any guidance or insight. HIV and sex-related diseases are thus rampantly passed on between sex partners, who enjoy ‘trying out’ new partners regularly. There exist many people who prefer having raw sex, without the use of a condom. They say it feels better and it does, but it also makes them completely vulnerable to sex diseases. Since they have the money, they have their way with their money-desperate lovers. All types of diseases are thereby passed on without the receiver realizing it. By the time the symptoms show, it’s already too late and permanent damage usually follows.

The most unfortunate aspect of the nightmare is that jobless young women often intend to get pregnant from their sugar daddies, to get the easiest form of self-sufficiency: being a wife! Therefore, they willingly throw themselves in harm’s way, just to finally make it out of the family nest and be part of the rest of the world. It’s common however to see young women abandoned on their own, while being pregnant. Sugar daddies often leave once it gets sticky. They refuse to accept the babies as their own and move on to other women, eager to buy into their crap. Loads of women have been mistreated this way. It’s made an informal rule in Nigerian society, for example, to have any couple that has a pregnancy to marry. Not observing this rule concludes in a violent backlash from the young mother’s family.

Denying babies isn’t a phenomenon specific to developing countries as it is prevalent in developed countries as well. Lack of enlightenment produces a myriad of problems young women go through to no fault of their own. They can’t really be blamed for wanting to become pregnant to get ahead, in the face of dire poverty and stark desperation. What needs to be done is governments and community leaders/institutions such as schools and universities need to implement sex education and HIV/AIDS awareness in their curriculum to foster more people who are conscious of their sexual health and risks facing it. Exploiting a female because you want sex is pretty low. You can do so much better with your time like doing what you love and then making a vocation of it. Women aren’t sex objects. They’re to be gratified as infinitely more. Leaving a woman in pain of being used by another man is not fulfilling your civic duties as a man or as a people. Young women need all the help they can get. It’s a rough world out there and many girls get used unscrupulously. Give a female a hand and show her there’s still hope in the world. You may be the beginning of her long deserved recovery.

Recommended further reading: Wikipedia – Teen Pregnancy

It’s become common today for employers of labour to give work to female illegal immigrants. The migrant work industry accounts for many types of employment, female migrant workers take. From cleaning toilets and menial factory work to babysitting and housekeeping. Women are natural home carers who unite people. That characteristic has in this day and age been misused of its virtue by unscrupulous criminals who thrive on cheap and free labour.

When women become migrant workers, they often do it in foreign, far away countries where there’s little support for them, an estranged culture to them and a menacing culture shock. A lot of these workers come from developing countries where there’s no governmental support for the poor and abject poverty is among the worst in the whole world. Their families consist of many children and often include relatives. With the male heads of the homes being too burdened by the job to feed all, due to their own working poverty, the wives are left with no choice but to take on work themselves. Many developing countries lack mass employment, especially for the working class, the poor and youths. Therefore emigrating arises as the only viable option for the utterly desperate mothers.

Industrialized countries that have high numbers of female illegal immigrants are the U.S.A., Germany, France, Britain and Italy. As all illegal immigrants do, the women stay under the radar and keep a low profile. They work around the clock, regularly sleep for 6 hours or less and are paid 50% or less of their actual productivity output. They’re illegally taxed at exorbitant rates by their supervisors and have no choice but to take what’s given, due to their illegal immigration status and desperation. Without a social life, their reality is dire. Socializing, taking weekends off or going on holidays are forbidden. To make things easier for themselves, working and living together is commonly practiced. That means that as illegal workers, they rely on each other for support. This is instinctive human nature. Another issue is their diet. Being able to cook well, their draconian work schedule however prompts them to cook few times during the week for themselves or each other and instead stretch out small rations of the food across all days of the week. When they fall ill, they have no medical insurance to cover them. It’s left to sort itself out.

When female illegal migrant workers do get paid, they send at least 60% of it back to their families. Being illegal means they have no valid identity and travel documents. Thus using e-wires like Western Union or Moneygram are out of the question. The money is sent through middle men back home. These people take a commission and further weigh down on the already troubled plight of the poor souls. Apart from all the problems they go through, they lastly have to deal with homesickness and the longing to see and be with their kids and families again. The overall goal is met at the high cost of the improved welfare of the families at the expense of the mothers and wives.

Typically, voters in industrialized countries are racial towards and complain against illegal immigrants but don’t talk when they benefit from the good of the latter working in sweat shops to produce cheap clothing, produce and services. That’s the reality in this world and we’re all complicit in the dastardly crime because turning a blind eye to it, involuntarily endorses the multi-billion Dollar illegal immigration industry to continue. Female illegal migrant workers are carers and providers of the highest order. They have my heart and support!

Recommended further reading:

- CNN: “Illegal Immigrant Women Face Risks, Study Says”
Fort Morgan Times: “7 Facts About Illegal Immigrants In The United States”
Princeton University study: “Gendered Vulnerabilities, Discrimination & Abuse Among Women Migrants”
Global Migration Group: “Working To Prevent And Address Violence Against Women Migrant Workers”
Dare.Uva.Nl: “Illegal Immigration: How Gender Makes A Difference”
OECD Observer: “Where Do Illegal Migrants Work?”
ILO: “Women & Men Migrant Workers: Moving Towards Equal Rights & Opportunities”
IOM.INT: “International Migration & Human Rights” “5 Reasons To Grant Amnesty To Illegal Immigrants” “Illegal Immigration To The United States”

In South Africa, a 13 year old teenager is forced to drop out of school, to wed a senior citizen of 50 years. She’s bright and gifted and always performs top of her class in school. Her dream of becoming a successful neuro-surgeon has now been annihilated, leaving her no choice but to obey her father’s demand and marry the old age suitor. Still being a virgin, she has a crush on a boy in her class, whom she regularly talks to. The boy will never know about it and she will never get to experience what true love in a relationship feels like. In an arranged marriage, back in the village her parents come from, both the 50 year old man and the secretly-traumatized girl, are wed in traditional rituals of the local region.

That night, the man wastes no time in having his way with the girl younger than his youngest child. Her father already received a handsome sum of money in exchange for his daughter. He’s not even fussed about having any grand children, he’s just happy to have the money. 85% of it, he spends on himself, purchasing designer clothes, buying a car and eating at restaurants. The remaining 15% he gives hesitantly to his wife for domestic supplies.

Back in the girl’s new home, her clothes are ripped off her young body and her legs are raised up and spread wide. The old man, without protection, inserts his 9.5 inch erection into the girl’s vagina and penetrates in a powerful thrust into her. She screams out loud, breaking into tears while the hymen inside her vagina obliterates and heavy bleeding erupts from her genitalia. The girl cries, begging him to stop, but the senior doesn’t care and pumps ferociously into her, grunting and groaning with excitement to his sexual delight. The teenager feels as if she is tortured and prays out to God to do something but nothing happens and the 110kg heavy, hairy and sweaty old man with foul body odor pounds mercilessly into the girl’s vagina, getting more turned the more she screams. After 15 minutes, he ejaculates in her then rolls off her and exhales in satisfaction. The girl, now reduced to a raped, traumatized victim, doesn’t find the strength in her anymore to scream or protest. She just cries to herself, wishing this nightmare to go away.

It’s 8:45 pm and the man gets up and goes into the kitchen to prepare himself a meal. 1 hour later, he finishes his meal and sits on the sofa in front of the TV. He calls the girl out of the bedroom, who hasn’t snapped out of her shock and commands her to kneel in front of him. She unwillingly obeys. He opens his zipper and pulls his semi-hardened penis out. ‘Put it in your mouth and don’t stop sucking until there’s nothing to swallow!’, he grunts at her. Tears stream from her eyes again and she slowly grips his organ in one hand and performs fellatio on it: something she has never done before! He shouts, ‘Suck me harder, you bitch!’, then smacks her on the side of her head. She begins to moan in grief not knowing what is happening to her, asking herself why nobody is there for her. Angrily, he holds the back of her head and pushes it down his erection by force, while at the same time thrusting his crotch into her mouth. This, he repeats for a period of 7 minutes the secretes his semen into her mouth, not letting go of the back of her head, making sure she swallows every drop of him.

When he is done, he tells her to go shower and brush her teeth, then go to the bedroom and lie naked on the bed, waiting for his return, and pick up from where they left. She goes to the bathroom, looks in the mirror, cries, then stops as she looks at the shaving knife. Momentarily, she looks at herself in the mirror then picks up the shaving knife. She slits her left wrist vertically along the veins and bleeds out – to death. Her last thoughts were, ‘Nobody loves me. I’ve been abandoned, so I’m going to God forever!’

Rape me again.
I will never win.
I’m the act of committed sin
Because you rape me again.

My feelings you shred.
From the top of my head.
I might as well be dead
Because my feelings you shred.

My heart writhes in pain.
My innocence has been slain.
I want to slit my vein
Because my heart writhes in pain.

I have nightmares every night.
There is no end in sight.
I’ve lost the will to fight
Because I have nightmares every night.

No one ever helps,
Whether I scream or yelp.
It’s unlike anything I ever felt
Because no one ever helps.

The horror goes on.
He’s the lawn mower, I’m the lawn.
He cuts until my blood is drawn
Because the horror goes on.

My life does not matter
Between good and bad, I feel the latter.
I’m unable to converse in any chatter
Because my life does not matter.

This abomination I can’t take no more.
I’ve been set up to lose ’cause I never score.
He fucks me ’til I’m sore
And this abomination I can’t take no more.

I need to ask God why.
To me he will not lie.
Out of this misery I cannot fly
So I decide to end my life and die.

You were cruel, world!


November 2, 2012

I look at you, you look at me.

In each other’s sight but partially see.

Two different people in a cloud of thoughts

That individually found us & together us brought.


To the picture I could front, but up front you’re intense.

Can’t avoid to confront, you under no pretense.

Gotta look into your eyes, and yeah they got me.

You weed out the lies, but your look doesn’t taunt me.


Dark on my skin, dark deep within.

Light Angel Soul, wrapped around in sin.

You’re aware my eyes are covered with a sharp look

But you recognize their intent, is to reveal me like a book.


All 5 senses are heightened.

Heart rates up but we’re not frightened.

To clarify the situation, we’re not fighting.

We’re just perceiving, now the darkness is lighting.


I look at you, you look at me.

We’re in front of each other, of all places to be!

So now I’m here & you’re there.

At each other we both look & glare.


I don’t even get aggressive when you stare.

If you were someone else, I’d feel like ripping his hair.

I wouldn’t be starin’ at him so I’d think it wouldn’t be fair

But I wanna be the subject of your visuals, anytime, anywhere.


Electrifying, the sense of touch.

To all our body receptors, the sensation is too much.

We hold our hands up: chacha with our fingertips.

Delicate feeling – so sublime, it’s a trip!


One, two. One, two. Exhilaration.

Look, feel. Look, feel. Familiarization.

Short breaths. Closing gap. Unifying separation.

Compulsive fluster, more than our hearts can muster. Trepidation.


I’m exposing myself, I’m emotionally naked.

Never put myself out there so much. Feels like I can’t take it,

But the rawness itself of my nature, is so told.

You’ve thus been given the strength now to let nature unfold.


Your hand on my shoulder. You look back into my eyes.

I put my hand on your waist – it’s no surprise.

Tender caressing, oblivious of time.

I’ve become yours, and you are mine.


Your other hand’s on my face, stroking my beard.

I glide my other hand down your waist. We’re not feeling weird.

Like a rehearsed play, we got it locked down and are on point.

Is it really us, or is the temperature rising in this joint?


I blink at your lips.

You put my hands on your hips.

What follows is obvious, but this -

Is like the fulfillment of another wish.


The room is silent but we’re not hush.

In different ways we’re communicating in a rush.

Like a champagne bottle, we’re about to pop.

Yet neither of us wants to make this experience stop.


Once again let it flow. The emotions take course.

Attracting towards each other, we’re under its full force.

We rub onto each other’s noses: Eskimo!

We giggle & laugh on petals of roses. The best ‘We’ show.


You stroke the back of my neck.

Arms locked behind your waist? Check.

The moment is hopeful like dawn & romantic like sunset.

Don’t know whether to move in or wait it out’s the best bet.


Our eyes dance the Tango now.

You like my look and your look’s Wow!

My cheesy smile lights across my face.

You stare at me for a moment, like lost in space.


Two predators. Built for the kill.

Easing like spectators – calm and chill.

Take a moment of gratitude to celebrate our will.

The Law of Belief mentored us in the formation of this skill.


You blink at my lips, I lose control.

In a tight embrace, warmly each other we hold.

From each other we’ve perceived so many incredible moments, and not one did we miss.

The end of this magical chapter, begins with a kiss.






October 23, 2012


Look into your eyes. They’re so deep.

It’s no surprise, that I can’t speak.

You got that look, ’cause you notice I’m starin’.

You enthrall me like a book. Over else, I’m not carin’.


I can’t believe, this moment we are here.

What a reprieve, but I still feel fear.

Scared not to mess it up, but I’ve practiced a million times.

My mind’s blank from this stuff, though my intuition says you’re mine.


Keep it sweet & simple, but don’t overdo it.

Maintain eye-contact, so what I say to you will prove it.

Butterflies in my tummy, heart skippin’ every other beat.

Calmness is goin’ away from me. You’re eye candy, such a delicious treat.


A billion thoughts rioting, each trying to make it through.

Strugglin’ through a blaze like firemen. I’ve simply fallen for you.

You’re looking at my soul, observing what it reveals.

Partly squinting my eyes so, my insecurities they will conceal.


It’s a miracle it’s us here.

Like a spiritual atmosphere.

Electro-chemical connection.

The best mode stemming from dual perception.


Eager to make conversation. Daydreamin’s taken my mind for a walk.

Nervous about that odd silence, maybe we can let our eyes talk.

No need for pressure, you’re probably chill yourself.

Enjoying the moment for what it is, will give all I need in help.


I’m here, you there.

We used to be separated: land, sea & air.

You nudge a finger to mine, on our table at the open-air cafe.

I reciprocate the little act so sublime, I’m all out of words to say.


No need to rush now, I just play it cool.

You hold my hand that I reach out: the conclusion of our rendez-vous.








If you haven’t bought Leona Lewis’ Echo, you should because it’s amazing.

Not Stopping

October 23, 2012

Another week. No results. If it’s happening, I’m not seeing.

Another feat. Go results! Keep on fastening, to me the soul I miss so much!


Can’t figure what to do, though got a couple ideas.

Determined to keep it true, and conquer my fears.

Here I am, and I won’t move until I found you.

Yeah, I make mistakes along the way, but in my psyche, around me I wound you.


This is real, no bluff. Though I dunno what to say.

This is how I feel, is it enough? Can’t quit now & let you walk away.

All I know how to do is fight. Maybe I’m not a very good fighter, but damn it, I won’t quit.

All I know is this feels right. In me, it creates a spark like a lighter. Now this goal I’ll get.


Nah, I won’t fear. Why should I? Fear is scared of me.

Doesn’t want there to be an us here. No lie. So should I act bummy?

Nah! Not in this life. It won’t exist.

Locked on you, my vision’s sharp like a knife and this mission I won’t dismiss.


But here I am, lonely warrior. Abandoned in the battle field or alone?

Feel like it’s damned. Is it a phoney saviour, this quest that wields anguish in different tones?

It’s part of the game. The part which I refuse to acknowledge: patience.

And like most, I hate it. Strain! Why salvage by waiting for something so good for my conscience?


Yet, I complain anyway. Yeah, I’m conflicted – a sun cancer, lunar scorpio.

Gulped it up, the knowledge when I found it, now I know it’s satanism.

So God’s pissed off, to humans it’s an unfair advantage. This is the or part of the one-way ticket to Hell.

Shruggin’ God’s gonna blow my lid off, never thought the Devil would use me as point of vantage. Fuck it, I did it! Who gives a fuck if I couldn’t tell?


But this isn’t about me, it’s about you. Until I find you, I won’t rest without you.

Don’t even know you. I’ve never put myself out there so much for someone in the way like for you I do.

And I don’t stop. I look at your picture & it’s a billion degrees re-heated, my desire to realize my belief.

Where I would usually break down, I persist – through all the laughing at me, insults & beef


Who are you? Where can I find you? You’re a model & can have any guy at any moment.

All I did 3 years ago, was flik through the papers & ever since you own me. Mild-strong torment.

Me, who used to be scared of commitment, is now making plans.

All of a sudden hot girls want my attention. I’m refusing them like they got mans.


FUCK! This is so not me. But then I go do something else, and come back here quickly.

Self-made prison. To myself I made a bunch of promises, my soul now doesn’t feel like, to break. Iffy!

I induce different trances to get me through the periods. Hence, I last.

Common neuro-operational methodologies, to create imaginary situations to coop with shock. Go crazy, fast!


Maybe, but I also know, you I don’t wanna be without.

There could be a million other women I could have out there. I’m happy with you & that’s what it’s about.

You could have so many personality traits I cannot stand, that drive me crazy.

Other candidates could never tick those boxes, and to choose them would still be hazy.


I’ve come far enough to figure out what I want in life, and what I don’t ever wanna put up with anymore.

When I look at your face, in your eyes, I see a connection. Won’t say more because it’s private.

This place, across Earth, you’re my prize: the reality of my perception. If you’re evolution, I’m the primate.

What may not seem like much, I cling on to, and for nothing in the world, ever violate.


Just maybe, everything is going according to plan,

and law of belief is like, ‘I told you I got it. Take it easy, man!’

Maybe this act is one of desperation and not belief. My demon may ruin the progress.

I’m so riddled in between mental paths & decisions, I feel I need to do more, when such may actually be less.


But God watches over us all, even over the ones who don’t give him their faith.

I’ve learned that no matter how much you screw up, to turn back to God is never too late.

I’m not trying to convert your faith, or change your beliefs. None of that.

I’ve also learned to accept a person is the norm if you wanna have a relationship not a fluke swing of the bat


And the baseball is soaring, high right up in the sky.

Everyone in the 100,000 seat stadium is looking up, while you, the player, just jogs by.

It might fly out the stadium, and you’ll score a home run,

but once your partner figures out your manipulations – your relationship is done!


And that’s what I’ve resolved to take upon myself, as judgmental & pedantic as I am.

I’ve rarely done big changes for myself. Maybe through doing it for other people is how I get them done. Damn!

I won’t fall. I won’t falter. I will not renege. This tide will not hold me under siege.

In it, I won’t drown. I will swim to float on the surface. Over the water, I will continue to breathe.


This is it. There’s no turning back. I could swear right now, but won’t. Fuck it, I’ll do it anyway!

If it conveys the message in the way I want to bring it, than cussing you will read today.

No threats, just assertions. Don’t care if I have to oppose in obstacle what feels like the Great Wall of China.

It may be the only construction visible from space, but it’s human made, and I’m a human!


So no ocean can separate me from you. The Atlantic’s a pond & the Pacific to me, is like a beach,

‘Cause no water, land, or height can deter from me, what I give to you in reach.

No insecurities, no second thoughts. Everything like it’s originally planned,

‘Cause whatever I go through, will be worth to hold your hand.


True story.

I can get with you a glory.

For me, it’s mandatory.

To you, it may be illusionary.


Dunno. Time will tell. But I’m over here.

And I know you’re out there.

With your beautiful, curly, afro hair.

I take your image with me in my mind, everywhere!


Good things come to those who wait. Maybe.

I struggle to get what I want the most. May we

Make first contact & at least be book of face connected? Hint, hint.

Until that bold move happens, this is what I’ll do all along. Whether I don’t lose or can’t win.


What your life is like, may scare me.

You may already be hooked up, be getting together with someone or, even though I love ‘em, have a baby.

Yeah, the possibilities of IFs are quite confusing. No lie.

I’d rather have something to believe in, in this cold, superficial world – until I die.


Hey, if I can tap into spirituality once against God’s wish, I can do it again.

What’s a fuck up, when you can fuck up some more, my friend?

The 1st time was an accident, this time it’s knowing offence.

Mabe the law of belief is what certainly makes me repel from Heaven in the distance.


By doing this, I’ve committed another sin. To brag about your fortunes to others.

We are to be humble. Then God reveals our success in public, turning haters to lovers.

If I held my mouth shut, didn’t express what my spirit agitating to create, it would make all of the difference.

Trusting in God, knowing at his time, to me he will unravel in person the amazing gift you are, in full magnificence.


Nonetheless, here I am, and I do what I believe is right.

If I’m wrong to pursue a girl I can’t explain why I want, I’ll happily accept good night.

One life to live, and I’m trying to keep it true.

All I hope is you believe me, like when I look in your eyes & believe you.








October 14, 2012

When you go through the motions, the ups and downs, the string of rejections right after each other, you only have to focus on one thing: to get something out of the situation nonetheless. It can be anything, even if it is miles apart from the initial goal, leave with it anyway. It doesn’t make you a loser, it teaches you to never leave out of a situation empty-handed. It teaches you to always gain, no matter what. It may be hard to swallow at first, but trust me, it gets better with time. And as you continue, you notice the confidence in you rising with every new win. Confidence is powerful, in that it always makes you feel like you can do it. Regardless of what the objective is, it makes you say, ‘If I made it before, I’ll make it again!’ And that’s only because all along you’ve been teaching yourself to never leave a situation empty-handed, by always making a gain. A victory is a victory. There’s no big win or a small one. If you race a car in a championship and you only passed your closest competitor by half a micro-second, then it’s a clear and undisputed win. And the second in place knows it as well. That’s why it hurts so bad to have just narrowly missed a success, because you know if you were at number one, you would have won.

This is basic crisis management. It is a fundamental skill of managers in service sector organizations. If they can navigate the group out of messed up economies & political instability, they survive – and the manager usually gets a big, fat raise in the millions. Why? Because crisis management is a highly prized capability to have, in any business. Life however is our business, and we’re each top managers of our lives. Being able to navigate through the murky, confusing and often hostile maze of life in the world, this skill enables us to withstand b s as it comes. Look at it this way: if you can’t make a gain of your original goal, make a draw, at the very worst, but you won’t settle for a loss. And it’s really that easy. Give a try today, with whatever plan you have. Make it happen. Resolve to yourself within, that you will not take defeat as an option, and you will have to get something valuable of the occasion.

Go get ‘em!


Disclaimer: This article is for motivational purposes. I do not accept any liabilities that may arise on your part, for acting on it. And I include this disclaimer because a blogger who doesn’t take legalities seriously, is only a conviction waiting to happen.