My Solitude

I am a person that truly believes that everything happens for a reason, so let this be a lesson unto me, that whosoever be a burden or cause havoc in my life, I shall not curse them, for they are the ones that I shall thank for making me strong enough to receive my blessing....

...shambles...

I feel like my life is in total and complete shambles...

I feel like I have no one to turn to that will hold me close and tell me that everything is gonna be okay.

I feel like I have no shoulder to break down and cry on

So I just bow my head in shame while the tears race each other down my pale face.

I feel like the one who was supposed to be... never was

And the one that never was... actually is.

I feel like the world was always against me

But I know that I was always against myself

I feel like I cant breathe, my heart is racing, but I cant take in air.

I feel like I'm in this by myself because circumstances make me think that people aren't supposed to care.

They never did, they never do, and they never will...

Unless my body, or somebody is cold and lying still, then they will

I feel like ... I feel... I... ...

I cant even feel any more...

Didn't Almost Not

Cry, Cry, Cry, Cry, Cry...
Its the story of my life.
I'm such an emotional girl
Here it comes again
My chest feels tight....
***just wait***
***okay continue***
I feel neglected
My heart has such a yearning
Like nobody really cares
I want the love I never had
Hold on my eyes are burning
***just wait***
***okay continue***
Secret thoughts behind closed eyes
Memories I'll never forget
Hugs and kisses
Re envisioned
Hold on my face is wet
***I cant wait***
***I wont Continue***
I cant wait for someone to come sweep me of my feet
Take me to a paradise
Because we've painted the world as hell
All the drugs that we sell
Deal, Use, Get high
Yea getting high makes me feel so right
But I'm still on the ground running
From my enemies but mostly from myself
I cant continue to do the things I've done
Expecting to get something greater
Greater Love
Greater Happiness
I haven't even tried...
That's why I cry, cry, cry, cry, cry
I give so much
All my heart and all my love
Treat everyone better than myself
Then wonder why I got the hand I was dealt.
Some one told my I didn't love my self...
Maybe its true...

In His Arms

When I was a child, I had a safe heaven. It was perfect. It was security. It was comfort.

When I was a child, my dad used to beat me... sometimes really bad. I would run upstairs and climb into my grandma's bed and hope that she could protect me, but even at the tender young age of 7, I knew that the only person who could really protect me was God. After I had gotten beat, or when I was really sad, I would go into the spare room in my grandma's house. I called it "The Holy Room." There was a bed, laying sideways against 2 windows. The tall dresser served as the make shift alter. On top there was a fancy china plate with the Virgin Mary painted on it, there was a crucifixion cross, and a white candle was continuously burning. My grandmother also had a small radio that played the christian station (94.7 Family Radio -thanks Kenneth for reminding me-) 24/7/365 (366 in a leap year). This was my safe heaven.

I would lay as close to the window as possible, looking as hard as I could to see at least one star in the bright sky. The flood light next to my window didn't help, but I still tried. After a while, I would say my prayers, just like my grandma taught me (an "Our Father", followed by thanking God for EVERYTHING, then asking for forgiveness for all the wrong things I've done. Then I would ask the lord to bless all the people I knew, I would ask God to fix me and make me a better child, and finally I'd wrap it up with 'In my little bed I lie..."

When my prayers were finally done, I would close my eyes real tight and imagine I was a tiny baby, floating high in the sky, above the clouds, looking down at the stars. I would imagine that God was holding me in his arms, rocking me to sleep, wiping away my tears, and letting me know that everything was going to be okay. If I tried hard enough, I could actually feel myself being rocked back and forth. I felt at peace. I still do it to this day, and it always makes me feel better...

You should try it.

For What Its Worth

Long distance relationships never really work out in the end. I've heard this many times from a lot of people, and have actually went through that same emotional roller coaster a few times myself. It seems that at one time or another in my life I've had to because I travel so much. I constantly ask myself, why am I doing this to myself. Always wondering where he is, why he didn't answer his phone, and how come he's out so late... If I'm stressing this hard and he doesn't appreciate it, work on it, or even put in half the effort that I'm giving, then what is it worth?


"My fingers are numb, my arms are tired, and my heart is weak... Maybe I'm just holding on too tight for all the wrong reasons. Its not like you're helping me up, as long as I'm not actually falling you think its okay because "I got it" but when are you gonna "have" me... Maybe I'm tired of holding on... for all the wrong reasons." - TeLLiey*

ATTN: All Artists, DJ's, Models... Need a Publicist?

Diana Wilson Public Relations is looking for new clientele. We work with artist and inventors who already have a product i.e-book, record, modeling career that needs exposure, or a new invention. Our job will be to get you greater media exposure, be it online through blogs, or writing to editors.... It all depends on what you do. Our research will let us know what direction to go as far as exposure.

I know you all have friends who have friends who have friends who are into one thing or another, but if you (or they) are serious, this could be the first step into the lime light.

You may want to work with us because:

1. You have work or family commitments, you can't devote the time to create and manage a major publicity campaign.

2. You work for yourself, but running your business entails hundreds of other tasks that leave time for little else.

3. You're an author who's on a book tour, or you're busy working on your next book and don't have time to devote to a publicity campaign.

4. You're an author whose contract with your publisher has expired, you can no longer work with their publicist, and you're on your own.

5. You are aware that your publisher is handling many books at the same time and you know it's important to have a publicist unrelated to the publisher working directly with you from the beginning.

6. You have a job such as a consulting practice, and your time is better spent making money on client projects than it is doing your own publicity.

7. You don't have the right kinds of media contacts.

8. You're familiar with the basics of how to get local publicity, but you want to take your campaign to the national level and don't know how.

9. You want publicity in a certain part of the country and you would prefer to work with a professional who has strong media contacts within that region or state.

10. You're trying to get in front of people within a particular industry but don't know the best ways to reach them.

11. Even though you feel comfortable interviewing with the media, you don't like the thought of calling reporters and editors on the phone and asking them to cover your story. (More about this in a minute.)

12. You're doing most of your own publicity yourself. But there's one aspect of it that you don't know how to do or don't want to do, such as setting up an online media room. A publicist can help fill in the gaps by doing small-project work.

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I can answer most of your questions and address any concerns. Feel free to contact me via e-mail at telliey@yahoo.com or AIM - telliey

Spread the word, thanks for reading
Chantel Williamson
Public Relations Assistant



Take The Next Step

Murphy's Place

Thursday night was another venture on the Dallas club scene. We went to Murphy's. Being from Brooklyn, I'm accustomed to a certain type of party, but it wasn't a flop as I had originally thought it would be. I've noticed that in TX most of the clubs are small restaurant/bar type clubs. They're bigger than Universal Resorts, in Brooklyn, NY, which is a small club in East Flatbush knows for 'hood' parties. In TX there is a higher level of class. The girls out here are real girly girls. Although the music wasn't my taste (example: "Walk with a dip", "Ice Cream Paint Job", and "Mr. Hit That Hoe") it was fun.The DJ played a little bit of everything so I got a chance to get my reggae on. He wasn't Funk Master Flex though. All in all it was a good experience. I would recommend this spot for after work hang outs or for someone who just wants to go out and have a nice time with out having to spent 10-15 minutes at a time just trying to get accross the room. Good DJ... expensive drinks.

Feelings

Can you feel the feel that I feel? This feeling has got my head spinning like I'm tipsy. It's a feeling in my stomach that came from my heart and is starting to run through my brain. Its scary yet enticing, this feeling of mine. I should say our feeling because I know that you can feel the feel that I feel. I feel it when I talk to you. Your mood changes to match mine and that feeling sends sensations running down my spine.

Can you feel the feel that I feel? Or am I just crazy feeling this way about you? I've felt the changes and I know you can feel them too. My mind is reeling with the combination of feelings that I feel for you. If only you could touch me. To make the connections to my feelings real. Your touch makes me melt when I feel your lips on my body. That's a feeling I feel only wen I'm sleeping, it has yet to become a reality for you and me.

Can you feel the feel that I feel? Do you desire to make these feelings real?
These are my feelings...

My Plight

I don't know what brought this up... maybe its because lately I've been telling all of my friends that they should pray but I can't even remember the last time I been down on my knees...

Its not that I don't know how to pray. I grew up in a Christian home. My mom taught me about God n Jesus and my grandma taught me all my prayers. I went to a Christian school for 3 years and when I was in TX as a kid with my mom I don't think there was a day out the week we weren't in church. We had Sunday school, morning and evening service, choir rehearsal, praise team practice, bible study, and missionettes...

"So what's the problem?" your thinking... I don't know... :(

This is how it started

Christmas eve (06) we went to church. I was living with my friend Ashley Stewart and her family at the time. First off we were late, but as soon as we got there I was eager to go into the sanctuary. As soon as we sat down I began to cry. I was seriously flooding with tears and I could barely control it. The preacher spoke to me and that day I re-dedicated my life to the Lord. It felt so good...

I met my friends aunt Johnnie... and God knows there are no words to describe her. She began to speak to me and my friend Alegra kept calling. She was a close friend of ours in California was was supposed to be at the house for dinner with her "fiance". When she finally arrived it all started Prayer... crying... telling... speaking, and more prayer and tears. Then Ashley's little sister, Melody (who drs said would be mentally challenged because of her downs syndrome, and she still proves them wrong to this day) began telling a story, at first we didn't understand. She spoke of a tree covered by a white cloud that was growing IN the water and was nurturing white flowers. We asked her to go into detail and then corrected her and told her that a tree can grow near water but not in it, but she insisted. The tree was IN the water. That day we discovered that Alegra had the gift of interpretation. Melody was talking about me...

New years eve... We went to church. Normal church service. That night the ball dropped and we all celebrated with a toast. (Uncle James, Aunt Janice, Aunt Johnnie, Mom Stewart, Ashley, and I) After the toast we began to pray and Uncle James laid his hands on my head and prayed. He told me to speak in tongues because I could. But I was scared because I never had. Yet he was telling me.. No commanding that the tongues fill my mouth and speak, but my body got weak and I fell down. I wasn't unconscious or anything, but my eyes were closed and God was speaking to me. When I got up every one in the room, including Ashley, was speaking in tongues. Uncle James was praying over her so I went and laid my hands on her shoulders as he prayed. Once again his hands were laid on me as they prayed over me and I began to sob uncontrollably. I sat down on the floor and began crying and praying asking God to forgive me for my sexual past. I was so sick of it and the way I had always felt. As aunt Johnnie rubbed my back I began screaming that what ever was in me get out and leave me alone. I screamed and screamed and cried until my throat was raw but I still prayed. Then I began going back and forth between speaking in tongues and English. It scared me so bad because I didn't know what I was saying but I was conscious of how I felt. Then aunt Janice came to me and told me to speak in tongues and I cried but I couldn't will myself to speak. She laid her hands on my belly and mom Stewart laid her hands on my throat. I could feel myself fighting but the words came rushing out of my mouth hot and fast (yes they felt hot). All of this while tears were streaming down my face. After that night, I never felt the same.

When I went to boot camp in Feb. On our 1st few days there one of my ship mated had a seizure while we were eating dinner. Naturally those who were around him including myself tried to help him by laying him on his side but we were yelled out because its a rule in boot camp that under no circumstances are we to touch each other. They cleared out the room and left the guy there. We all thought he was gonna die because it didn't seem like any one was helping him. They took us back to our "ship" and we were all standing at attention in front of our racks like the soldiers we were training to be. Yet we all had tears in our eyes and one girl fell to her knees and began to cry. One by one the ladies in the room dropped to their knees crying. I found myself in the middle of the room telling them to be strong. I began speaking words of encouragement and suddenly I began to pray. Praying faster and faster I started praying in tongues. I was loud... and I felt... different. When I was finished praying I collapsed to the floor. The chief of my division was standing in the door way. Normally we would have gotten in trouble. I don't know if it was due to the circumstances or because of the power of God but the chief acted as if nothing had happened. After that all of the people in my division came to me for prayer. It felt good. They voted me to be the Recruit Chaplain Petty Officer (or the recruit religious petty officer) and I was proud that people could see me that way. It was a unanimous vote and people were supposed to volunteer for the jobs. Either way it made me feel good.

But after boot camp I fell back into my same ways and I guess I was afraid to pray because I thought God was disappointed in me... I tried to go to church a few times since then but I just get so scared to pray and so scared that I might speak in tongues again that all I can do is cry. I know God has a plan for me but I don't think I'm strong enough or ready for that type of power. I don't think I'm good enough. So I just keep running away. I don't want to be another Jonah cuz I'm not tryna get swallowed up by no whale :) but I don't wanna find out how he gonna get me to do his work either. I'm so confused. And living in this ghetto neighborhood is not helping. On one had I'm just a regular hood girl, and on the other I'm a really spiritual lady. I guess I stick to the hood side because I know I can't fail at being a sinner... its sad really... I'm just so confused as to what I'm supposed to do :(

Any comments? Opinions?? Words of advice??? Help me

Open Mic... My First Time

So... I'm in Dallas, TX. Long way from home, but last night I had fun. My cousin and I, along with her best friend and a few co-workers went to a jazz club called TePheJez.
It reminded me of a play I did in High School for a book called 'The Cotillion'. One of the scenes was in a spoken word cafe. Instead of clapping we would snap our approval, and that's exactly what I walked into last night. The featured speaker, also known as "The Voice", is the president of the 'I Have A Dream Foundation', an English major, and have a humorous play on words. Other artists had poems so deep it made you really think about life, love, and God.
Then there was the select few that talked about sex in a way that seemed so natural... so sexy... so soulful... so... so... so something I have never experienced before, and here I was thinking I'd been making good love all this time. I even joked with my cousin saying that we should leave early, because the words they were saying was making me want to have sex with men I didn't even know, that's how deep it was. I felt like with his words alone this man was undressing me, loving me, touching me, and caressing me... only with the syllables that came out of his mouth. I loved it. I loved it so much I was moved to do a poem of my own. I was nervous, since it was my first time ever reciting my poetry to strangers, but they loved me. I think I'm gonna go back next week.

This is what I said last night.

I love you, I love you, I love you
I hear myself say it all the time
But am I really speaking the truth
Or just repeating the same old lie
Pouring out of my mouth
Into the cup that is their heart
The sweet taste of the melodic words
To me it has become an art
So tell me since I lie about what I desire
Will there ever be someone that can truly inspire
My heart to open up
And experience what I imitate
Will love ever let me truly participate
I wonder...

I hate you, I hate you, I swear I do
For all the things you ever put me through
The pain, the lies, the years of my life
That I'll never get back
And suffer for because of their lack
You, YES YOU, and your selfish actions
Have been one of the biggest distractions
In life, that I have yet to get over
And over, and over and over a-fucking-gain
I stress myself out
Over what YOU did to me in the past
I'm trying my best to get over it
But I cant just delete what is a part of me
That same pain that I hate is my very entity
It hurts me...

I want I want, no I need you
To come to me like you usually do
And like how you're doing right now
It feels good to have you enter my mind
Travel through my body
Until you decide the way you want to exit
And release you wonder
Either through my mouth or my finger tips
Its beautiful the way you tome to me
Then are released by me into this world
As an expression, a thought, a quote or a song
These are my words...


Not bad for a first timer

Father's Day

My dad isn't the best of dads... nor is he the worst...

Hes a man... who despite the things he went through in life, raised his kids the best way he knew how., basically having no idea. I, being the oldest of his 4 children suffered through his mistakes as he tried to figure out how to get the whole "parenting" thing right, but I guess in the end he did a pretty good job because I turned out to be a very strong, young woman. I love my dad, and I know he loves all of us, even if he has a dysfunctional way of showing it.

Like every father he has had to face the challenge of raising a young man. The saying goes "like father, like son" (and it is so true in the case of my family) but but my father had a saying all of his own; "do as I say and not as I do", but I guess my brother is another challenge of a 1st for him. He is responsible for shaping and molding a proper young man. With me all he had to worry about was protecting me from getting pregnant, or so he thought...

Protecting his little girls is still a challenge for him, but he takes it in stride. I gave my father a good run for his money when I was growing up. I put him through a lot. He worried, got mad, yelled and all that good stuff, but my sister does not have to worry about all of that. I was the "test" child so to speak. He went through all the drama with me so he knows how to handle it with her. She has taken over the role of "daddy's little girl", and she holds that title dear to her heart.

With the birth of my daughter all the drama, anger, and disgruntled feelings came to a halt. We actually began to build a relationship that consists of more than holiday phone calls (happy birthday... happy fathers day... merry Christmas dad...) I'm going to quote yet another saying. "If I only knew then what I know now". My father has taken that and applied it to his life and is using what he learned in life from me and my siblings to become a wonderful grandfather, and for that I am proud.

I love you dad... Happy Father's Day

After all these years

I'm still in love...

The song keeps playing back in my head and I feel madd corny for catching feelings for a guy I haven't seen in over damn 5 years... I swear its crazy...

I remember when I 1st met him... High School... Freshman year... He was in my class... He was the class clown, and I was the teachers pet. I remember he used to always come sit at my table and as soon as we would get to talking, the teacher would make him move. After class I never really paid him any mind, he didn't hang out with any of the people I knew, and I always had to go straight home after school. I think it was in October of 2002, he gave me a note telling me how much he liked me and that he wanted me to be his girl. I was excited. To me he was the bad boy type, and there was something about him that made me want to get to know him more. (I know I sound really mushy, but its true.) The note that he wrote me was a rhyme/rap/poem what ever you want to call it, I just thought it was so sweet. I wrote him back, telling him that I wanted to be with him too... but then my Grandmother died... I never gave him my note... We didn't see much of each other, except for when we were in class, and I had a whole lot of drama going on in my house. My father was abusive... I felt like I had no one to tell... so I closed myself off from everybody

But we did get together. On May 2nd, 2003 we were officially a couple. I wasn't allowed to talk to boys back then so I had to sneak to use my step mothers cell phone after 9 and have my sister be the look out while I hung my head out of my bedroom window talking to the boy I was slowly falling in love with. And damn did I love that boy... When my father found out I was talking to a boy I would lie at all costs to protect my dear boyfriends identity from my father, and I would take it all. The yelling... cursing... slaps... punches... and an occasional choke or 2. This mutha fukka even bit me one time. I didn't care though, I knew it would hurt today, but tomorrow my boyfriend would be there to make me feel better; even if it was only between classes.

The 1st time I cut school to go to his house I was scared out of my ass. The door we had to leave from was right next to the principles office. I had been caught by a truancy officer once before and I didn't want to get caught again... The whole way there I was scared, I had never traveled around Brooklyn by myself unless it was to school or home, and my JR. High was only about 5 blocks away from my high school. Hell... I still had to get off at the same stop, but nevertheless I trusted my boyfriend and went right along with him. He took me to the 'do or die' Bed-Stuy. He had a beautiful house. Better than any house I ever lived in. They had real furniture, a dining room table, beautiful kitchen and a big ass dog named Buster (and a bird... I never liked that bird).

We spent a whole year almost, sneaking out of school to be with each other. I was truly in love with this boy. He was just such a sweet heart. One day, not a holiday or my birthday or anything, just one random day, I opened my locker and a dozen roses fell out. I was walking on air for the entire day. He even came to my music class and performed a song that he had wrote just for me in front of everyone. He did little things to make my day, but the thing that I loved the most were his words. He was and still is a very gifted writer.

But every good story can not be complete with out a villain. The entire time we were together all of my friends would tell me that he was no good. There were lots of rumors floating around that he was cheating on me. But that's all they were to me... rumors. I had a saying that I stuck by "I trust you until you give me a reason to doubt you." I told everyone that had something to say about him cheating that I didn't want to hear it unless they had proof... You should really be careful what you ask for...

I got proof one day... an AOL convo between him and some girl that was supposed to be my friend... When I got the print out in my hand news traveled fast that I was pissed. The girl came to me with all her friends behind her and we fought. That's the first time I fought over a guy... and the last. I was hurt... devastated... but most of all I felt like a fool. I thought I was smart because I never paid attention to the he say/she say, but I guess sometimes people are really just looking out for you.

I moved to California that summer... I tried to keep in touch with him, but my mom was strict (no phone, no computer) so that didn't really work out. But still to this day, when I look at his picture... I smile. I cant count how many times I saw someone in the street that looked like him and my heart would start racing... butterflies in my stomach and all... Then when I realized it was him I'd be so disappointed... but such is life I guess
You never forget your first true love...
And they'll always have that special place in your heart...

**this is for someone who was once my "Bookie Baby"**