How Much Is A Life Worth?

batonThis past week has opened up my eyes to what so many people see me as. When you get caught up in being in your bubble you tend to forget that there’s a world out there that will always see you as a nigger. In my 6 years of writing this blog, this may be my first time saying this word.

These past two weeks have opened my eyes to something I was ignorant too. No matter your education, your intelligence level. The way you speak or the way you dress, too certain segments of this population seeing a black face means the same.
The moment I walked into my doctor’s office and told them I had an accident the first question they asked me was, “What lawyer sent you?” Thought that was odd but okay. I go back a week later and tell them I need a refill on my prescription, they ask, “You sure you’re in pain?” Thought that was odd but okay. I tell them my job needs an update and I’m told, “We can make sure you’re off work for months if you don’t want to work. They’ll pay for it.” Now it’s not odd, now there’s no okay. I want my fingers to heal so I can write, I want my shoulder to not feel like it’s in a vice grip every time I sit down or lie down. These implications that I’m a scammer or junkie or don’t want to work are offensive. “But sir, we didn’t ummm…” You didn’t what? Realize that these dumb ass assumptions are either racist or ignorant?

We can tell these boys and men out here to speak better English. To present yourself better, to watch how you talk to people, hold your head down, don’t make them feel uncomfortable. Don’t ask questions, don’t put yourself in a position to be misunderstood and shot. What is it going to take for us to stop asking these questions? To stop going at each other and realize we need each other? Would it be easier if a man like me was shot? A guy with no criminal record and no questionable pictures, a guy that has hundreds of blogs and articles people can quote? Life is life and not everyone’s life comes in a pretty package but they still deserve that life if they haven’t done anything to lose it.

Why I’m Afraid to Bring A Child Into This World; Why I Will Bring A Child Into This World

There was another mass shooting today. According to the news, this wasn’t terrorism or some random crazy guy. It was over a Holiday party. Men walked into a place with innocent people and started killing them because of a party. That’s the world I’m going to bring my children into.

Turkey shot down a Russian fighter jet.

Donald Trump is going to be the Republican Nominee for the President of the United States.

Everytime I look up there’s a new food that causes cancer or some type of ecoli (spell check, it’s 2:00am) scare. All this adds up to one or two things.

We’re either one black kid getting shot by police away from WW3 or we’re one President away from WW3 or all or food is going to kill us and they’ll be a handful of farmers in Utah left standing.

I want a son really bad. I’ve stopped writing about it over the years because I didn’t want to become one of those guys that seemed pressed. But the desire has never went away. The hope that I’d have a little man that looks just like me or like his mom or is at least healthy and happy. But the thought of raising him in such an uncertain world scares the hell out of me.

Even though I know it’s my obligation to raise him, to add some good warmheartedness and substance that our world so desperately needs. Would I be a wreck sending my child to school everyday knowing some fool could come in there and shoot it up. Would I go broke shopping at Whole Foods because I didn’t want to poison by child with McDonalds? Even though I have all those fears, I still feel good about the fact that my faith in God will protect him or her. I won’t and can’t be there 24/7 but to not have children because we live in such a crazy world would be adding to the fear that this crazy world is generating.

Hell on Earth: The Revolution II

Everyone else was sweating, quiet, but sweating. She could see their chest beating up and down, she knew their heart rates were probably through the roof. Some of them were in faded military uniforms, others were in old street clothes, there was no standard look. This was war and war wasn’t pretty. They all looked from the enemy to her, from the enemy to her, waiting on her command.

Hearts beating, palms sweating, she laughed. It was a quiet laugh but it was contagious. They all looked at her like she was crazy before they started to laugh. Her heart didn’t beat fast anymore when it was time to attack. She couldn’t remember the last time her palms sweated.



They took her world. They took her child, her mother, her life. For her killing them was peaceful, it was art derived from pain. Most of them were sleeping, they looked like children, teenagers but that was the enemy’s plan. Who would attack children? Their red eyes gave them away though.

Aliens weren’t little green men or big Godzilla like monsters; the aliens that took out half the population shared their DNA. It turns out there were two earths and theirs was older, more polluted and more vicious. For them this war wasn’t about land or resources it was about power. Attack us before we had the capability to attack them.

“Don’t waste bullets. Don’t fear death! If you get close enough use your claws! Rip their fuc%ing hearts out and make them regret they ever stepped foot here! I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, hungry for revenge and thirsty for their blood! Follow me and reclaim what is ours! Follow me and die a legend or live a REVOLUTIONARY!!!” Putting her guns in the should holster and putting on her claws she looked each of them in the eye and jumped into the enemy camp screaming, hoping more would come out so more would die!

The revolution is now!

Hell on Earth: The Revolution

All she could remember was the noise, the deafening noise. Lying in bed, seriously considering calling in to have a four day weekend she thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest. “Am I dreaming?” Is the question she asked herself when all she saw was the backyard where her bathroom and closet once stood. The smoke, the fire, the screams, it was happening in slow motion.

It wasn’t until there was one scream in particular. One scream that shook her out of her dream state. She’d heard him cry before, heard him whine and play fight with his cousins but she’d never heard him scream like he was screaming now.

Jumping out of bed, taking in her neighbor lying in her backyard with half his head blown off she fought through the smoke and heat and crashing that seemed to be seconds away from falling on her to get to where she heard him screaming!

The front of the house collapsed, pieces of brick and glass everywhere. The harder she scratched and pulled to get to the scream the less fear and pain she felt. Her fingernails cracking, the heat from the fire scorching her thin nightgown.

Feeling hands on her waist pulling her back she turned to fight, seeing her husband bleeding from his head all she could do was scream, “He’s in there! He’s in there! Listen! Listen!” There was a dead look in his eyes, a look she could never recall seeing before, one that chilled her in her tracks even with all the noise and fire around her.

“We have to go Lauren! He’s gone baby! He’s gone!” Turning around, pushing him away! Still scratching! Still clawing! He could hear the rest of the roof creaking, he could hear the explosions happening around him! As the rest of the house collapsed he pulled her onto the front lawn screaming!

That was two years ago, that was the start of hell on earth!

That was the start of the rebellion that she now led!

To Be Continued…



America, Syria, Moral Obligation and the Machine

a flag America, Syria, Moral Obligation and the Machine
The United States has the largest military in the world. We have the most military contractors in the world. Our Navy could go against every country in this world and we would win. Our Air Force could wipe out any foreign military that we want. We spend more money training our marines than the University of Texas spends training a 5 Star QB.

Regardless of what you think our nation was built on war. We won our freedom by fighting the British and after we beat them we went on to murder every Native American that wouldn’t leave their lands and lay down.

As a country we import three times as much as we export. Clothes, technology, food, cars and almost anything you can think of. Why is a country that’s so dependent on other countries and relatively small so feared, so respected? Because every country in this world knows that our military influence can break them.

The only way to justify spending the amount of money we do on our military is by actually using that military. The reasonable part of me wants to believe this is simply about helping a country that’s being oppressed but if that’s the case there’s countries all over the continent of Africa, countries in South America that are experiencing genocide. We’re going to war because we can beat them and show our power.

War is necessary in the world we live in, there will be times when there is no other options. In the vase of Syria this is not one of those times. Our military is a hammer, they are very good at blowing things up and winning the fight. However, when you destroy a nations military and make proud men beggars you create enemies.

We’re still in Iraq and Afghanistan because if we leave them defenseless all hell will break lose. We can’t save everyone. We don’t save African or South American or Ssian nations so why the moral obligation to the Middle East?

Love is War Passion Pleasure Pain and Fear…

Couple holding handsLove is War

Love is war because love is fighting for what you want. Fighting for what you believe will make you happy. Fighting for that woman that will change your life for the better. War isn’t sexy or romantic or sweet. War leaves wounds and scratches and causes nightmares and there’s no graceful defeat if you lose because to lose means to have your heart ripped out. Love is war and love is worth the price of war!

Love is Passion

Love is cold wine and hot sex. Love is arguments that seem some intense and serious but only lead to sex on the couch and pallets on the living room floor. Love is jealousy and insecurity because you don’t think it’s possible for someone to be as passionate about you as you are about them. Love is watching her cry and wanting to absorb that pain so that she never feels it again. Love is passion and passion is violent and sexy and gives us life!

Love is Pleasure

Love is the feeling of her legs wrapped around your legs on a rainy Saturday morning. Love is that sensation you feel before you place yourself inside of her. Love is her skin moist from just getting out of the shower. Love is her heart racing because your tongue is racing. Love is hard nipples and goosebumps. Love is wet lips and wet spots. Love is explicit good morning text and panties in her purse. Love is pleasure and pleasure is addictive.

Love is Pain

Love is not being able to eat when she doesn’t answer your phone calls. Love is a pounding headache when she’s mad at you for not bringing her something to eat because she’s cramping. Love is that moment of emptiness when you’re inches away from her but she doesn’t want you to kiss her. Love is pain because true love affects not just our heart but our physical being.

Love is Fear

Love is wanting her so much that you’re afraid everytime you talk to her will be the last time. Love is seeing her talk to another man, smile at another man, laugh with another man and wanting to destroy him! To make his life a living hell just because he’s getting some of her. Love is her telling you she needs space and you fearing the worst. Love is crying in the dark because you know she doesn’t love you like you love her and that fear is tearing at your essence. Love is being scared that you can’t please her, that can’t give her what she had before you or what she desires. Love is fear and fear makes us work that much harder for the love we crave.

Love is a lot of things but most importantly love is worth all those things because to be single, to be without that feeling of love…. It allows you to appreciate everything that comes with it, all the emotions, all the passions, all the fears and tears.

I love the idea of love because I’ve loved and lost and realize how much better than made me.



Swords, Shields and Honor

“They came in the night! On boats bigger than our villages! There were dozens of them and before we knew what was happening the fields were on fire! And then our huts! We heard the horses scream and fall down! We grabbed our swords and shields but they weren’t there to fight.”

The tears started to fall as I was telling our elders the story. The look on my son’s face, the fear in my wife’s eyes as they threw them in the wagons and rode off. Our horses dead and they were shooting a tiny metal ball out of a weapon I’d never seen before!

“Why did they come if they don’t want war!?” The youngest of the elders stood up and smashed the but of his spear on the ground! His anger mirroring mines but he was the only other.

I composed myself but didn’t wipe away the pain! I wanted them to know my hate and need for vengeance was real!

“They came to take us! To take our women and children! They burned our villages and crops! Killed the horses! Used weapons I never saw before! They took my family… We ran as hard as we could but when we got to their camp on the river there were to many and us to few with no armor! Give me warriors and let me get my family back!”

My heart was beating! Bloodlust was in my fingertips and eyes but they just sat silently.

Why are they just sitting silently?!

“Why will we not fight?!”

“Tell him. Someone tell him, I cannot.”

Another elder sat up in his seat, his sword shining in his lap.

“We did not know they would attack your village… They came almost a year ago and fell upon the southern villages with weapons we can’t beat. They killed all the men and took the women and children as slaves. We… We made a decision to let them have the poorer tribes in exchange for leaving our villages alone and making our enemies their enemies.”

I could not believe the looks of defeat in their eyes. The fear… I spit on the floor and unsheathed my sword! Their guards and soldiers pulled theirs but no one stepped toward me.

“Where is your honor!? Your pride!? You fear their weapons so you give away your own people! I would rather DIE with my sword in my right hand and my shield in left than live like a COWARD!”

One of the elders sons ran from his fathers side with his spear aimed at my heart, before he could bring it down his head was hanging from his neck. Two more soldiers soon followed him to the afterlife! Their blood staining my armor, they died good deaths.

“Is there any other man that wants to die today?!!!” Every soldier in my village stood behind me, weapon in hand, waiting to share in my vengeance!

Their sons, daughters, wives, horses, lives were all gone. Probably sailing on big boats to lands we would never find! Death, an honorable death in battle against a million men was better than living with this pain!

“You make your deals and lie on your backs like whores but we go to WAR!!!”
I turned my back on the leaders I’d sworn to defend and went to seek my vengeance or die trying!