Sorry for the delay

So I've neglected my blog like a crackheads baby (ok, sorry bad analogy, cause I'm no crackhead, and child neglect is a terrible thing) but I'm back on it like a bike with fo' pedals (that's four pedals). Though I know that my dedication to this blog will probably wane more than lil, (get it - lil wayne) I've still decided to see how furiously I can pound away at the keyboard as to give the impression I'm truly committed to internet writing. I'd almost rather post old poems that I've written from years past and pretend like they were new pieces (lol and smh at the same time). I think I use parenthesis too much. -Break-
I never thought the day would come where other people would be interested in another persons rants and raves, but that day is here. I guess, if I were getting paid major money (or any type of money for that matter) to rant and rave over different subjects I'd do it to. I mean, how hard is it really, to sit down and simply type out words about your feelings, opinions and thoughts? This whole internet thing is the true Gift and the Curse. More on that in another blog, soon to be forthcoming.
Aight, enough for this one, just wanted to say I'm back on this blogging for as long as I am.

Color Black

So I was thinking of quite a few things this morning as I typically do. It started in the bathroom as I was preparing myself for work (cleanliness is next to Godliness). Let's ignore the fact that I still need a hair cut because that's irrelevant to this mornings thoughts. The thought that actually struck me as oddest of all and therefore stood out the most was the thought of the color black. I was looking at a cologne bottle "Angel Men" by Thierry M. (I've gotten mixed reviews on the scent btw, but that's another post) and it was black in color. My mind from there evolved thoughts of black not really being a color but rather being the near or total absence of light. I then thought to myself, that if black is the near/total absence of color then everything is black when there is no light. I mean the blue cologne in another bottle I own, would not appear blue without the light. There was a bath toy of my daughter's which was orange in color, but that too would appear black. My mind then took me to the fact that I'm blessed to be able to have sight, one, but two, that I'm able to distinguish colors. Sorry that I take so many small things for granted.
Just thought I'd share this with you this morning.

"Visual Realization"

Has this ever happened to you. Have you ever looked at someone, failing to see them, but rather seeing your impression of what you think they look like? I was thinking about this issue of what I'll call "visual realization" (don't know if that's any clinical psychology term because I just made it up) as I sat in my cubicle at work the other day. Let me try to explain this "awakening" that has happened to me on more than one occasion.

In my life I've looked at people close to me (i.e. parents, siblings, ex-girlfriends and so on) but never truly realized what they looked like until I chose to see them. Let me break it down with an example. I'll use my Pops as the primary example in this because he's one of those people I'm closest to. I've looked at my Father/Dad/Pop's face for as many years as I've been on this Earth, but it was only in recent years that I actually saw him (visually realized him) for the first time. I actually studied his dark brown face, and found on it the years of hard work and worries past, residing in the wrinkles on his forehead. I discovered many of the troubles and joys that he has witnessed over the years of his life, in the graying of his eyes. On his cheeks I saw the remnants of smiles gone, the trails of tears run, and the triumphs of love felt. This man is my Father, but I'd never studied him like this before. I'd never realized what he looked like. He was always my Dad, the man with a mole on his nose, and eyes tinted red. When I finally visually realized who he was I told him "Dad, I've never actually realized how you look." I mean sure there had been the numerous comparisons of where I get my own facial features from, but I'd never taken the time to actually see the man I owe my gratitude to, for helping create me.

He's not the only one that I've had this visual realization of, it's happened to me with regards to a few women that I've loved. In some cases after the "awakening" of the visual, I saw that this woman whom I had loved and lusted over and thought was the most beautiful woman in the world, was in reality - only pretty. More often than not their facial proportions fell into place differently, once my eyes were devoid of the cataract of love. These women were no longer as gorgeous as I had thought them to once be, no, they were in fact no longer goddesses, but rather mere mortals. That's not to take anything away from them however, because they are still beautiful Queens in their own right, but for me the visual realization I experienced allowed me to see them differently. I'd almost say that it allowed me to see them honestly.

Now I over-stand that this may be a foreign occurrence to some of you and perhaps I'm not as sane as others think, but maybe there are those of you that this "visual realization" has occurred to? If so, I'd love to hear about it.