Author: contradictionof99

Being a contradiction was a struggle from early youth, then I realized it was a bonus not a minus to my character. I enjoy gaining new life experiences all thanks to being a contradiction. I'm a high school senior who is also homeschooled, and I'm striving to be a lawyer, young entrepreneur and family business, lady. I have many goals and I want to encourage as many people of all ages and demographics to start early with their dreams. Even if you're uncertain about where you'll end up in life.

Without Him

I love him like I’ve never, ever loved somebody. Warmest embrace I’ve ever lived to know. I’m not easily moved, nor emotionally inclined.

Still, sometimes we fight.

But never in synch, it’s funny how we click with a hint of disagreement. I call him and he refuses to enter my presence. Leaving me filled with feelings of momentary rejection. Him telling me he can’t interupt me at my job, I don’t need to see him that bad.

Lulling me and telling me to just wait. “Yaselynn be strong, Girl its hasn’t even been five maybe six hours since we parted ways.”

Yet I throw a fit.

Either I ingnore him and he’s wondering why. Then it flips and I start crying and begging for his return. Because as I’ve said he’s got the sweetest embrace; that I’ve had the privilage to swaddle up to at night.

I love him. No one else can compare or tale his place.

My mother got knocked out, My father he lost the race too.

I love him, I could sing his name all day. It’s the best toon.

He’s cool and we all know I’m cute so togther we’re fly.

But I can’t lie, theres times I want to choke him and watch him die.

Ending in a hot persute, beacuse I would die of heartache and grief. All before we could decide on a picture for his obituary.

I love this man so deep.

Now back to the part about when we fight.

When we go at it, its because I ignored his calls the night before. He leaves me tons of messages and missed (Ignored calls). And at that moment I swear he’s pathetic. Thinking, “Bruh leave me alone, I swear I can go a few days without contact.”

Conclusion, I’m a bit foolish.

To tell the honest to goodness truth, the longest I’ve gone is quite sad. I’ve ignored his calls, texts, and pop up, its a surprise visit at my job. “Why you didn’t answer me?”

Mmm, not even a full 24 hours. Because, without him, I just get all sad. When I sprint for my annual emancipation streak.

I crash and go through all five stages of grief.

1.Denial

2.Anger

3.Bargaining

4. Depression

5.Acceptance

I love this man. He doesn’t even have to kiss me to make me feel this way. Just his presence is a reassurance of our bond. I love him deep, deep, so deep. It comes from a different part of me.

Soon, its really soon.

I’ll love him fully and embrace him every day. Even on the days, I want to forget he exists.

My eyes look sunken in and all my coworkers whisper and try to be nice. To tell me I look tired. I try to muster a smile and say its because I’ve been thinking of him. Trying to remember why my book, tv show, TEDx video, stretching and even bathing was more important than him.

I love him and I thank God this man is faithful to me. Even though sometimes he ignores me, but that’s usually in response to me pissing him off five maybe even six times before. He knows how much I need him. I love him and he’s my good night sleep.

I love him.

Sincerely,

Dear sleep. 🙂

An Amaranthine Love

A loud thunderstorm and a soft translucent rain.

Comparable to good loving.

A deep warm hug.

A tender kiss

A delicious meal.

Soft rain stirs my soul deeply into ustulation.

Washing away my continuous growth of nemesism; from past and present days.

I feel like rain is a sign from God that we need to mindfully redintegrate our souls.

In one sentence the rain dirls my heart, mind, and soul.

I wonder if anyone else feels this way about the rain.

Please tell me you do?

That you experience theses ineffable feelings when the sky cries.

Either 1,2, 3, or 4 moods bewitch me.

A deep euphoric sleep.
Rapturous energy serges; fixing all melancholy in my eyes before the thunderstorm. Reminding me that my time is short and to be happy I have breath in my lungs. No matter my frustrations the rain renews my joy. It signals an unspoken promise that’s etched across my heart. ( Have joy in the midst of this worlds sorrow!)
Equanimity; a yearning to stop all things and meditate.

Seek out calmness. Composure, of breath and watch the rain fall down my windows as I drive. Upon my skin, starting with the palms of my hands. Praying to be cleansed, as I reach out and over my porch.

4. A deep mourning. I cry for No other reason than to let out emotions sometimes. Can’t pinpoint it to anger or frustration. The rain just calls me to cry and both sing sometimes. I don’t know if I’m crying for lost souls or for my soon to come frustration once the rain stops. But I can say it’s from the heart, slow and one by one. As if the result of each and every thought I hold dear.

Hopefully, it’s not just me, although me and rain we go way back.

We will always share our amaranthine Love.

Even in death, I’ll welcome it to my corpse.

Fall on my grave top, seep and penetrate my tomb.

Oh, how I love rain.

And he loves me too.

Diligently and sweet…

Through heartache and grief…

Rain sweeps me off of my feet.

Mortgaged Time

Featured

No time. why do we feel like we don’t have the time to advocate for things and people that we believe are important?

Primed to mortgage our time on superficial occupations.

We live out our days on this earth going to school religiously to get our ideal job. Then we date frantically to find our harmonious spouse. And then we squabble vehemently to provide for our perfect family.

There is never enough time for everything.

With careers, schooling, and families, plus our necessary leisure time to rejuvenate. There is never enough time to do the things we know are important but are convinced has no benefit other than emotional gratification.

Warning made up the following scenario:

Everyday Janet drives to work at her local DMV center. In her routine day, she realizes that customers are complaining about how the new law requires them to have the best car insurance financially possible. They have to submit a portfolio of their income and expenses. Proving that they’re spending the most they can afford. All in hopes of decreasing the number of underinsured drivers being sued during car accident claim disputes.

Janet can relate with the clients that this is invasive, and she complains to clients daily. Janet also talks about the new requirement with her coworkers. Although Janet is aware of the impeachments of American citizens rights. She has the thought of not only complaining but to jump into action; she tells herself she hasn’t the time to look into the validity of her feelings. Nor does she believe her protesting will be pervasive in changing the new requirement.

No longer complaining but acting.

“Small steps equal huge Journies”

You do not have to abandon your job, family and leisure time to be an advocate against world problems. Somehow we have contrived in our minds and applied these thoughts to our schedule that it takes so much time and long spurts of effort to succeed.

Janet only needs to commit thirty minutes a day on her lunch break to look into how to go about changing laws as a citizen of Little Rock.
Make a list of what she thinks is required to change the new law.
What constitutes “illegal law practices”?
How have people in the past changed laws that were voted into everyday play?

The more she knows and looks into answering her questions, the less she will feel her desired end result is impossible for her to accomplish.

Praise and Envy to the Devoted Protesters/Advocates.

Deep within us, we can acknowledge the praiseworthiness of people who will advocate and not only complain about problems in life. Secret Envy of individuals who dedicate their lives to “The Cause”. Regardless of societies pressure’s; telling them to put their picket signs down and join the local job force.

Mainstream Media has Victimized Our Minds Into Thinking of only Extremities.

Either you went to school and you work the “nine to five” plus occasional overtime. Or you are a whimsical emotionally driven human, who refuses to earn a proper living. All because you utilize your education to irritate, in hopes of reformation.

We are constantly prapelled to respond to abominations and outcries of those mutilated, yet we can’t find the time to become a protester. Who constantly utilize their free time or prioritizes all of their time to better the world.

Under-Estimating The Importance Of Emotional Gratification, Incurred by Acting upon our desire to change the World.

Incomplete, our feelings when we suppress our innate urge to campaign and rally change.

Feeling Stuck…

Symptoms of suppressed Desires:

Anxiety
Slight/Light depression
Muscle tension
Unsettled; mentally and physically. Feeling the need to busy yourself constantly resulting in empty feelings.

Positive Manifestations derived from the Evolution of Human Urges.

All human desires are not promiscuous/evil. Nor do they lead you away from normal operations in life.

Alleviation of our connate calling to reform the world into a better place causes:

Effective
In control
Efficient
Influential
Complete
Empowered
Enriched with awareness of life’s purpose emotions.

How ‘Projection’ Slows Down the Path to Security Maturity — Infosec News Ireland

How ‘Projection’ Slows Down the Path to Security Maturity A little bit of self-awareness goes a long way when it comes to evaluating a company’s security maturity level. It’s also a prerequisite to improving. Recently, I observed a somewhat intense conversation between two acquaintances about a parenting issue. In this conversation, one person […]

via How ‘Projection’ Slows Down the Path to Security Maturity — Infosec News Ireland

Sagacity

I want to suck the nectar from his spine.

Ring the juice from his bountiful grape vines.

Pluck the fruit from his glorious trees.

Ring them apart to plant my own seeds.

Enter his brain and travel its course.

Mine out the Gold and cipher his source.

For this, I will need to cast a spell.

An illusion to drink from his well.

To pluck his rip fruit, I must prevail.

Determine the strength of his roots.

I need to raise up a troop.

So that I can become a well, and water my vines.

How to befriend an enemy? To make him speak, to learn of his penetralia.

Get them to cast a spell, have him believe that you are a dry well; just a bit gormless.

Dependant upon their strength.

A damsel in distress?

Or a strongly minded sang-from lady?

Maybe someone who is a bit in between?

A gentle being with a hint of masculinity? An effulgent aura!

I think the best is a young hungry maiden who’s comparable to a typhoon.

Typhoons strikes fear into the heart. All while causing their victim to feel awed. Causing abeyance at her presences or entrance.

Thinking run, all the while begging to be kissed by her waves.

Yearning for even just a stiver of her attention and care.

I know not the exact tactics to envelope his ways.

One thing I do know is that I will win this hunt and learn his sagacious ways.

Mr.T

Mmm hmm Mr.T

similar to the Grinch.

Who’s learned to smile bright?

Masking his face with light.

Mmmm Hmmm Mr.T, I don’t want much to do with Mr.T

I feel he’s sick

Not hurt, just sick.

What if it’s the other way around?

Who knows, I still don’t like this Grinch.

He steals the show, but I bet he’s truly a bitch.

And I don’t mean in the commonly used way, he’s untrue to the image he shows.

Some call him cute and I think ewww.

It’s not normal to be so good at being cute.

Sometimes I see the Grinch.

I just know he has a black heart.

He isn’t truly nice.

I say this because he’s maliciously sly; with his cute pleasant smile.

depicting a soft demeanor.

He has a hidden motive.

And like a switch, out comes his mask.

I think I could describe him as the “Son of the mask, discovered by the Grinch”.

He’s not a “yes man” but he makes people perceive him as just as easy going.

Any feelings?

Nope, I’m cold.

Or am I…

Because I do wonder and allow my mind to ponder.

But I’ll try to be nice to the Grinch.

Sisu….

Ambitions got a hold on me.

It’s burning in my chest.

Eating and consuming my flesh.

Tears gleaming in my eyes, begging for success.

Jittery, an explosion of massive energy.

This isn’t greed, Its determination of a dream.

A manifestation.

I’ve got grit signed throughout my genes.

Fulfillment of a proclamation.

Declaration of my previously mentioned assertation.

Not just verbal affirmation.

Self-driven, accumulation.

Ambitions got a knife to my throat. He even told me he’s been assigned not to let me go.

I don’t know why? I’ve got my own gun to his head.

I’ll succeed and then we can die.

I repeat this is not fueled by greed.

There’s no ambiguity nor ambivalence.

The feeling is immensely concrete.

God himself made it into a decree.

It’s written in ancient stone, fear has to flee.

There’s no space in my stomach for butterflies.

I’m filled and spilling over with ingenuity.

My mission can’t be compromised.

For the last time, this is not greed.

Just a fulfillment of intuition.

A conviction as I try to express my predisposed inner-mission.

I ingress, not simply definied as ambition.

I’ve got zeal, ammunition, hunger, and lots of time plus commitment.

I am a manifestation of the law of attraction.

You can characterize it as my genetic predisposition.

Each heartbeat propels me forward.

This can be simplified as a confession, there can be no intercession.

Not a probability, its a fact and definitely not an anomaly.

Stamped and sealed from the beginning of time.

Lastly, I was meant to win the race.

And no, I’m not simply speaking into outerspace.

My birth symbolic, of a worldwide resurrection.

I’ll now continue my conquest.

Even in the womb, it was coupled around my spine.

God himself, imparted me with this truth.

He said, “I’ve chosen you and you shall bear much fruit”.

Smile For Me

While reading outside of my work place, a man graced me with such moving words I almost lost composure. All witty thoughts that I’m most definitely known for left. My normal daring smirk etched upon my face, crippled.

“Your pretty. You must not pay attention to common men like me and only dote upon your Rich boyfriend.” Emphasis on the Rich if you haven’t noticed.

I blinked and blinked at this man, and tried to composedly reply. I was not particularly in the mood to jest with this man. (Because I was reading a book)

I said no, that is not the case. Trying to be short and cutting through the chase of a thralled out conversation. This post is not about how I turn down unwanted calls from men. Its more aimed at my thoughts after he had left.

This man ignored my book and went to complement me on my looks. And that I, as what he professed to be a beautiful woman can’t possibly have a personality. Lacking any depth to my choosing of a suitor. My main requirement is wealth.

I repeat I had a book in my hand. Most people no matter their sex, equipped with just a small amount of understanding in the art of conversing. Would start by engaging me through means of the book in my hands.

Either this mans remarks was a reflection of his own inner insecurities. Or he was telling me what mines appear to be. That if he had more money he would be able to catch the most dazzling fish in the sea. Neglecting the fact that after some time he’s going to need to be able to carry a conversation. And be someone worth being around.

I’m still quite fixated on these encounters and wonder how many women face them daily. No matter our surroundings of hints into our personalities, they still comment on the outer appearance. Assuming that we should be honored to have them complement us on something God graced us with, looks. That thing we had nothing to do with, and can’t change if we tried.

Inside of a library, world history museum and still people comment on our exterior. I now feel ashamed slightly for all past instances when I too complemented superficially upon the essences of people.

I wonder how it is in the life of a man. I shall have to take my time and ask about. How often do women hit you with a line dripping in skin crawling stereotypes?

Most humans are unattractive in numerous ways.

We complement each others beauty and ability to smile.

Never mentioning reality and delving into topics we ourselves long for someone to ask about. We are such surface dwellers dazzled by the chimerical aspect of life.

Miss.

Miss,with the eight and a half size feet.

Miss, she is truly uncategorized. She is simply reticent.

She’s nice but she’s also a trained eccedentesiast.

Too much is what she is, always being technical.

Questioning the sanity of others on a norm.

Smart but not quite wise.

Blessed but obviously fighting curses.

Miss, with the eight and a half size feet.

Is pretty according to the view point of others.

She herself is afraid to see.

See past her vain beauty and delve deep into her inner self.

She has orange cream sickle skin.

Thighs just a tad to big.

Open but foolishly closed.

Telling truths without divulging her truth.

Walks by dragging her feet and attempts to keep a perfect posture when she strides.

Eyes that have mastered the art of glowing upon call.

Discerningly pleasing, and pleased to please.

All because it sets other people at ease.

Skirting about relationships.

Befriending only to a certain degree.

Lazy while seemingly hard working.

Chatter box with an earnest heart.

gently assuaging the subconscious.

Unable to stay the same constantly growing in wanderlust by the day.

Miss, with what seems like two eight in a half size feet;

seeing in others what she refuses to see within herself.

Traveling to her Sophronia; A healthy state of mind characterized by self-control, moderation, and a deep awareness of one’s true self, and resulting in true happiness.

Unwanted…..

I don’t want his kisses.

I don’t want his love.

No longing for his fingertips to scale up and down my spine.

Not a touch on my inner thigh.

Not a pat on my behind.

I don’t want his tender love.

I don’t want him to make me moan, causing my toes to curl or point and my hairs to highper extend.

Neither do I want to be the fufiler of his lust.

The pinicle of his sexual prowl.

My lips on his neck and a tender hand at his nape. No

I just dont.

Wanting to synchronize breaths as we climax .

Staring deep into his eyes.

No desire for him to bequeath his kisses to my skin.

His hands to hold me like some love song.

I care not to smell him upon my sheets, basking in satisfaction and glee.

Or to regurgitate and remenince on his embrace when he is away.

Oh not this one…

I care not for his face.

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