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My Heart

On November 4^th 2008 at 11:25pm everyone was ecstatic celebrating like there was no tomorrow. For the first time in my 22 years and for the first time in this great country’s long history we have a black president. The campus was exploding in shouts of jubilation accomplishment, hugs, handshakes, and victory dances. While all of this went on I cried. It started off as subtle tears of happiness, but before long they transformed into soul shattering heart piercing sobs. I began to cry like never before and I could not stop.

This election meant way more to me than I could have ever known, but despite every scenario that ran through my head, I would have never expected to react the way that I did when it was announced that Obama had won. I have never been one to put all of my hope and faith into one person. In my heart of hearts I have always felt that we are the ones that dictate our own futures, and that we were the ones who should push and motivate our selves. But after years of doing it alone and feeding off of the motivation to rise up from where I came from, I found myself second guessing everything.

I started to look around and see all of my friends who had graduated from college but were working at H&M. I looked at my father who has worked since he was 11 years old, when he retired things were supposed to be different this was supposed to be his chance to enjoy life. Instead I am forced to watch my 60+ year old father walk out of his one bedroom basement apartment every night to go work his overnight shift. So while you have senior citizens who work to stay occupied, my father must work to survive. Despite all of his years of hard work, social security alone would not keep a roof over his head. I became numb to the sights and sounds of people my age in the same institution as I am, unable to write beyond the third grade level. I slowly began to make excuses and instead of seeing the solutions, I found it easier to pinpoint the problems. Life can be sobering when watching failure through the eyes of the ones you love the most. It hurts because you feel for your friends, and when reality hits and you understand that their fate can just as easily be yours, the idea that change is possible becomes a faint thought in the midst of your battle to survive. So when it was time to sit and do homework, I would stare at the paper trying to will words that would get me through another week of homework, but the only thing that would come out was the question that I had already tortured myself with for so long. “What for”? Why work so hard when I am more likely to be in the same position that I am in now if not worse. Why fight for student rights when it seems like no one else is willing to join in the fight, why try to educate people on their history, how can someone appreciate the past when they don’t even acknowledge their present.

I struggled with this for days, weeks and months, but no matter how hard I tried to hide this feeling of defeat it became harder and harder every day. So on November 4^th 2008 I stood at Suny Oldwestbury’s TV game room talking to a group of students preaching to them about a future that I was no longer sure of, hoping that through my words I could give them faith, and through their faith that my hope could be reborn, and just when it seemed like I was speaking in vain, the results came in, Barack Obama was the first African American President of the United States. So while everyone went crazy I stood there in shock, thinking about every moment where I felt nothing mattered, the hot mid- summer afternoons when I tried to take out a student loan to pay for summer classes but didn’t have good enough credit. Then I think about the day when my father told me I was living in a world of restrictions because I was a black man, and when I finally come to only about a second has passed, but it’s enough time for me to realize that nothing will ever be the same again.

The glass ceiling is broken, and hard work does pay off. You may not always inspire at the moment but as long as you plant the seed something will happen, and most of all if you never give up on the heart of people they will someday pay you back for your faith. I was ready to give up on my goals, I was one step away from falling into the same trap I worked so hard to avoid, and with the election of one man, I saw in that instant that everything is going to be ok. I don’t know when things will be ok, and I don’t know how it will happen, but god as my witness everything is going to be ok. So when that first tears slid down my cheek and I saw students of all class standings, backgrounds, races, religious beliefs and life motives hugging like they always knew each other. I knew there was hope for me and for everyone else in this world. So as long as I keep on fighting there will always be hope in this world. Obama won the election but in the process he along with every American man woman and child in this beautiful country gave me back something that I had been missing for a long time, my heart.

The Puzzle of infatuation

Bubbling from the inside pushing its way up to the core, what factors control the substance in which self control dwells.

Through tainted eyes the vision can be skewed to a point of disbeleif but clearly staking the blink remains the same.

Heat strokes for thoughts pass through the burning flames of mental slavery, but are then doused with the idea of wrong doing.

but through every visual stroke of eye contact the feeling is fortified, sending waves of guilt through the membrame,

How can one blink for she, when just the other he blinked for her, but through the dialated trial of her, the tears never rained a drop of truth.

so as she enters the level of reality, all is krystal clear to the naked truth of ones feelings.

The Miseducation Of The Man

A long time ago, and some time ago I was told to be a man you had to do certain things. But lately I have seen a contradiction from what my father has said to me… I call this the Miseducation of the Man See if you can keep up..

While I strive to become something beyond what my father ever imagined, I continue to try to build on whatever I already am. Because in my heart of hearts, I cant just be stanley, I struggle with the hopes of being remembered as a great man. With the honor that ones envy while keeping a humble soul that inspires love, with my father guidance, I want to be a man that the world can be proud of.

So curse real loud, and I sag my pants, following paths that dont always lead me to the future that benefits a soul……

And through the pressure of my peers I let go of my own beliefs and cave into what others think is the common norm

Why get a job, and strive to be something when one can slumber in the depths of his own failure. To be a man is to be different and the obvious goal is to just fit in.

I grew up in one of the roughest parts of Brooklyn and have shared the streets with men who have taken lives, getting the opportunity to dissect their thoughts.

And with their heart of hearts, the life they live is not the one they wanted when they were growing up, but the easy way out is not always the easy street that we see, but we cant face our fears and we dance on easy street, then when our love ones need us to stand we cant because our spines are meek, crubmling at the first pulsing pull of pressure.

I am a man, so I slide inside the velvety walls of your confines, stroking my way to my peak. This makes me a man and while you scream my name I take this intimacy as a victory

I am so big and strong and nothing matters at all so with a condom I entered who cares about reprecussions.

And when you approach me with that disturbed look in your eye, my shattered soul begins to cry because in the canal where my heart once laid I know you are with child.

But child you might be I cant face up to what I’ve done, but I can run because my fear is what I embrace.

I’m a man not from how I stand up to the pressure, but from the amount of baby mothers I can escape.

Fuck the son fuck the mothers and the daughters, Im no father Im no brother, I strive for the satisfaction of my own climax.

Make me a man be one of my own I cant stand for you alone because your growth will not benefit a thing for my soul.

But why do I do this………

I was born with the ability to facilitate life, with the strong shoulders so that my mother sister daughter, friend could shed her tears, but if I take on this role, the weight of the world may weaken me.

As a leader I stand alone, ready for chastise from all angels, To stand for my word is a pressure that folds me before I ever create a thought. The Idea of being a man is one that is more Convenient than the actual intent to live out what it means…..

I cant love another more than I can ever love me. The dedication, motivation and stamina it takes to help another soul, could destroy my personal joys as a heartbreak no matter how good is always inevitable.

I dont fear to be happy I fear the chances of complete failure, so to hide from what I am is the way that I can escape.

No father in my life, so why should I bother to love my child, through this tough world controversy is how we should all strive.

What I know…..

I cant define if I’m a man but my heart tells me what a man should be, I look at my father and he show’s me what a man is, than I look at those that I love and do everything to be the man they need me to be.

A man loves his friends and family giving them everything he can, Failure may be possible but through the toughest of times he’s unflappable.

But in the deepest heart of any man, fear is always the obstacle, for as I write this out to you, I fear it has not got to you, and I fret even more that I can not be the man that I ought to be…..

Without the chance of perfection I sometimes wallow in my imperfections but my passion for my life gives me the strength to continue my fight….. And through my fathers eyes I see a path and a future so bright.

A Man is In my Eyes

A man is the protector of all that is right, fear not what you cant do but fight for what is the truth

A man is the backbone of those who cant always stand for themselves… your battles mean nothing if you cant save another soul

A man is the outcast he at times stands alone with his words, but it is this audacity that establishes him as what he has to be

A man has the patience of a thousand lives, but the knowledge to react without a thought, A man is what you want it to be but in all he is honorable…..

My Thanks

I thank my father you have shown me the light and for my years alive I hope I can be what you are… Your strenght and your poise, your love and your pride has made me not afraid of others or even of my own light…..

And when I have a child I will raise him/her with pride I will raise my son into a man, or my daughter into a queen, My father didnt raise no fool he helped to build me….

And to the other Men in My life who have helped with this Blueprint… Darren we may not be blood but a second father Is what you are to me….

I strive to be something greater and these two men inspire me, I can never fail, because you two love me inspite of me…. so with your support I’ll call out to the others, I’ve done some good in my life but Now I need to save my brothers

To My brothers, black or white, spanish, asian, yellow, or green…. We need to stand and make a statement one the world has never seen.

Because of us this universe struggles we need to stand up to our test… The Miseducations of the man need to meet their final death.

And to those who love the life who keep this lifestyle and enjoy…. I cry my tears of hurt because yourself you will destroy….

But I can no longer sit back and hear the painful cries of this beaten world, I am a Man and I shall Stand with or without any other one by my side, and I pledge for my god and for the two men who have pushed me…. That I will give all that I have to push the Manhood Back Into The Man

They Dont Have To Know

….Covered in a spurt of instincts…. Heavy breaths…..panting… going so fast and yet its all in slow motion…. I strain my eyes to catch a glimpse of my actions, but the darkness of the room shoots me two pictures…one of the blackness around me, and the other, the outline of your body waiting for the second wave of action. Sweat streaks, nails, lips and Moans swoosh across my skin. Every action like a lightning bolt, the tension has built up and is now burning holes through the walls of our once sturdy morals. The room is coated with the scent of vanillia flavored candles and lust finally being expressed, and like the wax of the candle our Concious slowly drips away with every stroke that blends in with the sounds of  pleasure being expressed through the vocals of our once so secretive mouths.

Moving franticly yet methodically around the battlefeild disguised as a mattress I’m directly hit by the missle’s that are your legs. And with no chance to react the smooth hotness of your skin easily mixes in with mines, changing my once calculated moves into a now easy rhythm focused in and corperating through the participation from both of our bodies. sensuality has hit new peaks, and its clear that this is no short ride, because in the next splinter of a second we flow seamlessly into another position, friction, juices, and kisses directing our intentions through the art of our entanglemnt.

My hand roams so freely on the pearly warm flesh of your body, caressing the sweetness of your skin, breathing in your shortened breaths. You dig into my hunger for your body, scratching for some sign that this is just a dream and nothing in reality can feel this explicitly amazing. Instead the idea of a dream melts away when another orgasim has rocked you into a frenzy of euphoria.

A taste of heaven held between the soft coatings of the lips you just so sweetly kissed mines with simply moments ago. crazed and drunk with redemption on your mind, no trip to perfect hapiness can be given without one in return, so the idea of continuing your exploration of flavor is one that comes without a second thought.

But no action of selfishness is submissable in this tantric battle that we continue at the corners of the hotel room that we have so conveniently turned into our sanctuary. And we find ourselves going blow for blow in the pools of our own flavors. Where all the kisses, licks and caresses are returned with the other trying to send a new wave of perfection through the body of their counterparts.

Reeling from how great this is, I almost find myself forgetting that soon it must come to an end, at least for today, and just when I am able to block that thought from my mind, the web of sexual limbs that we have captured each other in, is interrupted by the sounds of “Teach Me”. Musiq Soul Child, croons through the speakers of my phone, sending a new sensation into my heart. But in the heat of the moment nothing matters but our instant. The song plays through, and even though I know its her, she can kindly speak to my voicemail because its always waiting to listen.

So captured in this time that were spending and all of a sudden she can hear her phone buzzing at a frantic pace, playing without ending to a tune that she wishes would die, But Halo’s belong to angels, and death is a distant dream to those who have reached this status in her heart. She almost stops in the middle of the action to answer but at this moment the one who seems to entice her soul the most is the same one stirring it with every pleasurable action known to man. So instead of coming to the callers beck and call, she goes on all fours asking for her partner to enter her from behind. And through every stroke she inserts a new reason to be mad at the caller, and when I pull her hair the pain and pleasure mixed into that sexual coctail leaves her drunk with no reason to feel guilt in this sexual bliss.

But this moment does not last forever, and before we know it the friction of our skin, the rhythm of our bodies and the juices of our souls overflow until the point of explosion. And with every ounce of energy left the implosion of physical, emotional, sexual, and moral fiber of both our bodies leave us in a pool of sexual satisfaction that even adultry can not spoil.

And as I lay there panting for air I cant help but think about how much I love my wife, and her beautiful smile along with how amazing she makes me feel, but even in the strongest of love, a moment of curiosity and a splinter of lust can create a tornado of passion with another partner. I love my wife but this feeling of sexual amazingness is on a level not ever comprehended with the woman I said I do too, so until that moment comes, all I can do is say to my self…”She dont have to know”.

Still foating on that cloud of ultimate satisfaction, the thoughts of her husband resurface, and although the pain and guilt of cheating on her companion for life stings with a sharp burn. the light hot, cool sensation of euphoria accomplished through this sexcapade leaves her so open with satisfaction, that it becomes easy for her guilt to slip through the cracks. The man that she loves is somewhere at home expecting her back from a night out with the girls at any moment, and through her adoration of him, the problems that plauge any couple has taken its toll on their once unbreakable bond. So until these problems are solved to a point where she can once again see progress all she can do is pick up her clothes and while in the shower whisper away the guilt with the words “He dont have to know”.

They Dont Have To Know…. Its not done but since you read my last little random thought slash Bitch fest, I owe it to you

Fast forward into time and we find a young Man, Broken to his core at the foot of his bed. The question plays quietly in the room like a whisper…. “How do you recover after you’ve been broken beyond your foundation, and then still shattered to more pieces. It was the sound of the phone that triggered the thought, which would lead him to the truth. Because through all of the troubles and all of the tribulations, he loved her, and nothing would stop him from getting through this rough patch with the only woman he ever loved. So with the idea that she was out with the girls, he went to go get a room at the nicest hotel he could find, so that the two of them could get away from everyone and everything, and rediscover the sanctuary that they once found in each others arms. Take a second to step away from this visual, and bounce a little into the past, just a splinter…. He’s in the Honeymoon suite a King Sized bed is covered in pink roses (her favorite) and in the background, Luther Vandross and Billie Holladay croon softly through the speakers, the scent that surrounds the room is the sweet aroma of her favorite Vanilla scented candles. The room is set up perfectly for them.

Make sure you check out condron.us

Guide to Troubleshooting Voting Problems at the Polls on Election Day, Tuesday, November 2nd

 

Guide to Troubleshooting Voting Problems

at the Polls on Election Day, Tuesday, November 2^nd

You may bring this document into your poll site with you.

 

PROBLEM	SOLUTION
I don’t know where my poll site is and I want to go vote.	Go online to the Board of Elections website at http://gis.nyc.gov/vote/ps/index.htm to find out where to vote, or call 1-866-VOTE-NYC or 311.  Note down your Election District (ED) and Assembly District (AD), they’ll tell you which table to go to at your site.
I’m not sure when the polls are open.	Polls are open 6am-9pm on Tuesday, November 2nd for the General Election.  At each poll site every voter who is in line by 9 PM can cast his/her ballot.
My poll site is not open.	Call 1-866-VOTE-NYC or 311.   Polls are open 6am-9pm on election day.   Try returning at a different time later in the day.
I am not on the voter rolls.	First, check with a poll worker to make sure you’re at the right table and poll site.  If you are, request and complete an affidavit ballot.
I need assistance voting.	Tell a poll worker you’d like to use the ballot marking device (BMD).
My ballot is torn because it was not torn along the perforated edge from the larger booklet of ballots it was in.	Give your ballot to a poll worker to void and get a new ballot.
I can’t see the font on the ballot.	Use the magnifying sheet in the privacy booth to enlarge the font or use the ballot marking device (BMD), which can enlarge the font.
I’m not sure which oval to fill in.	Disregard the directions on the back of the ballot, which are incorrect on this issue (they state to fill in the oval next to or above the candidate’s name in order to vote for that candidate, but the oval is actually below it).  Fill in the oval below the candidate’s name for which you want to vote.
I made a mistake in filling in the ovals.	Give your ballot to a poll worker to void and get a new ballot.
I want to cast a write-in vote but can’t figure out how to do so.	For a write-in candidate, fill in the oval in the “write in” box on the right hand side and write in the candidate’s name in that same box.
I can’t find the referendum questions on the ballot related to term limits and other issues.	Go to the back of the ballot to locate the referendum questions placed on the ballot by the City Charter Revision Commission.   To learn more about the ballot questions, go to: http://www.nyc.gov/html/charter/html/home/home.shtml
I feel that I don’t have enough privacy.  My ballot is visible when I move around the poll site.	Request a privacy sleeve from a poll worker.  Place your ballot in the privacy sleeve.
The scanner is not taking my ballot.	Feed the ballot in as you would if you were faxing something.  It does not matter which side of the ballot faces up when it is fed in to the scanner.  The scanner will read both sides of the ballot.   Ask for assistance from a poll worker if you still have trouble.
The scanner is giving me an error message that says I overvoted.	Press the red button on the scanner screen so your ballot is returned to you.  Do not press the green button, as it will cast your ballot without counting your vote in the contest for which you overvoted.  Give your ballot to a poll worker to void and get a new ballot.  You will need to fully complete the new ballot.
The scanner appears to have broken while I’m using it.	Ask for assistance from a poll worker.  If they can’t fix the problem, mark your paper ballot and submit it for safekeeping until the scanner can be fixed and the ballot can be read.

 

 

Useful Election Day Phone Numbers

Board of Elections: 1-866-VOTE-NYC or 311

For legal issues, Election Protection: 1-866-OUR-VOTE

 

Information was taken from The New York Public Interest Research Group. (NYPIRG)

 

Beautiful Problems, First Draft

Hey guys this is the first draft to the titled story in my upcoming book. There are plenty of errors in here but please read and give any kind of feedback you deem necessary.

Pain is Pain no matter where it comes from, But I never thought I would die alone. Never at one point did that though cross my mind, there was always an inclining of hope the idea that maybe something would be done about this and the day’s that began to be numbered the moment I was born, would be reset and I would have a new lease on life. But I have had no such luck. While most people my age look in the mirror and see youth, I stare at my reflection and confront this sad fate. One which was written for me long before I had the opportunity to intervene. This is my destiny, and this is my experience…….

Skin Sticking to the bones, the weakness in my body is so strong, its even a struggle to open my eyes, fourteen years old, and while most of my friends are starting their first year of High school, my nervous system is finally calling it quits, after losing a war with a virus that had us both ambushed from day one. With a chest that resembles nothing containing life, I resemble a skeleton. My face is sunken in and the glow that once filled my bright skin has now dwindled to nothing. I try to smile on the outside, but am bombarded by coughing fits, they leave my body trembling, and I convulse from head to toe, DNA shooting from inside of me onto the hospital sheets. The Air conditioning is on at full blast, but every night I’m Haunted by the fever that takes a nonstop toll on my body, swimming in my own pools of sweat, but everyday I open my eyes to repeat this oh so painful Process.

Its not easy to know that you will die someday, in a way we all know that death is not to far away; but for people like me I have been given the sad news that while some peoples life may be a marathon which will someday end with death. Mine’s will just be a short blurb followed by a not so pleasant conclusion. Aids, the other gift that was given to me by my parents. They chose not to stay, but left their poison flowing through my veins. They rejected my life, then gave me a postponed abortion, I never chose to be born and they now were making sure that I couldn’t choose to live. I wonder if they share the same fate as I am now forced to experience. I wonder if there is a loved one in sight to ease the pain from the swollen glands on their bodies, will their be someone to hold them when they are scared for what tomorrow may not bring. For I on this death bed have none of those things. Just a motherless child with no love to engulf him, and a fatherless son with no strength to support him.

I am over come by these thoughts, it is clear that my demise is only moments away, death hovers over me, I can feel his coarse breath prickling the back of my skeletal neck. With darkness as my future I so badly want to regret all of the things I will miss. I will never fall in love, never make it to college, never learn how to drive, there is so much that I will miss. When this darkness comes, I would have said goodbye to my last sunset, wherever I go, I hope the pain can never match up to what I’ve already experienced. But even in my darkest hour the regret just cant stay, I want to slosh in the pain, but my blessings wont go away.

The truth is, while I lay in this hospital bed my body slowly withers away, I have no strength to breath, and these dry coughs eat away at me, I cant even begin to explain this pain, but I’m still thankful for it all. I almost regret my guilt, when someone else has it so far worse. Everyone experiences pain, some physically some mentally, but in the end it effects us all even if on a different level. I’ve had a chance to live a life, there are those who took their last breath before their first, those who had their innocence taken, then were killed for it. If I close my eyes, I can hear the cries coming from the millions of little boys and girls, not even half my age, who will die a more painful death then me. No hospitals to treat them, their corpses rotting in the streets. No teary eyes on their behalf, their bodies are thrown into a pile, dead child, crying mother, fatherless son another dead victim. How could I ever feel like I’m the one with the biggest problems.

They will bury me with a smile, my death will be a blessing I no longer need this hospital room and someone more deserving can get it. I cant cry about my pain this life was meant to finish. In the end I just thank my Maker for the opportunity to even have lived it…. Beautiful Problems.

And It Continues

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Doing Our Part

Good afternoon everyone, I know you are all living your lives and many of you like my self are still reeling from the news of a massive Earth Quake in Haiti.

I’ve stayed glued to CNN since this incident occurred, but I have also had the opportunity to take a look at other media outlets. It was upon looking at these other outlets that I noticed that some of the reports did not just focus on the Earth Quake. There have been some that constantly highlight the negative aspects of Haiti. One reporter in particular seemed so disgusted with the Haitian people, that it gave off the impression he felt the Earth Quake as well as the damages where their fault.

I have also seen people who have expressed their frustrations with the reaction to the earthquake, they find anger in the idea that the U.S. would react so fast to the a foreign country, but either stumbled or were not as efficient during other Crisis that effected the United States directly, I.E. Hurricane Katrina. Than there are my fellow Haitians who are upset that it took a natural disaster of this magnitude for people to finally pay attention to the many issues that citizens of Haiti face every day.

For those of you who may not know much about Haiti, and can only go off of the information given to you via the Media. Please know that despite this disaster and some of the things that are going on, Haiti is a beautiful country with beautiful people. In times of darkness it is always easier to focus on the negative aspect of things. But I want you to know that Haiti was, and is a great nation of fighters and survivors.

We fought for our freedom, and became the first free Nation of African Decent, We paved the way for the freedom for many, and have continued to birth great leaders. The issues that Plague Haiti now are not all self inflicted, and because we were the first free black nation we have been made to suffer for it in many way’s (check your history). Despite this, we have and the citizens of Haiti have continued to survive. For those who are religious you know that Gods people will always be tested,we are being tested now, I know we will come through stronger than ever.

For my fellow Haitians who are mad that it took this incident to bring attention to our country, as well as my fellow Americans who are upset that the United States attention is diverted away from home and focused on Haiti. Know that I understand and respect your feelings, but this honestly is not the time to focus on such issues. Right now the people that need us the most are in Haiti and Dominican Republic, let us all work together and help them. Once that goal is accomplished we can get together and discuss how we can be more conscious and proactive towards other issues. The entire world is hurting and for far to long we have all been appeased with just putting the proverbial band aid on it, but now it is time that we all make an honest and heart felt effort to make our entire world a better place. It just so happens that Haiti is the starting point.