You know the opening lyris of the song by "Baby Cham" : Ghetto Story:
this is my story
Original story
this is my story
real ghetto story...
Well, this is me FINALLY making sense of WHY I am the way I am... and why I am unlike anybody else, and why, in my down-to-earth way, I am actually...superior. Really! And why I can not say that this is why God loves me so biasedly, but rather that HE loves me, and so I am that way...
A few days ago, worrying about some details or other, I prayed some prayer to God about it, saying basically I was totally confused, and would this ever end...et.c;
Immediately afterwards, as soon as I stopped talking, He responded:
I have given you a companion, my own soul
Just like that, and THAT puzzled me more, because it would have made more sense to say "your own soul", or "My own soul", to indicate who it came from, right?
except that God does not see Himself as being different from me, or as me being distinct from Him, so what he was saying was...and it took me a while to figure it out, days actually... was that I have a 'soul' that is as distinct from anyone else's as the sun is to the earth, because I am wholly immersed in Him, and I see as He sees, and independent of anything that he has created, which means, when one gets down to the meat and bone of it:
I shape reality, mine and others', the way I want it to be
and have been doing it from birth, actually, so that there is no point where one can say, OK, I stop here and then God can start, and perform miracles...there. There is no line separating me and God...much, I suppose, to The Holy Spirit's chagrin... where he can then say, "Aha, now I have got you"...what I do, what I think, is 100% sanctioned, conceived and actuated by God Himself, which makes me, as I said, quite an untouchable and unique person, for whom, even in the weirdest situations, difficulties seem to just part and flow the other way.
Like right now, when I am saying that there are ten women I am drawing to myself, contrary to both tradition and well, common sense, but it will happen, because, I found out why it would yesterday, right after getting out of the library.
so, I walk to Sunny Cove, to board the train for free, to Glencairn, to then walk to Simonstown, and as soon as I get to SC, and I am talking to this security guard, we both stopped and saw this quite good looking white chick [ah, what I would call good-looking would be, for her size, what someone else would call 'full-figured', meaning generous ass and thick calves...and soft breasts] walk, wearing a skirt and calf length boots, hair all properly tied so that no strand was loose, and wearing such an attire as would make her mingle with a crowd, unnoticed.
Eye candy, in other words.
She walked to the solitary rocks by the sea, and sat there, took out her cell-phone and presumably started texting.
Now, a full-blooded male like me would normally jump at that and walk after her, but I realised that we would have all manner of talk, and it would go one of two ways:
She would look down her lovely nose at me, and wonder what kind of presumptuous bug I was, thingking I could chat up a white woman
Or she could react to my natural arrogance [its in the way I walk, I talk... it draws out anybody I ever come into contact with, like a screaming loudhailer that says, "Hail, the king is here"], and try to cut me down to size by showing that SHE also is something.
So, I did nothing, reflecting that she is just self-conscious about her figure, and would re-act like a leach if I took pity on her and talked to her. There was nothing that made her stand out, that 'marked' her as different from the rest of humanity, something that would make her pause before making any 'assumption' as far as...well... I am concerned.
In other words, she would bore me in less time than it took to open my mouth.
It was then that I realised that what marked every one of the ten women was NOT the fact that they were obviously vulnerable and, in one measure or another, quite in despair without being desperate [desperation implies you have a 'solution' to the problem but you are not there yet...like I am right now] but that they had, basically from birth, had some kind of 'distinguishing feature' that made them all too aware of the underlying cruelty and nuances of people to people, in their everyday talk...something that made them listen less to words than to the gestures, actions of people that cloaked these words, or movements.
Which is why I came to the conclusion that the woman I instantly said would be the tenth and the last, whose face I did not properly see, and who, after being almost invisible to me as she walked towards me [meaning she was not a threat, so I let her be], suddenly, as we were about to meet, as she was about to come into my personal space; walked into the His and Hers Clothing shop...and paused at the doorway, her back to me, one foot on the threshold, with one hand on the doorpost, face half-turned towards me, and the right hand pushing the golden hair back as if she was posing for me.
It was not the ass she was showing, but her back. One only gives one's back to someone one trusts, and that was what she was saying... I trust you, and the pause also showed her weariness with life, as it was.
Which alsoexplains why the chick I called at the Beach, who walked without touching the kids, out of my way, was 'relieved' when she saw me turn her back on her...I was dismissing her as no threat, but I would have been offended if she had held her kids to her as if I was out to harm them... and SHE also made such a show of turning her back to me, before turning to me.
And why the chick with lipstick looked so worriedly at me when I stood aside for her to walk past, and she was searching my eyes till she found that I really was just enjoying the view, not condemning her, and she was sooo relieved.
And why the Glencairn girl STOPPED when I suddenly turned the moment she walked right behind me. I did not like her. Something was off about her. And she saw it.
this is my story
Original story
this is my story
real ghetto story...
Well, this is me FINALLY making sense of WHY I am the way I am... and why I am unlike anybody else, and why, in my down-to-earth way, I am actually...superior. Really! And why I can not say that this is why God loves me so biasedly, but rather that HE loves me, and so I am that way...
A few days ago, worrying about some details or other, I prayed some prayer to God about it, saying basically I was totally confused, and would this ever end...et.c;
Immediately afterwards, as soon as I stopped talking, He responded:
I have given you a companion, my own soul
Just like that, and THAT puzzled me more, because it would have made more sense to say "your own soul", or "My own soul", to indicate who it came from, right?
except that God does not see Himself as being different from me, or as me being distinct from Him, so what he was saying was...and it took me a while to figure it out, days actually... was that I have a 'soul' that is as distinct from anyone else's as the sun is to the earth, because I am wholly immersed in Him, and I see as He sees, and independent of anything that he has created, which means, when one gets down to the meat and bone of it:
I shape reality, mine and others', the way I want it to be
and have been doing it from birth, actually, so that there is no point where one can say, OK, I stop here and then God can start, and perform miracles...there. There is no line separating me and God...much, I suppose, to The Holy Spirit's chagrin... where he can then say, "Aha, now I have got you"...what I do, what I think, is 100% sanctioned, conceived and actuated by God Himself, which makes me, as I said, quite an untouchable and unique person, for whom, even in the weirdest situations, difficulties seem to just part and flow the other way.
Like right now, when I am saying that there are ten women I am drawing to myself, contrary to both tradition and well, common sense, but it will happen, because, I found out why it would yesterday, right after getting out of the library.
so, I walk to Sunny Cove, to board the train for free, to Glencairn, to then walk to Simonstown, and as soon as I get to SC, and I am talking to this security guard, we both stopped and saw this quite good looking white chick [ah, what I would call good-looking would be, for her size, what someone else would call 'full-figured', meaning generous ass and thick calves...and soft breasts] walk, wearing a skirt and calf length boots, hair all properly tied so that no strand was loose, and wearing such an attire as would make her mingle with a crowd, unnoticed.
Eye candy, in other words.
She walked to the solitary rocks by the sea, and sat there, took out her cell-phone and presumably started texting.
Now, a full-blooded male like me would normally jump at that and walk after her, but I realised that we would have all manner of talk, and it would go one of two ways:
She would look down her lovely nose at me, and wonder what kind of presumptuous bug I was, thingking I could chat up a white woman
Or she could react to my natural arrogance [its in the way I walk, I talk... it draws out anybody I ever come into contact with, like a screaming loudhailer that says, "Hail, the king is here"], and try to cut me down to size by showing that SHE also is something.
So, I did nothing, reflecting that she is just self-conscious about her figure, and would re-act like a leach if I took pity on her and talked to her. There was nothing that made her stand out, that 'marked' her as different from the rest of humanity, something that would make her pause before making any 'assumption' as far as...well... I am concerned.
In other words, she would bore me in less time than it took to open my mouth.
It was then that I realised that what marked every one of the ten women was NOT the fact that they were obviously vulnerable and, in one measure or another, quite in despair without being desperate [desperation implies you have a 'solution' to the problem but you are not there yet...like I am right now] but that they had, basically from birth, had some kind of 'distinguishing feature' that made them all too aware of the underlying cruelty and nuances of people to people, in their everyday talk...something that made them listen less to words than to the gestures, actions of people that cloaked these words, or movements.
Which is why I came to the conclusion that the woman I instantly said would be the tenth and the last, whose face I did not properly see, and who, after being almost invisible to me as she walked towards me [meaning she was not a threat, so I let her be], suddenly, as we were about to meet, as she was about to come into my personal space; walked into the His and Hers Clothing shop...and paused at the doorway, her back to me, one foot on the threshold, with one hand on the doorpost, face half-turned towards me, and the right hand pushing the golden hair back as if she was posing for me.
It was not the ass she was showing, but her back. One only gives one's back to someone one trusts, and that was what she was saying... I trust you, and the pause also showed her weariness with life, as it was.
Which alsoexplains why the chick I called at the Beach, who walked without touching the kids, out of my way, was 'relieved' when she saw me turn her back on her...I was dismissing her as no threat, but I would have been offended if she had held her kids to her as if I was out to harm them... and SHE also made such a show of turning her back to me, before turning to me.
And why the chick with lipstick looked so worriedly at me when I stood aside for her to walk past, and she was searching my eyes till she found that I really was just enjoying the view, not condemning her, and she was sooo relieved.
And why the Glencairn girl STOPPED when I suddenly turned the moment she walked right behind me. I did not like her. Something was off about her. And she saw it.
