Why Tattoos are Stupid [A Random Rant]

 

Why are you getting a tattoo? For your deceased relative? (RIP Baybay) Because it looks cool? Because you just need a Japanese symbol that may or may not represent some virtue of life you’re probably not living by?

Stop with the tattoos. I understand your Grandma died (Love you Mawmaw) and you want to remember her forever, but if she means that much to you, you won’t need tattoos to remind you of her, you’ll have the memories to remind you. You’ll have how she treated you when you visited her, or the taste of the food she cooked you, or those delicious candies that all grandmas seem to have, to remind you. If you need some quote about life or love or some Bible verse to be tattooed on you so that you won’t forget it, it obviously doesn’t mean that much to you.

If a person or idea or saying means something to you, it’ll forever be carved onto the walls of your heart. The meanings behind tattoos, just like tattoos themselves, are only skin deep. They’re superficial.

If it means that much to you, tattoo it in your heart, etch it into your soul, so that person or that idea that you’re trying to remember becomes a part of your soul, showing itself through your actions and your way of life, instead of simply through a bit of ink on your arm.

Now if you lose a bet, that’s a whole ‘nother story.

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…you must hav…

…you must have noticed that most people resort to prayer ONLY after everything else has FAILED! Or else they pray by a ritual of meaningless words. And, because it is a fact that most people who pray, do so ONLY AFTER EVERYTHING ELSE HAS FAILED, they go to prayer with their minds filled with FEAR and DOUBT, which are the emotions the subconscious mind acts upon, and passes on to Infinite Intelligence…If you pray for a thing, but have fear as you pray, that you may not receive it, or that your prayer will not be acted upon by Infinite Intelligence, your prayer will have been in vain…
-Napoleon Hill, Think and Grow Rich

This is why our prayers don’t work. 

We spend day after day, night after night living how we want, doing what we want; and the second something goes wrong in our lives, the second our walls come crashing down, we pray. We ignore God for 90% of our lives, then use him a last resort.

I know you know somebody who only hits you up when they need something. They don’t ask how you’re doing, they don’t take you out to lunch, they just call you and ask you for a favor. And I know it pisses you off. 

That’s what we do to God. We hit God up when we need something from Him then get mad when He doesn’t give it to us. This is why our prayers don’t work. Why should God give us anything? What do we do to deserve Him answering our prayers? 

God answers the prayers of those who are faithful to Him. He answers the prayers of those who pray with complete faith and who are willing to pray more than once to get it. 

If we really want our prayers to work, we’ve got to stop using God as a last resort. We’ve got to be patient and willing to pray time after time for something that we want. 

Prayer does work, we just have to be willing to put the work in.

Real & Fake: Your Words vs Your Actions

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We’re all fake, and no one can convince me otherwise.

People complain that everyone has become “fake” and that there are no more “real” people around in the world. Being real means that your words and your actions perfectly align. That you are what you talk about. But the truth is, no one’s actions align exactly with what they talk about. We say we won’t put up with that person that cheated on us, until we take them back. We say we we’ll leave and never come back, until we visit home and miss everything about it.

As imperfect humans, we’re walking contradictions, our words far from our actions. And what makes it even worse is that we try to justify it when we do something that doesn’t line up with what comes out of our mouths. It’s kinda sickening. We’re all hypocrites. We’re all fakes.

I think we should just stop using the word “fake” to describe people. As humans, we were born into “fakeness”. Adam and Eve clearly told God that they wouldn’t eat the apple, and look what happened. Their words contradicted their actions. You can say someone’s “fake” for talking behind your back or being mean to you, but they’re not fake, they just suck. So quit calling people fake, when you’re just as fake as they are. That’s like the pot calling the kettle African American.

Honestly, we can’t stop being fake. We’re going to change our minds, say things we don’t mean, contradict ourselves. It’s in our nature.

So stop thinking your so “real” because you’re not.

You just as fake as I am fam.

 

Life in Ben’s Basement

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Ben and Austin cuddle sesh

 

 

Let’s be honest. At some point in your measly existence you’ve had the joy of being in Ben’s basement.

For many it was for the coveted “movie night” (cuddle sesh) and for others it was to swim in his (our) wonderful pool. Ben’s basement has been the place that has fostered my growth not only as a young black man, but as a smooth operator as well.

Okay, maybe I’m not a smooth operator, but the point is, there were weeks where I spent more time with the DBC (Doe’s Basement Club) than I did with my own mother (Love you mom). Everyone has a place like this. Everyone has that friend that you can go see at any time of the day or night and feel right at home.

We need these people in our lives. Sometimes when our real homes become too much or we become too bored from the monotony of day to day operations, we need somewhere else to go.

I’ve built my life in Ben’s basement. I learned how to solve a Rubik’s cube there. I’ve eaten more than $10,000 worth of food there (Love you Ben’s mom). I saw people receiving cheeks on (and behind) his feaux leather L-shaped couch there. For Pete sakes, my first child was born there.

Alright I don’t have a child but if I did he or she or whatever it is would probably be born right on that same feaux leather couch.

And as we draw toward the end of our senior year of high school I can only think of the great times we’ve had in this basement; and the sadness I’ll experience when we grow up and buy our own houses with our own children having “movie nights” in our own basements.

Why do things have to change?

 

11:41 PM – May 21, 2014

 

Look at the stars…Look how they shine for you…

It’s a beautiful song. I hadn’t listened to Coldplay in God knows how long, but for some reason I put it on tonight.

Look how they shine for youuu ooo..oo..

I look on Twitter and I see everyone succeeding, growing, moving up in their place in the world. Everyone’s getting scholarships, college acceptance letters, job promotions, the whole nine yards. I couldn’t be more proud of everyone in my life. We’re doing big things. With all the chaos in the world – the natural disasters, war preparations, kidnappings – we’re finding our way.

Next Coldplay song.

The lights will guiiideeee you homeee.. And I will tryyy..to fix youuu

It’s storming outside. When you’re on the ground all you can see is the clouds, feel the rumble of the thunder. But when you take flight above the clouds, the universe is your limit. You look down on the darkness and the storms and the rain and you feel the warmth of the sunlight above you. At times we tend to see the world for the storm that’s raging. But when we elevate our mindset, truly lift our souls to the heavens we’ll be far above any rolling of thunder or clap of lightning. You’ll be able to look down on the chaos and look back up to the sunlight above you. You can see the stars that are millions of light years away, they’ll seem close enough to hold in your palms.

Come on babyyy, don’t let it breakk ya hearttt

Dream big. Shoot for the stars. Work hard. “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” [James 4:8]

Don’t let it, break ya hearttt

Chronicles of a Black Kid with a White Name (#4) – You’re not black, Tim

Pictured: Tim (second from left) with white friends walking into party.

 

Me: “Man, I love being black.”

Everyone: “Oh, Tim. You’re not black. You don’t count.”

Are you serious right now? Nothing pisses me off more than this, and I don’t even blame the people who say it to me. Because they’re right.

To have the honored distinction of being called “black” means you have to talk like you’re from another planet, read at a 3rd grade level, and flip off the “opps” every time you pass a cop car. This is crazy. What is wrong with you people? Last time I checked, being black meant you were a part of a certain race. It’s a physical characterization. Since when is “being black” a description of how you act?

And don’t even get me started on the word “ghetto”.

Now you can go and blame it on everyone else, but it’s black people’s fault. When people see us, they see pants lower than our GPAs, hear words that cannot possibly be comprehended by any creature in land or sea, and watch us fight on Vine. And then black people have the nerve to make upstanding black citizens (such as myself) feel bad for not acting like that.

If that’s what it takes to be black, then I don’t wanna be black.

I don’t act like I’m black, or white, or any other race. I act like I’m me. I act like I”m human.

So next time you feel the need to tell me how white I’m acting or how white I talk or how normal I dress, save it. I don’t want to hear it. I’m black in the most physical sense of the word, but never do I act black. You can’t act a color.

And to black people who conform to this new description of what it takes to be black, stop. You’re making it hard for black kids with white names to break out of the stereotype.

Because honestly, I’m not even black. Next time I’m asked What race are you? on a standardized test or job application I’m bubbling in the Other choice and writing in what I really am.

A light skin.


 

And continue to follow me on my journey of a black kid with a racially perplexing moniker.

 

Unleash Your Power

I’m sitting here watching the finale of Dancing with the Stars, and I recognized one of the competitors had two prosthetic legs. When she was younger, she contracted bacterial meningitis and had to have her legs amputated – and she’s in the finals. I just can’t help but think of how powerful the human race is. If you want to do something, and are willing to push your boundaries, you have the power to do, to be, to accomplish, to fix, to solve anything and everything. 

God gave you power, not to put away and hide, but to use to become an inspiration to others; and, the sooner you realize it and choose to unleash it, your heart, your mind, and your soul will never be the same.