Okay. I couldn’t resist, so we’ll just have to enjoy two posts of music therapy today. I love this song!! “Stay” baby! If I was lucky in love one of the two guys that messed up my head recently would be singing this song to me. Oh well. Gotta get back focused on my non-love-related priorites. Hee hee.

Ya’ll don’t know nothing about this!  This is grown folk’s business.  Lol.

Lyrics:

No one ever said it’d be easy baby, yeah, woah, woah, yeah

Girl I wanna take the time and thank you
Just for putting up with me
And I’m sorry that you even had to deal with me
Even though I made you cry, I wanna make it right
Just give me some time to make it right
I go the extra mile to make you smile and
Just to make your day
I’ll go out my way I’ll do whatever it takes
Baby promise you’ll stay, stay
Stay baby, would you just
Stay, stay, baby
Stay, stay, stay, stay
Baby won’t you stay?

I know that I messed up over a thousand times
Said you wouldn’t forgive me but somehow I changed your mind
And now that we’re here, I just can’t let you go
And I got your ear, baby girl I gotta let you know
I go the extra mile to make you smile and
Just to make your day
I’ll go out my way I’ll do whatever it takes
Stay baby, would you just
Stay, stay, baby
Baby won’t you stay?
With me?
Hey, stay, stay, stay
 
Girl I need you in my world
I want you to always be my girl
Even though I messed up, oh, I messed up
You took good care, always took care of me
Baby would you just stay
Stay, stay, stay
Stay right here
Stay, stay, stay
Baby would you stay with me
Put them bags down,let’s work it out baby
Stay, stay, stay baby
I want you to believe in me this time
This time this time, I’ma get it together
Stay, stay, what about the marriage life
You were supposed to be my wife…
Put the bags down at the door…
I won’t put you through it no more.

Lyrics:

Dreams, that’s where I have to go
to see your beautiful face, anymore
I stare at a picture of you and listen to the radio
Hope, hope there’s a conversation
where we both admit we had it good but
until then it’s alienation, I know, that much is understood
And I realize

If you ask me how I’m doin I would say I’m doin just fine
I would lie and say that you’re not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
and finally I’m forced to face the truth
No matter what I say, I’m not over you
Not over you

Damn, damn girl you do it well
And I thought you were innocent
You took this heart and put it through hell
But still you’re magnificent
I I’m a boomerang doesn’t matter how you throw me
Turn around and I’m back in the game
Even better than the old me
But I’m not even close without you

If you ask me how I’m doin I would say I’m doin just fine
I would lie and say that you’re not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
and finally I’m forced to face the truth.
No matter what I say, I’m not over you

And if I had the chance to renew
You know there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do
I could get back on the right track
But only if you’d be convinced
So until then

If you ask me how I’m doin I would say I’m doin just fine
I would lie and say that you’re not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
and finally I’m forced to face the truth
No matter what I say, I’m not over you
Not over you
Not over you
Not over you

I’m standing at the edge of an abyss wanting to propel my body away from solid ground and into oblivion. This metaphorical lust for a free fall to my death, an expedited route to permanent escape, holds me in its grip like a junky craving another line of coke. I am one of those Serenity Prayer knowing but unable to practice it individuals who could easily be consumed by her rage over the injustices of the world if she allowed it. However, I try not to. I constantly seek to overcome, to put my positive mental attitude (PMA) in action at all times. It’s like I need to participate in an episode of “What The Hell’s Eating You African America”, but spending any more time bitching and moaning without focusing on the execution of solutions would be an egregious waste of time and human capital.

That said, I am starting to devolve as a human being, because I don’t manage my rage well anymore. It gnaws at my soul like termites on wood, and I’d self-destruct completely if it weren’t for my better judgment regularly holding me back. All I can do is speak for myself and my experiences as a human being, and ultimately, my synopsis of the current state affairs in the South and possibly in America is that being a thinking and socially aware black person can sometimes make it very difficult to maintain a modicum of unmolested sanity.

What’s more, some of us darker-hued homo sapiens/humans are inundated with various forms of negativity traps like a blog I both respect to some degree and abhor “What About Our Daughters”. In these instances, we must manage the conflicted emotions of somewhat appreciating a blog that seems to blur the lines between activism and constructive exposure to important issues and the addiction to pain that we seek to avoid as a part of the “if-it-bleeds-it-leads” ideology that drives most of the popular headlines that grace most media outlets. That doom and gloom stuff serves to chronically pollute our perceptions of the state and characteristics of black identity in America be we white, black, or somewhere in between. Consequently, I don’t know Gina nor have I interfaced with her personally, and yet, I realize that her blog has a very narrow focus; championing black human rights violations against primarily black women and girls. But just reading black media in many cases, can be an exercise in aggravating the post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms made manifest in our lives on a regular, if not daily, basis as a result of the systematic abuse and psychological programming we receive from infancy onward. In other words, we must escape the B.S. and balance our inputs, so that we can remain constructive, positive and proactive (not just reactive), if not hopeful, as a collective (or some semblance of a people/community).

My personal roots are decidedly southern. I am a Texan and Louisianan at heart, and I can tell you that anyone even remotely conscious and affected while growing up in the deep South knows that it isn’t a bed of roses for dark-skinned people (i.e. those with features considered categorically black/African). We are inundated with the antics of closeted racists who seek to kill, steal, and destroy all things that are non-white (and therefore decidedly inferior – let them tell it), and we are conflicted by the tragedy and oppression of being dependent on the very people who are hostile toward us for access to resources and economic mobility. That shit fucks with me on the regular basis, but we are culpable in our own oppression to a large degree.

Times like this, when Trayvon Martin-like cases erupt on the national and international scene, outside people who choose to be conscious of the sufferings and plights of others beyond their in-group get a glimpse of what we experience everyday as people of color: injustice and a societal bent focused on our destruction through various forms of aggression, marginalization, and overt and covert manipulation (i.e. social engineering).

Only the blind among my own so-called “kind” can be oblivious to the inherent social and economic tax of being black. Whites have more room for cluelessness due to their ability to live fairly sheltered lives that insulate them against the egregious blight that some people have made being a member of the black diaspora out to be.

That said, there are many BWE bloggers who are focused on the science and art of living well. That’s were hope lies for the survival of some members of our so-called “race” though not all. Action, though largely covert by necessity (see the “Art of War” – Sun Tzu) is our only potentially saving grace. It’s survival of the most strategic and cunning out here on Earth; as is evident by watching the incessant dance of individuals, countries, and etc. jostling for control over resources (just look what’s going on with our Palestinian brothers and sisters in the Euro zone). And if you believe for one minute that a post-racial America is eminent due to the Obama-era being in existence, you’d better wake the fuck up fast buddy. Lol.

Strategize, execute, achieve and ultimately be well!

Your sister if you seek to understand and do what is right for yourself, your community and for mankind in general,
Kay

Lyrics:

When she was just a girl
She expected the world
But it flew away from her reach
so She ran away in her sleep
and dreamed of
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise
Every time she closed her eyes

When she was just a girl
She expected the world
But it flew away from her reach and the bullets catch in her teeth

Life goes on, it gets so heavy
The wheel breaks the butterfly
Every tear a waterfall
In the night the stormy night she’ll close her eyes
In the night the stormy night away she’d fly

and dreams of
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise

Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh
She’d dream of
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh-oh

lalalalalalalalalalala
And so lying underneath those stormy skies
She’d say, “oh, ohohohoh I know the sun must set to rise”

This could be Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh

This could be
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise
This could be
Para-para-paradise
Oh oh oh oh oh oh-oh-oh-oh

Copied from MetroLyrics.com