A Sexually Addicted Society

When we hear the word "addiction" in our society, images of crack heads, meth heads, gambling fiends or even Robert Downey Jr. and Amy Winehouse pop into our minds. We don't realize how addiction touches every aspect of our lives in America and around the world.

It seems everybody has got something that we cling to to get us through the day. Don't be so blind and self-righteous as to say "I'd never pop a pill or take a drink", but you can't go a whole day without an Aleve or a cup of coffee. Chocolate, sugar, dairy, even your coveted Tylenol PM are addictions just like sex, food, alcohol, gambling, cigarettes and perscription pills.

Americans are addicted. The media are the real pushers. Everywhere you turn there is a commercial about the newest drug or a song on the radio about sexing you up, going down and even "in the club".

Sex sells , so the record companies are filthy rich and don't care that the children are getting hurt. Our babies are listening and watching intently, learning with each commercial or video what it is that they need. As soon as 3:00 hits and the babies are out of school...here goes Clear Channel with nasty and absurd lyrics to phat beats. B.E.T. doesn't stop the videos. They roll all night long. B.E.T. is there whenever the 3rd grader finishes his homework. Put the audio with the video and you have instant hypnotism. Our children are hypnotized by sexually explicit words and images.
Everything is political. The more sexually addicted our society is the more HIV/AIDS cases spread (our Black woman is dying), the more abortions we have (stem cell research, y'all), the more rapes occur (the Black man is steady incarcerated at gross rates) and so much more. The sick cycle is spreading and the only way to stop it is by elevating our minds, shaking the hypnotism and by TURNING OFF THE RADIO...TURNING OFF THE BULLS**T!!It is WAR. Which side are you really on? Can you sacrifice not listening to Lil Wayne or the Dream or T-Pain...even Twista and Beyonce'? Can you skip Ludacris and BOYCOTT B.E.T.? If it means a more wholistic environment for our children's growing minds and spirits, I'll do whatever it takes. Sex sells, but Love heals...Holla if you hear me.

MANTRA: Breathe and let Light fill you. I will sacrifice what I do not need.

Slice of Life

The weather is excruciating. We’ve been waiting for a day with no rain and warm enough to sweat, but this is ridiculous. There are gnats everywhere and my 3 ½ year old complains. The park we’re visiting is new to us, right down the street from Bright’s tennis camp. The baby enjoys swinging in the baby swing that seems too high off of the ground. My nine year old races her smiling because he can finally beat someone at something. He is happy. My youngest son has had enough of the gnats and asks ever so sweetly to go home. Everyone is sweating profusely, so I oblige. I start to pull the baby from her swing, coercing the winner of the swing race to stop. He uses his bare feet to slow down, scraping them against the red dirt. He stops then laughs a hearty “I won” laugh at his baby sister. She cares only about sucking her right thumb and putting her left hand in my shirt. Bright is waiting in the car. The first day at tennis camp whooped him, and he hurt his knee. “Come on y’all,” I say. “Let’s go.” As I carry my daughter on my hip, and lead the two smallest boys to the van, I notice two young brothas walking into the park. They seem surprised to see people actually at the park during the hottest part of the day. I nod a “Wuzzhaninbrothas” nod and continue to the van. Once I got the children all settled in their car seats and seat belts, I look up and into the park. The young men had settled into the benches right under the only shelter in the middle of the park. The older one, maybe 17 was obviously teaching the younger one, maybe 14 how to do something. The oldest had all the youngest’s attention as he spoke. It seemed the younger one hung onto every word, nodding as his elder spoke. The older one was milk chocolate skinned, thin and tall. He wore dreds and a basket ball jersey with a white T underneath. His jean shorts were way too big and almost touched the ground as he sat at the shelter. The younger one sat directly across from him. He was very dark chocolate and short. He was sporting a “faux hawk”, the half punk rocker and half B-boy style hair do. He wore way too big shorts and a too big white T. I sat with the van running and AC cranked, witnessing their exchange. The children were all glad to feel the air, so I got no complaints to start the ride. I was engrossed in this slice of life. The elder pulled out from his pocket two Styrofoam cups. I did not notice as we passed each other that they had anything with them, but I was preoccupied with 3 year old chatter about gnats. The elder also had beside him a 2 liter Sprite bottle, but it wasn’t clear like the lemony-lime caffeine free soda usually is. It was pinkish-purple so I knew it was that lean. The elder began pouring for the both of them as he steadily spoke. The younger ones eyes were fixed on the cup, and as I witnessed this ceremony, my heart began to break for them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZjauVbd3EE

All right! All right! All right! All right! All right!

I been doing this great work ! I have planned and sacrificed...built and philosophized. I have hustled and I HAVE NEVER GAVE UP! This dream in my spirit is not to succeed personally. I know for sure personal success will be a byproduct of this hard work. Naw, the dream in my spirit is for us ALL to succeed. I mean every one of us. I have a plan, a detailed step by step strategy to heal this world. See, I have already started with me and now I'm reaching out to my sistah's, who when healed will reach to the brothas and children, who will in turn reach out to others to spread this LOVE.

CAN A SISTAH GET SOME SUPPORT?

I mean, DAMN! People talk all that shit about how f'd up the world is but when somebody got a plan and is whole heartedly ready to execute it, where is the love? My peeps, where you at? Fellow artists, where YOU at? Family, where you at? Stop just talking that talk and walk the walk with me. Join www.truelovemovement.com and support a strong sistah tryna make a positive change.