A New Chapter In My Life.

I am going through a new stage in my life, It’s a struggle now but I am still driven to be where I want to be in life. I want to do different things, I want to try different things. Like Do I really think I can really have a career typing all day? Do I still want to make the food industry my career choice just because i love it and that has been my path since I started working and that is pretty much what I know and am used to?  Is this the time to play it safe or explore my horizons?  I know one thing for sure, I definitely have to do things different and change things for the better.

Dancers among us!

I love this!!! Great Pictures. Really Captures the essence and feelings blended with the elements

Chicquero

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dance in-San-Francisco-Sharon-GallagherDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-Sarasota-Danielle-Brown62Dancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-Times-Square-Jeffrey-SmithDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-San-Francisco-_Brendan-Barthel-and-Victor-TalledosDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-Times-Square-Jennifer-JonesDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-Washington-Square-Jorge-TorresDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-Washington-Heights-Tenealle-FarragherDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-Westchester-Dayla-PerkinsDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance Minetta-Lane-NYC-Alex-WongDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance NYC-Subway-Allison-JonesDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance on-5th-Avenue-Michael-McBride-and-Ellenore-ScottDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance on-Broadway-MIkey-CusumanoDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance on-the-Highline-Karin-Ellis-WentzDancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - 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Dancers-Among-Us- chicquero photography - dance in-Time-Warner-Marielis-Garcia

“The inspiration for this book came to me one afternoon as I watched my son, Hudson, playing with his toy bus. I was trying to keep pace with his three-year-old mind as he got deeper and deeper into a fantasy involving nothing more than a yellow plastic box and armless figurines. At least that’s what I saw. He saw frantic commuters rushing to catch the 77 local bus to Australia. He jumped in place, mouth open and slapping his knees, joyously reacting to a world I couldn’t see, but one powerfully present for him.”

“What happens to this enthusiasm, this ability to be wholly present in the moment? Why are these pure moments of passion so often replaced with cynicism, boredom, and indifference? As I played with my son, I thought about creating photographs that would show the world as if through his eyes. The people in the images…

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Sullen

Walking down the gritty streets, Misfortune and Ugliness surrounds me.

I am a piece of the garbage blowing about, along with the rift raft lined up against the fences.

My insides twist with despair. Oh, the decisions I have made, Confliction on my beliefs.

Slowly the memories flow before my eyes,  You voice echos in my head, vivid as so I can almost see the smoke rise as though seeing the heat coming from your mouth. And still after knowing what I know, the mere thought of you knocks down all my defenses.

I can almost see the smoke rise as though seeing the heat coming from your mouth. And still after knowing what I know, the mere thought of you knocks down all my defenses.

I have lost you, or I never had you. I am still confused on whether I am hurt by your betrayal or I am pleased to have the memories with you, Memories of you loving me.

As I walk my body hangs low and slump. Some part of me is missing, What am I lacking?  Was it all Lies?

I say this to myself,  grasping for an excuse for you. A reason to believe just to get me through.

This day mirrors my thoughts, gloomy and dark. A constant moisture shields my tears, City life drowns the sound of my cries.

Sullen. My heart beats never like it did before. The speed from the anticipation of your call, or when I knew it was near for me to see you,  I have never felt again. Moments when our eyes locked, watching you talk, being close to you..

Even remembering these moments makes my heart skip a beat and my eye’s flood with tears, as I know I am no longer waiting for you, no longer grasping all of you, even longing for your call.

The pain stabs my soul.  Emptiness fills my whole body.  My heart is Shallow and hollow. My cries echo within me.

Sullen, Is my face. The color has left me, My eye’s no longer gleam.  My mind constantly drifts in hopes of seeing you again. Passing me by on the street or driving by.

I get lost in wondering if you would remember my face in the crowd, Would your heart flutter? Would a smile curve on your lips or  would your eyes hide their existence?

I am tormented every second. With the loss, the devastation and utter pain of losing you, As I am haunted with the hopes and fear of our reunion.

The cold bites my face,  but I am numb.  I walk aimlessly, dreading the night fall. Darkness surrounding me, highlighting the loneliness I feel.

As this night drags and this hole enlarges, I am swallowed in endless misery.  bouts of hysteria overwhelms me with, but there is not outlet. No release from this term, which was once Love between You and I.

I look at a store window to see my reflection, what I found staring back at me was fading away.

 

Our ethical bankruptcy is going to kill us, not a virus.

The Order of Turbulence

Johann_Melchior_Füssli_(1677–1736),_Sketch_of_a_Cordovan-leather-clad_doctor_of_Marseilles

The United States has the most capable health infrastructure and the most capable doctors in the world, bar none,” Lisa Monaco, President Obama’s senior counter-terrorism adviser, said at a White House briefing. (“US Ebola outbreak ‘extraordinarily unlikely’, White House officials insist.” The Guardian)

You might wonder what a ‘counter-terrorism’ adviser is doing vouching for the quality of the US health system. It is an indication of just how badly this issue has been framed since the first report of the latest Ebola outbreak, which began in March of this year. Nor is it helpful that the current head of the CDC keeps insisting that an Ebola outbreak couldn’t happen in the US. And even more laughably, there’s a DA in Texas who looking into pressing charges against Thomas Eric Duncan, the Liberian who fell sick in Dallas.  Let’s hope he lives long enough for that to…

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Cold as Ice

You can be so cold.. No Remorse or regard for your actions..

You don’t even care I can see. Im just at your disposal.

My heart sunk Just as fast as it melted for you, Disbelief and betrayal wraps around me.

A fool in her own skin. You flesh hot like fire, your voice the calm before the storm.

With eye’s so piercing, A touch so rough, my knee’s buckle.

But soon you show me feelings aren’t mutual.. I was just a game..

Sex is what I mean to you.. A trophy for your Manhood.

Your actions are Cold, relishing in disregard. With such authority,  you hurt my feelings..

You’re as Cold As Ice.. And I think it would be best if I stayed away my love…

I Can’t Help It

I am drawn to you, I want to be closer to you.

Thoughts of you flashing in my head, feelings resurfacing.

The closer I get to you the more nervous I become.

Your body language excites me, Moving swift and rugged.

You showed compassion which warms me, gentleness enveloping you.

I can’t help reaching out to you, I can’t help wanting to see you.

There is a freshness to our union, Chemistry with understanding.

This is a new union, One that I hope will last a long time.

Something about you has attached to me. I didn’t see this coming,

And I can’t put you out of my mind. I just can’t help it

Last Week Was a No-Good, Very Bad Week for Misogyny in the Music Industry

This is insane.. Men can really be ugly dogs

Flavorwire

Six months ago, Future was on the top of the world: a son on the way with fiancée Ciara, sophomore album Honest garnering critical praise, and a new song with Kanye in which he brags about both. “I Won (Trophy)” positioned Ciara and Mrs. West herself, Kim Kardashian, as trophy wives to be shown off for their physical assets, rather than their numerous professional or personal accomplishments. It was gross, though the fuckboys I saw praising it on Twitter didn’t seem to think so. Flash forward to last week, when Future emerged with an even grosser ode to female anatomy, “Pussy Overrated.”

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