• Lifestyle,  Writings

    Your Parental Self-Assumptions

    Sitting here dealing with hunger beyond belief. Microwaving rice with somewhat sensible seasonings. Steak-umm meat, and sour cream. Grateful for the sense of budgeting I have right now. $20 is gone before you know it. It’s 3:42 am. I cannot sleep because I have had an entire pot of coffee over the last 12 hours of yesterday into today March 27th. And my pride prevents me from dealing with the berating attitude of those around you, you may ask for help from. I will starve before I listen to someone bitch on the phone and interrogate me for my homeless situation right now. Sometimes it’s easier to spend $1.20 on ramen for the night and let God handle the rest. This bible verse calms my soul, and I hope it does the same for you.

    ‘Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.’

    Phillipians 2:4

    “This is your fault” – A post on toxicity and more here, and here

    “Choose better people.” – A post on the meaning of friendship here, here, and here

    “Go work.” – A post on how hard I work here

    How is it that you parent yourself? How is it that you take care of that part of you that was beaten and broken and had to be built up in order to ‘grow up.’

    Always privy to a sense of classical music playing in my mind when sometimes the current people I surrounded myself with would make me go through the very things mentally that I had tried to escape as a child. The household is perfect to you. The book is good to you. The song was your favorite.

    When you want your own identity, you get tired of seeking the validity of others tearing you down just to tell you that their favorite part of you was when you were ____. Likely something that was accustomed to listening under their rules. Following their guidance. And without realizing that as a boyfriend who did not have my best interest at heart, you were pissing off my inner child. I would ask myself why that would be a motive for regression into an argument. Often being called a scared little girl that was running away. And you’re not realizing your very involvement in the things that don’t bring me pleasure and comfort are just some of the reasons I feel like running away from you. Not something widely understood, often underestimated is the ideal communication an abusive man can have with you. My mannerisms need to be suited around you making me feel insecure for no reason?

    The parenting part comes in. You don’t give my inner child relief. That’s the truth. And when you don’t realize yourself that your inner child needs healing, it goes around hurting other people.

    A stanza that refers to Pegasus, I will share with you an excerpt from “Aesthetics & The Theory of Criticism” by Arnold Isenberg reads:

    From following walls I never lift my eye,
    Except at night to places in the sky
    Where showers of chartered meteors let fly.

    Some may know what they seek in school and church,
    And why they seek it there; for what I search
    I must go measuring stone walls, perch on perch;

    Sure that though not a star of death and birth,
    So not to be compared, perhaps, in worth
    To such resorts of life as Mars and Earth–
    Though not, I say, a star of death and sin.
    It yet has poles, and only needs a spin
    To show its worldly nature and begin.

    To chafe and shuffle in my calloused palm
    And run off in strange tangents with my arm,
    As fish do with the line in first alarm.

    Such as it is, it promises the prize
    Of the wone world complete in any size
    That I am like to compass, fool or wise.

    Part II, Chapter 8: Cordelia Absent

    When you read that poem how does it make you feel? When you think about the truth in how you prevent others from healing their inner child, how does that make you feel? How would you feel if you were stifled from healing in the same ways you do unto others? Berating, interrogating, accusing? No matter the assault to the nature of the person, you have often an unresolved issue with your own inner child which is why you choose to lie about the parenting intentions of another person. The loving intentions of another person. Your overall personality can be undervalued by the people around you. They knew that they are not healing childhood wounds with you and would rather lie to themselves and others instead of making things easier for you to open yourself up to them.

    So when your friend or someone close to you lies, what do you do? Do you believe in the hypocrisy you just participated in? I have always had a desire to be at rest and peace without feeling that my inner child needs to be healed with someone who cannot incur a positive relationship. I would find myself not a fan of someone’s way of living in lies and not have a desire to not be around them at all. Rather seeking solace in a book. To lessen the impact of the attack. By clicking here Google will give you a concise way to work through healing your inner child. I will tell you, writing poetry and other creative expressions like painting, singing and dancing, listening to Chillhop, volunteering, being around family, relinquishing myself to the earth in a lawn of freshly mowed grass even…

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    What Is Your Purpose?

    Oftentimes people don’t ask themselves what their purpose in someone else’s life is. My purpose being more light work related than yours sometimes. I still come and leave in as much peace as possible. Never to return to what didn’t inspire me before. I never had to ask myself who a best friend was or what it entailed. It didn’t entail vengeance for me. But for some, of course it would. And whatever it picked up along the way that had the same unfamiliar uncomfortable qualities was a lost cause to it’s succubus energy. I had not paid attention to the eye rolls in public while I was writing. The female friends who had so willingly gone after men that I had adorned once, thinking I would suddenly want them back. Not realizing that even the smallest parts of me was not willing to circumference their insecurities about my craft enough to bow to them before I bow to God and pray for them. That being the ultimate truth. You need prayer and my absence from your life. In remembrance we can coexist until you feel it necessary that I am one of the people you desire to be completely honest with. Suffering is a choice. Your choice to make someone else suffer by hating their way of creatively expressing themselves, in turn makes you and others around you suffer. My inspiration to write does not come from the suffering of others. That’s the difference.

  • Writings

    The power of transparency

    I fell so deep in love with Gramatik in 2008. A conversation with a High School friend for years, our love for this music was always a topic I must admit. His music carrying me to far away places that I knew I loved escaping to, with words and art and childlike laughter around. Sometimes adults because I would just pop out my laptop no matter where I was.

    I believe in the power of transparency. I truly do. I personally get disgusted oftentimes the less someone is transparent with me. Thinking of it in the sense that I love eating my ramen a certain way.

    Translucent: (of a substance) allowing light, but not detailed shapes, to pass through; semitransparent.”

    Translucently: The quality of allowing light, but not detailed shapes, to pass through; semitransparency

    Sometimes thinking of myself as translucent…

    That way they are somewhat ‘see through’ although they are not. 4 minutes and 15 seconds is the sweet spot on most microwaves. It was the summer of 2023. I was quite irritated at the downfall of certain things in my life and alternatively had no patience for much at the time. Sometimes life will feel like there is a force arguing with you, when you instinctively have no reason to have a force arguing with you in any capacity.

    Well the argument is well within myself most times. Outside stressors causing an argument with or against me sets my intentions to write. To sing. To create. To paint. To laugh. To be around family. The joy that you can ultimately receive from the most in depth parts of yourself.

    “What is your joy El’Aundra?” I would inherently ask my arguer, whether it be me or another person.

    Developing a sense of mentally working through this wireframe of emotions, I formulate these questions. And I share with you my responses…

    1. What is your joy?
    2. Are you stealing it from yourself?
    3. Where did it go?
    4. How do you plan on getting it back?
    5. Who is responsible for it being gone in the first place?
    6. When do you want it to return?

    What is your joy?

    The asking of myself what my joy is a loaded question. What if there are so many things that bring you joy, pages and pages of paper cannot be filled in one hour. Shall it take days? Shall it take years? Lifetimes? What things give you chills when you read them? Have you up at night thinking about how to be a better person. With the definition of ‘Joy’ being: “A feeling of great pleasure or happiness.” Does your joy hurt others? Does your joy heal others? A quote I admire reads:

    ‘Karma moves in two directions. If we act virtuously, the seed we plant will result in happiness. If we act non-virtuously, suffering results.’

    Sakyong Mipham

    Are you stealing it from yourself?

    I don’t think we share enough of our joys with other people that don’t include the obvious. I know your family brings you joy, but what song would you want to play at the dinner table that could be representative of your love for your family? Your respect for your community? Your honor and value when it comes to being held accountable as a mentor and mentoring those around you? Shall we not honor these topics, your joy can be stolen from yourself. Nevertheless, someone else can essentially steal something that brings you joy; but if you know how to recreate it, how is it really gone in the sense that you cannot re-obtain it because it was stolen in the first place?

    Where did it go?

    Oftentimes not realizing when we befriended ourselves and others less or worse than we have at other times in life; our joy can disappear. Alternatively, joy can reappear the more we make efforts to be our best friend or another person’s best friend. All lies aside. We should always think of the ways in which we treat others as a mirror to how we are also treating ourselves. And how will that then show up in your life? When or how will it have you to your knees praying for forgiveness? Not only is it understandable and human nature to come to this point, its revolutionary to our self improvement. My self help book list can be found here. I assure you, it will bring you a renewed sense of peace to read these books. They have helped me immensely. Another way to find your joy…in a nook reading a book. Do you find yourself so unbalanced at work, that it seems there is no joy anymore? Self help is a door that opens other doors to discover who you are and why you do the things you do. Without feeling like you are being blamed. Shamed. Discarded. The book is always there for you to go back and reference. Helping you reframe your way of thinking and create new and improved steps to walk through life…and all the while bringing you joy.

    How do you plan on getting it back?

    The work in ourselves to get the joy back can be one of the most fruitful endeavors we can go on with our subconscious inner self. I would look at the computer thinking, I am certain I have the inspiration to write and heal more than I have the inspiration to write and hurt. Often times people had no idea of my upbringing. My childhood might have been your perspective and less of mine. I chose often to be ok with people speaking on my life and me not speaking up for myself. Seeing the durativity of insecurities of sharing with others being a problem for me. I didn’t want my insecurity to write be something that lasted a long time just because a man or woman’s hatred for my perspective was something they felt their ego needed to feed on at the time. My ego was contained… in humble words collectively intertwined. Getting it back came with prayers, steadfast inspiration from the world around me. The senses that we have contributing the most.

    • Vision: The ability to see and interpret visual information. 
    • Hearing: The ability to perceive sounds and auditory information. 
    • Taste: The ability to perceive flavors through taste receptors in the mouth. 
    • Smell: The ability to perceive odors and scents through the olfactory system. 
    • Touch: The ability to perceive physical contact, temperature, and texture through receptors in the skin. 
    • Vestibular Sense: The sense of balance and spatial orientation, which is crucial for maintaining equilibrium and coordination. 
    • Proprioception: The sense of body position and movement, allowing us to know where our body parts are in space without looking at them {credit: Google}

    Who is responsible for it being gone in the first place?

    I chose to take responsibility for my joy being gone most times. Was it that I was not being honest with myself about how I felt about writing? Painting? The outlet of my creativity was not for someone else to put ropes around, and act as if I was in a ring to fight with them. Albeit, being honest with themselves would entail them to realize someone else has a story of who they are just as much as you. And they are just as entitled to speak their truth. It just happened that mine was resulting in a tad bit more art than Monet (no artistic comparison in style or otherwise, I admire without constraints). A tad more poetry than Edgar Allan Poe. Writing in a style that only I knew. How is it the very men and women that didn’t like reading what I wrote had no problem with causing the heartbreak and heartache in the first place? And yet, some movies and songs admired are about love. But you had no desire to love what I do creatively? I shall leave you with time and space of 40 years at least is sometimes what I would think in my head. My joy cannot be something I cannot get back. Some people use it to esteem their joy and then give that joy to the world. Ask yourself at this moment “Can I give more joy to the world.”

    When do you want it to return?

    I want it to return in time. In time I conquer the emotions, words, colors, smells and everything else to create my masterpiece. And no matter what, you should feel the same about your joy. For it reveals a sense of clarity, which is essential to the power of transparency. All transparency included, the joy will return to you when you open your heart.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Love Poems,  Writings

    Lofi Beats

    Today my research has been on lofi beats and the current issues with my printer. As I sit here and have a state employment application for a job; I have had a short fuse all day. Define short fuse…certainly doesn’t make you want to be around someone and have coffee to explain what you’re going through. Things all work in an organized fashion in life. How to lengthen a fuse? Remove yourself from your stressors. Run from these things that bring you no sense of clarity. Albeit most disturbances are that way. No matter the noun.

    Sometimes I wonder why in such a world as the one I live in; do people continue to lie and paint stories that are not true…

    Press play on a lofi tune..

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Book Reviews

    My Self Help Book Recommendations

    Speaking to a level of trying to work on yourself, I recommend you read these if you haven’t before. I revisit them often. On this journey I have been on, with collecting more about myself to be on a search for deeper value and meaning in the people that I encounter. Too often, people don’t realize the focus of a monk is not a bad think; nor the commandments when solace is needed to get your home, food and other necessities in life. Sometimes people feel like if they take that from you; they have ‘something’

    These books are what they have often lacked to look into… have someone recommend for them. And it’s not their fault. But I am willing to share these titles with you, they are magnificent.

    1. Eckhart Toole- A New Earth
    2. Oprah- The Path Made Clear
    3. Gabrielle Union- We’re Going To Need More Wine
    4. Deepak Chopra- Reinventing the Body; Resurrecting the Soul
    5. Jack Herbert- Creating a Successful Restaurant
    6. Deepak Chopra- A Path to Love
    7. Louise Hay- Heal Your Body
    8. Jean Shinoda Bolen- Goddesses in Everywoman
    9. Elizabeth Gilbert- Big Magic

    More on my homeless situation (I say situation because misery is sometimes a choice as well) that has been eye opening in terms of being able to reflect on my choices to maneuver life in a way that didn’t involve enjoyment in being toxic to others, and trying to wrap my head around things in a containable manner with inspiration in these books.

    Blessings.

    Current Events:

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Writings

    You Cannot Grow With Everyone

    Go, as you wish most times is what people would sit and tell you repeatedly. I stay trying to perfect a routine of ambiguous efforts to adjust the way I have been living in the past to something current and concurrent with the time in which I live at the present moment. Albeit in your mind, a place different than mine; my efforts to contain my dignity is daunting. Some things in the most recent past being ashamed of people having less time than I needed to speak my truth.

    Not adhering to your standards of arguments and justifications of where I am in a present moment, I do believe people ask for what they need when they want it. To which request we should listen. With there being no excuse for not growing ourselves. It’s seeming as common sense when you think about it. I cannot say where I am coming from at all times without having a story to why I may be here in the first place? Is it of my control, or others. Speaking in tongues even the most distant would not care to understand. I get sick of circling and sick of being sick in the miles per hour my mind thinks about doing things in a different way, when I am supposed to be searching for a sense of peace. Truth in peace at best. Tired of people taking that from you. It’s a badge of honor to be able to withstand the judgement of someone else when they have not alternatively been through what you have been through and cannot react to things in the same way quite possibly. I often look down asking myself why don’t they just keep their hands to themselves. Mouth. Bad aura. Bringing only the good around someone should bring something worth growth but I toss that in my head that you cannot grow with everyone.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    Cut and Dry

    Like butter his skin.

    Was softer than it seemed.

    My love for you.

    Was deeper than the seas.

    Like frosting to a cake.

    He was sweeter than my dreams.

    My need for him.

    Was stronger than iron cleaves.

    Like wind to a storm.

    I was safe with him.

    My heart for his.

    Was the easiest man to please.

    Like flower to the soil.

    I will grow from him.

    My life with his.

    Was the dream that brought me to my knees.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Uncategorized

    Order Delayed

    I had quite the experience with an order today. It said a specific time yesterday. And then that changed. And weird things like that can always happen but sometimes it can be tricky. They took care of the issue. But said the order was indeed changed. And I have video of what it was yesterday. And today. And I didn’t change it. So these inconsistencies can cause issues with trust. And trust goes a long way.

    IF I WAS YOUR EMPLOYER OR FRIEND

    And I say it like this because there’s a level of concern for you and your reckless behavior. Trust me, I care. Get this book:

    My condolences to your ego. I can’t imagine how this must have hurt and frustrated you. I sincerely hope you find it in your spare time to find a sense of peace for yourself. The world is hard. It can be so beautiful and we have had a wonderful time having you as our inspiration for a blog post today on the workflow and developmental issues that occur in our everyday life in dealing with such circumstances that make us work hard to stock and deliver. I’ve done logistics and shipping and warehouse. And I know your job is hard. I’ve worked it. Albeit you want your comedy career and I understand you wanting to further that journey. I encourage you to explore your options and be free to share your experience with us about the outcome showing the time of the order. Do us a favor and explain in a humorous format why you, as an employee may feel inclined to bring your personal issues into work when we have EAP for you to use

    Sincerely, El’Aundra

  • Writings

    Weary Trails Writing

    What’s sad is people get information that was sensitive in the first place. Post it in a group chat or on social. It gets back to the person so they can set the record straight. Which is good. But how often does setting the record straight lead to a sense of relief? It’s an understanding that not every lesson you have learned in life is for other people to consider throwing their judgement on.

    I may have taken away something from you. I may have gone too far with my argument with you. That wasn’t a reason to be a jerk. Even more than if I had just apologized and you left it alone. I didn’t have to continue. I don’t have to continue. I don’t have to hurt you. And if I had decided to go above and beyond, yes; I would feel guilt. Asking myself, which way could this go is sometimes the next thought for the me, albeit I might be the arguer in the situation. Should it be the next thought, maybe an apology would ensue. You would know I had feelings. I had a heart. I was real in a sense to acknowledge your pain. Fine. It’s all settled for now. I don’t like the way I feel when I have to be mean to someone. When I have to discard patience.

    Are you strong enough to handle someone coming to you and pleading for information about me? Can you be that strong person that isn’t going to go and tell my most intimate secrets? What if I am so self-aware and in tune with myself that I am not ashamed of myself. And I don’t like making someone else feel ashamed of themselves. I find myself wanting to learn how to be better. Be more managing of how they feel in a way that doesn’t discredit them as a person. And knowing I want to treat someone the same way I would want to be treated. And even in the event that forgiveness comes in; And with your level of discernment at that time being so low, you won’t be a good judge of character regarding that person fishing for information. And you will bow. Crumble. Releasing things you shouldn’t have said. And in my regard, that’s all I have done in the past. Is set the record straight about things. With the respect that there’s work to do within myself and time to ask God for peace. But I know I can make my own living being in my truth. I would just consider it best with due respect to how it’s delivered. How it’s done. I would get tired of other people trying to beat me to the punch when who I am as a person physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually isn’t your tender to worry about. Rushing to tell the next person a detail that you think by telling a third party is somehow going to make them feel uncomfortable. For me. it might be different. I love to talk. It may open me up. Maybe it won’t. But they’re feeling like it’s a burden that they carry in the eye of others. When it’s really just a burden they carry in the eye of them. If and when this happens to you, don’t allow yourself to be the filter for them. Behind closed doors your heart and your mind are in the gold mines for them. There are things that happen to people to make them divulge in a lack of discernment they can’t come back from and when they learn that sometimes knowing that the chain link of them strengthening their discernment is going through and mastering different levels of trauma. When you have been violated over and over, you have a way about you that shows people sometimes what you have been through. And letting the wrong people into your life can dive you deeper into your trauma. People are damaging sometimes to tell you to not live in your trauma; when you have to live in it to go through it. And going through the motions of healing can often be the most treacherous part. Sometimes people think the aftereffect is worse. Because they are alone and have to build back up. Sometimes I stay trapped in my trauma because I have a fear someone won’t be there to receive it for/from me. Massage it. Have I moved on from things, etc. It becomes a whole entire other level of sickness when you are so selfish with your motives and judgement and want so badly to ruin someone else that you push your way through that boundary.

    Let’s say you want to dig for some information on someone. You go into your social media and search and find so much information about them it changes the way you feel about even going that far in the first place. Maybe it’s to send them a message. I remember the many times I did this and somewhat immediately regretting a part of myself getting so upset. I needed to take a break and rethink that. What I said. How I said it. Alone. A time out perspective. How we present ourselves even on social media can be considerably different from who we are as a person. In motion.

    What if I cast a spell on this person?

    Why is that your first thought? What is it about casting a spell that seems positive or negative to you? What if that person doesn’t want to be attached to you? Asking yourself if that person has ever said anything emotional to you that may tie you to them. Do you realize the restrictions that can put on someone?

    What if I go and lookup the high school they went to and try to find information about them?

    The damage you could do by opening doors that were not meant to open. Did they go to prom? Did they have friends in school? Who were their friends? And you are only doing this to hurt them. Of course there’s a way someone would feel. Intruded on. And maybe even like they wished they had the opportunity to talk to you and tell you who they are without you having to do all of that just to get information about them. They didn’t concern you. It’s a beautiful thing when a man goes to propose to a woman, and he used to go to school with and looks her up online. Making the appropriate arrangements along the way.

    What if I found this person so “interesting” I want to make a podcast with them?

    What if you found them so interesting you actually wanted to SPEND TIME WITH THEM. So many times I would sit and want a boyfriend to make cute music videos with. To do stuff like interviews. How I would take it is you find me so interesting that you interview me? It excites you to ask me questions about things. Because you’re able to fall in love with me as a person because of how I am talking to you.

    What if I want to know even more about them so I sit and cause infidelity?

    What good would something like that do for the person that you’re doing it to? Can you incorporate them and make it ‘good’… can you make it ‘okay’…can it be ‘fixed.’ And to what extent would you go to cause this to that person? Sometimes I reel in my head so much about infidelity I lose sleep. I lose pounds. I lose inspiration. A will to thrive. And it’s that very intoxicating suffocating feeling that makes me want to not talk. Shut down. In the same respect someone not being able to open up about how they feel can do the same. Or what it is that they have done.

    I know the times I had not been faithful; I wanted to come back. I think it was my pride that didn’t let me come back. Would not let me crawl and bear my soul for what I had done. I had lost out on maybe what seemed to be good relationships in the midst and good people. For the fear of how they will perceive me. The most damaging part was realizing that in the time it took me to throw it away and come back; they could have met someone else who will be their crutch if I fail to massage their emotions or ego the way they want or the way they think that person does, and even then thinking that the other person can provide more comfort. What would that do for me? My soul? How could I come to you and feel like a good, honest woman who needed a second chance; knowing I am on a timeclock with you. I am in a recording studio. I am in a court room. Everything I say and do can be used against me. You can just say that you want to continue this intermission on the side while you ‘give me another chance.’

    For which I should be grateful, right? Then give me a chance to be grateful. I have to have at the very least, that.

    I didn’t always think there was a reason to not have that conversation. So much of the lead up the you being unfaithful is you lacking something either in your relationship or you. More of the desire to mask a part of yourself you feel is irrevocably lost. I don’t know why at the time I would be in so much fear of being honest. Wanting to just live in a better light with people I chose to be around. Knowing that with the more time that was passing and me not letting them know how much I valued or loved them; would make them initiate me out of their life. The initiation into your life being you proving that you come peace. I bring you no harm. I bring you happiness. Good. Comfort.

    No doubt there was always a desire to provide that. But the question may have been:

    ‘Do you like to dance. I see this other girl dancing on her ________ maybe you should.” Me wondering if you think I am a good dancer? Am I good at entertaining?

    “I follow this one girl on social media. She is really funny. She does these skits…” Me wondering if you think I am funny? Do I make you laugh enough to want to be around me and film me doing skits?

    What does a model or actor need to play a part besides their costume? Encouragement. I had that sure. But did I lack confidence? Did I lack strength? Support? Encouragement to myself?

    And I think to myself that I would love to open myself up to a world like that. But quite honestly, how? Where do I even begin? How am I supposed to look at myself? I already have issues with how I see myself sometimes because of everything I have been through. Some days I feel like a beautiful female and some days I just don’t. I don’t know why it is sometimes, but we don’t really stop to think that someone doesn’t see themselves the way you see them because of what someone has done to them and less of what they have done to someone else. I swear I had a struggle feeling pretty this morning. I walked into the kitchen and said,

    “I don’t really feel all that pretty today.”

    I had serious issues with my life in general when I woke up. There were things I wanted to fix. And places I wanted to go with myself. But my trust barrier was broken. I had no idea if I could trust. I would do some creative work, then fall back.

    “Maybe I don’t want the attention.” I would think. Is it fleeting? Will I have this attention when I need it most? When I get home from work?

    You, as a man sometimes might sit there and say that I bring you to your knees. And then I leave you there. But to that, I respond

    “And even when you get up, are you pointing your trajectory at me?”

    “As cupid, is your arrow pointed at me? How is it that I brought you to your knees and left you?

    “Are you saying I had you to the point you would have done anything for me?”

    Maybe I need to figure this out. Relating every feeling I had to everything in front of me. The idea of a general public wanting that part of you and you have no idea how to give it.

    I would sooner think that if I had you to the point where you would do anything for me, I would not be complaining about the load that I have to carry. There would be things that I would celebrate. And sometimes, can’t be celebrated because you really have been brought to your knees. And refuse to get up and take me to the party. You have been on your knees praying for me to let loose right? To be myself. To open up. Trust me, if a man was on the sidewalk on his knees; I would know to allow him to stand up and meet me eye to eye as a gentleman. I am not your master. So, you do not need to stay on your knees if you don’t want to.

    “I’m just not ready right now.” And there we have it. Given up before it even has a chance to manifest.

    I got upset at myself more and more. More self-damaging behavior like smoking cigarettes and things like that. Not that writing is self-damaging or that it isn’t a form of self-care but I felt like the words were bubbles in my head trying to push through bricks. I didn’t care to push back and fight in the slightest. There was a part of me that knew running this race… like this… for this is only going to make me lose. I never felt like it was a race I had a chance at. Moreso feeling like it was a race I didn’t have a chance at. I was a loss before I began. I remember looking up pictures and photographs of past experiences and then thinking what was my mindset then. Where did I find more character? How did I find more strength? Nevertheless, people are just going to assume so much about where it might come from. My strength comes from nature. My desire to dive into the self-damaging behavior was the desire to mask the pain I was experiencing. Initially feeling like it wasn’t something I really deserved to go through. Why me would be a common outcry. Then saying to myself, it’s you because you choose it to be. Choose it to be something else and it will be. But to what avail? What vice. I got too comfortable at times relying on the silence in the room as my vice. That kept me up. Going. Alert. Joyful.

    And they share some of the most intimate secrets about someone else. And you have to realize they start to love the company of you. Love making friends with someone who dislikes this person just as much. Just like high school. And the same way I was then is how I am now. Back of the room. Just primarily observant. Less threatening when it comes to attacking with vengeance and creating hardship. More prayer for the weary.

    I worry about how I am going to seek to present myself to others.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems

    Listen to my voice

    I think sometimes it’s a threatening voice.

    Billowing of sorts.

    Sometimes there is a tone of discomfort.

    A tone of unhappiness.

    A tone of stress.

    A tone.

    And you hear it.

    I do something at that time.

    Which in time could hurt.

    Although you may feel it.

    What does it take for a sense of peace to work.

    I would have sung a tune in front of you.

    If you were musical.

    Enough for you to receive.

    The truth being you hate it when I sing.

    Which is hard for people to believe.

    You pile with people who feel the same.

    Not asking for more and more.

    Hoping that when you silence my voice.

    It will even up the score.

    I gave into these problems.

    And issues you have.

    Knowing that if you loved my voice.

    Just like Young Jeezy

    You would’ve wanted to go half.

    Half on whatever it took,

    To make me into a whole

    Lying to yourself

    So Santa brings you coal.

    In terms of regret

    Of which you should not feel

    There were secrets between us

    That’s only being real

    XOXO, El’Aundra

    Disclosure: Writing is a form of art to me. Poetry in a sense. And sometimes a more definitive type in itself. That being said, I am a huge fan of Miguel Ruiz’s principle “Don’t take anything personal.” These writings are something I have enveloped myself in since a child. Words have been a part of my life since a child. And as I got older, I appreciated my craft for what it was without giving too much attention to negative scrutiny.

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Poems

    Leave That Girl


    I love landscaping. Always an inspiration…

    Leave that girl that leaves you empty.

    Come here to be with me.

    Lay here connecting the dots.

    Reading all of my intoxicating energy.

    Take me home with you my chocolate love.

    Passing signs on the route to your house.

    Make me a spiked hot cocoa in a campers’ mug.

    I promise I’m humble, you don’t have to take me out.

    I want to stay here with you forever.

    I promise I won’t want to leave.

    I want you to give me more children.

    Marry me and bring me to my knees.

    Understand I like to work dear love.

    I do not want to lay around.

    I won’t have you dealing with my madness.

    However crazy it may eventually sound.

    I need an everlasting love in my life.

    Arms around my sweet-smelling neck.

    Holding me and giving me comfort.

    Whenever I feel so very unbearably upset.

    Long arduous days, dark silent nights.

    And intimate rose scented afternoons.

    The longing I have in my heart to love you.

    Could envelop more than just rooms.

    It could captivate hearts and make them swell.

    Feeling the Nigerian rhythm in my body.

    Giving me ginger no doubt you know as well.

    The way you sway has me walking like a zombie.

    Music grabs the element.

    The atmospheric melody.

    Taken into a cosmic dreamland.

    Shall you walk with me?

    I want to take you on a journey.

    I want to be the one.

    To bear you kings a queens.

    Because I know you will never desert me.

  • Kitchen,  Recipes

    Chicken Korma Holiday Dinner

    Chicken Korma with Spiced Cornbread and Buttered Parsley Rice. I have a video I will be uploading to my Youtube Channel here. Happy Holidays. 🎄 My kids for years have always enjoyed having a different ethnicity as far as food for Christmas and Thanksgiving. How wonderful the season.

    Korma is an Indian creamy sauce. And you can make it vegetarian or with chicken. In my kitchen I do whatever I want. Sometimes I might put coriander where others would not.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

    Disclosure: Writing is a form of art to me. Poetry in a sense. And sometimes a more definitive type in itself. That being said, I am a huge fan of Miguel Ruiz’s principle “Don’t take anything personal.” These writings are something I have enveloped myself in since a child. Words have been a part of my life since a child. And as I got older, I appreciated my craft for what it was without giving too much attention to negative scrutiny.

  • Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    A note to any teen

    I’m watching the movie ‘When love kills’ and I have learned so much in life and resonated with a hard life. I encourage you to watch. The trickle effect of secrets and lies is hard. He begins selling her things. She begins to treat other people bad and hurts them. It’s such a sad story. I would love to have a glass of wine and sit and have a chat with you while I watch it. Coming soon in a series. Just watch it for now. Emotional movie.

    As many of us know, growing up being a teen or raising one can be so rewarding. It’s little times like this where I love being able to relish in the love family can give when you are navigating the world. I am so thankful that throughout the abuse I have encountered with my past; that I always had a family member to count on that would be supportive to me.

  • Love Poems,  Writings

    Thank You For Opening Me Up

    *Note: This is a fantasy. About a man I have never been with.

    I say this over and over to myself all the time. “Open Up.” What if there is a man out there that wants to share a night like this with me. But it’s normal. It’s everyday life for us because we feel like we were made for each other. And we were.

    At the time of so many responsibilities in my life, overly conscious about things I might have been dealing with at the time. Overly conscious of the person I was with. Thank you for conversing with me and talking to me about how beautiful you think I am. I noticed how you would watch me get up in the morning, put my makeup on, get dressed for work; and just enjoy the morning with coffee and DMB in the air. You know how I like my mornings to start. You know what I am running from. A past, that in retrospect was dimmed slightly because of my lack of motivation in a particular area and not zoning in on what it was that truly makes me happy. This is one of the things that does. So put this on your list. Draining the water from the tub, I walk into the room and look out the windows that line the bedroom walls. 6 of them. And they all face the field behind the house. And it’s such a beautiful view of the mountains and the snow. I walk in front of you and derobe.

    “You are so beautiful. Sing to me while you dance for me.”

    And I do. I pressed play on some Eric Benet and made sure you were even more in love than you were 5 minutes ago. The look on your face was everything in that moment and then some. As you sat there with your robe open. Necklace hanging on your chest, velvet slippers on, and satin robe; I saw a man I have grown to love so much. And I felt like I saw the twinkle and felt it at the same time in my eyes. That’s how dependent on you telling me how you truly feel, I have become.

    “Come take a shot of Whiskey or Tequila baby girl, I want to see you slam this better than your man’s favorite drink; The Alabama Slammer.”

    Smiling at you with so much more in my heart and soul, I walk crawl to you on the floor.

    “What…”

    I smirked. Kept proceeding to you. Your baby face leading the way…

    You pick me up off the floor, and we are both laughing so hard because I know what you’re about to do. Throwing me on the Lovesac. This big tan massive cushion of love in the corner built for at least 5 people just swallowed me whole.

    “I’m impressed with your strength dear sir.” I say to you.

    “I know you are madame, shall I have this dance?”

    Always silly in fact to the point of gut wrenching humor, we were and very much are. It was mesmerizing the smell of your neck. Our feet moving left to right across the bedroom floor. That unbelievably good smelling Prada cologne that I had bought you for Valentine’s Day. Somewhat of a form in my brain; to buy you cologne on Valentines Day.

    “He may remember me more if I buy him a cologne on Valentine’s Day.”

    As I did. I would buy you a cologne everyday if I could. And if I could have men texting me all the time for one thing, I would love it to be cologne advice. The very infatuation with perfumeries and scents in general has always been something you admired.

    “La la la la la la la la la I love you.” you sing

    I bust out laughing and scream I love you too.

    “Scream again and you get spanked.” you tell me

    “Turn around, and lay down, I want to give you a massage please oh pretty please.” The face to match with crossed eyes.

    “Always.” you say as you laugh.

    This very intense thought of how stressed out I might have been about opening up to you about something that has been on my mind for quite sometime. In no way bothering. Bothering would mean it’s negative. I know I am not perfect, and sit with things in my head 45 times before I say them sometimes and then sometimes it’s too late. As I start to rub your shoulders I think about how I was so close to giving up completely before you decided you wanted to give me a chance. To which I explained it’s not a chance for us to give. That’s the universe. It’s a chance for you to have, from the universe. Even if but for yourself. Without a doubt we all do things to one another that affords us the opportunity to give someone a chance; but I believe we already have/had a chance. And I continue to put that energy into our relationship. I think the other form of thinking is dwelling; and I don’t want to make you feel like anything because of your past. The same respect given to me, I would have not had a safe soft place to land when I needed one. I needed to work at this as much as you just to get here. Humming a song while I massage your lower back.

    “Sit on my back a little lower baby, get the middle of my back. This conditioning is kicking my ass.”

    I oblige. I am thankful for your positivity as a man and belief in me. It seems in life sometimes as people we get to certain points and all we want is someone to come a little closer to us; but not understanding the walk they take to get to us. I am grateful for your path, I just don’t know how to say this.

    “You remember how my friend Jackie and her husband?

    “Yes.”

    “I need to sit and have a chat with her tomorrow, do you mind keeping her husband company while we talk?”

    I am sure it won’t be a problem. I just hadn’t had the chance to talk to Jackie. She needed to be more involved in my life as far as my own day to day struggles and she and her husband have been such a positive, honest, loyal energy in our lives; that I have so much I could use her help on. And my boyfriend is great friends with her husband.

    I was consistently talking to Jackie and it’s great to finally have a friend that is less about complaints, and more about solutions and the power of solving. Problem solved. All the way around. I remember so many of our meetings ended in positivity because of healthy communication and I like the way her husband treats you as a man.

    I cross my eyes and bend my head down staring into his eyes, with the silliest face; I ask:

    “In this evanescent love of ours can we go higher?” Knowing you know what I meant, you asked…

    “To answer your question love, yes, we can go higher. But to go deeper, why did you feel that way to begin with? What made you feel like that? That’s beautiful. We all get along very well together.”

    “Yes! We do!! That’s why I am was so excited to ask. I haven’t necessarily brought it up, but I know it’s an easy conversation to have as females.”

    “We already talked about it, as men. And are in love with the idea.”

    “Good. I know it will happen. I saw the look she gave me and she drank me all the way in.”

    The look was a look of love on his face. It was a commanding effort to capture these moments in time. I was starting to talk about it earlier in front of the mirror, so very nervous while he was in the shower. No sooner than a few seconds into my speech with the hairbrush he said something that made me feel wonderful.

    “If I promised that I would stay with you, like a Notebook; would you open up to me for the rest of your life like one too? I know you may be worried about me going somewhere else, falling in love with someone else, or even becoming someone else; but what if I told you I have never promised someone that I wasn’t going to leave them?”

    Stunned, I stood there.

    Intentions, motive, effort (and the amount thereof), and all inhibitions were pointed in the direction of your end goal being to win and captivate my love. You did.

    “Note to self” is what I say walking into the kitchen. You had fallen asleep and I capture the emotion that you have after reading this. And in all absolute truth; parts of it were written with idealism. And truth (click the link) is a theological argument in some aspects, while the level of pain you could incur from someone can/is measured on a scale.

    Your never-ending faith in the fact that there was always something more on the horizon for us is what made me feel comfortable talking to you. I relished in that. The comfort reminding me much of silk.

    “Let’s make dinner plans, cook, and sit down with a notebook in front of the fire and plan a wonderful surprise evening for them, shall we?”

    “Yes love, we shall.”

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Heartbreak Poems,  Love Poems,  Mom Poems,  Poems,  Writings

    The Very Peace You Seek

    Crazy to see the audacity.

    To disrespect your desire.

    To have involvement.

    In your child’s life unaffected.

    And not want one part of intimacy.

    With anyone else.

    Until you have wholesome attributes.

    Of peace.

    Because of that very ability.

    To turn and flip angles.

    Disturbs the very peace you seek.

    To have.

    It’s that fear.

    Of letting guards down.

  • Writings

    Chocolate Chip Nana Cakes

    I imagine myself cooking for you. After you get out of work at 5-7am. And just imagine… you want something good to eat before you go to the gym. And I want to go with you. But first I want you to eat. An energizing juice that’s made in my juicer. Some hash browns. Applewood Sausage. I’m going to make you a nice celery, citrus, wheatgrass blend. I want you to come back from the gym for a foot rub. But what do you think about these pancakes? I’m thinking I might need to review them for you. A nice plate of these and an old favorite book of mine ‘Blog Inc’ is going to be divine. While I think about my dream restaurant.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

  • Writings

    My Sweet

    Talk to me sweet like you do when I am about to go to sleep. Take me deep into your loving arms and make me whole. I searched long, hard and wide for what I was looking for. Making a route to inhabit the entirety of your heart. I would have captivated you if you had let me. The name by which you call me, I hear. In my dreams; in my heart. I have a way of knowing you are always there, and never turning your back on me. I gave into sleep this time. Thinking that one more ounce of rest would give me every bit of strength I needed to tell you what you mean to me. What you have done for me. How you have cared for me. What you have said about me. How you feel about me. How I feel about you. Thinking in a later sense that I would be quaintly unable to tell you how you feel about me without first seeing what I mean to you through my eyes. Seeing it through my heart. I want you to know everything about me. The way I feel when I am sad. Why so sad? Because you have not been here my whole life to envelop me. And I have been anxiously waiting for you to wrap me in every ounce of love that I deserve. What you deserve. What we deserve.

    It was something about your left hand wrapping around my waist that had me thinking in fairytale words. I felt butterflies. Words of dreams. Had I known any better the dream would have been the realest thing that I had ever seen in my life. Knowing that what I see in the subconscious is your hand on my cheek. Your face against mine. Your nook. Your smell. I could find myself reading my poetry to you while you shave in the morning. Is that weird? That I would sooner dream of something like that before I dreamed of taking advantage of you for what you look like? I would sing for you. Would sing with you.

    I am a heart that forgives itself over and over again. I had made mistakes by this time in my life that I had to retreat and manage. Knowing my plights were not yours; I had to separate myself from how other people would want me to feel about you. And there wasn’t a loss. Because my heart is always open to the idea of you. I said to myself,

    “What is it that you wish more than anything?”

    “A chance.”

    A chance at something I have never had. Imagining to myself that I had just met you; and I felt a way I had never felt about anyone else. There was something magnetic about you. My heart got so used to seeing you smile. My soul got so used to hearing you breathe. My life got so used to having you in it. And where did you go? Why did you go? But what do I know?

    I don’t know how to keep a man

    At least that’s what I think. As you removed your arm from my waist, I began to think about how you would be so satisfied with dreaming about a love that has never been yours. Someone you have never been on a date with. Someone that makes even the worst of days look and seem brighter.

    I am happy to have met you. Happy to have gauged my feelings about who you are as a person well within the constraints of respect. Honor. Valor. I imagined myself tackling the very parts of you that you wanted me to captivate. Your heart. Telling me that I should have more regard for mine. More regard for myself. More feeling for a love of my own.

    I wanted to dance in front of you. Show you a few dips. Throw on some music and imagine I was in a poodle skirt. I was so sure of myself at that time. I was so sure that I could still be thankful for my imagination even if none of it comes true. And if nothing comes of this, just know; this was always the way I really felt about you.

    XOXO, El’Aundra

    Disclosure: Don’t take things personal when I write them.

  • Writings

    I’d rather have a guitar than remember you


    I told myself that the negative sides of myself I cannot forgive. There was greater reason to dive into the dark sides of my earth that combust when they are shaken. I was broken in so many pieces. There is no reason to save what you think you can keep for yourself. There’s nothing here for you to take. You have played so many games. So many angles. So many times. Too much. At once. And albeit the beginning of the end. The archetype of solitudes. I would have rather sat and cried myself to sleep a thousand times than feel how I felt then. I how I wanted myself to not feel. Missing the identity. I used to have of my own. I would have given anything to stand on my own feet and see myself as worth of more than his ideal pawn on a chess board. Tell me you love me and mean it. I beg of you. Making me feel some way about someone I have no desire to feel a way about. Just because you want me to be connected to someone thus does not make them a part of me. Everything about me can be for me on my own. And I have m town identity and should display it as such. But creating a way for someone else to desire to live vicariously through me because you’re too weak to love me in single form only makes me stronger. More separation. More space. And that’s what I need. Space and time. Because there was a point in time where my wounds were not this deep. They would have healed faster. And now that we have sat with open wounds. Corrosive hearts. And damaged souls, we long to point fingers. I long to point to the sky.

    ’Look, a star.’

    The one glimmer of hope I do have. Thank you. While the stars shine I will hum a tune. Figure out my path. Let life run its course. But understanding that a man that has my best interest will get to know me first. He will invest in me. Shall he be the negative energy force that drives a succubus; he shall be banished from my love upon the very realization that my love wasn’t his. Forgiving thyself giving more to the intuitive nature to instincts reach for his own, because you are beyond worthy of having your own. I may run from you. I may cry alone. I may sit in fear. I may not know how to be loved by you any more than you would know how to love me. But I know I have a bay window over the kitchen sink in my brain right now. And I don’t even want to talk about why that makes me think of building my view to be a bit different. A bit more satisfying in the aesthetically pleasing ways only my mind knows..drawing. Drawing instead of drowning. I felt like your heart wasn’t open. And I was drowning. But when I have a bay view with peace I will be ok.

    Jacket: Forever 21–Jeans: Mossimo-Shirt: No Boundaries-Flannel: Forever 21-Belt: Vintage-Scarf: Nine West

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