On “Keeping it Real”

Time for some real talk before the week ends.

I am sitting here getting some work done before the sun sets and a thought came to me. It’s a thought I’ve thought on many times before and that I voice with my husband many times over, though I’ve never said much of it publicly. The thought is in keeping it real. I don’t like the term and frankly, the fact it has become a catchphrase annoys me. I understand what is meant by it. I know how important it is to be real and to “tell it how it is.” I understand no one should ever water themselves down and more, no one should ever sacrifice their integrity for the sake of being “Liked.” That’s not the part that annoys me. What annoys me is when we use this term to assume things about people that are not true, we perceive wrongly and our discernment is off. Why is this? Because “Real” is different for each individual but we act as if it means the same for everyone.

Just because I limit my profanity, read the Bible, encourage people and don’t say the first thing that comes to my mind doesn’t make me fake, for instance. This is who I am and these are things I do even when no one is looking. I am not perfect just a little boring. I like to read all day, spend time with my family, write, laugh and drink wine. That’s literally it as anyone who knows me and has been around me more than 5 minutes could testify to. No one is worth me getting out of character for so I don’t try to “fit in” by being unfiltered. That would be fake of me.

Another example is on telling the truth. I do understand the realness that deals with being open and frank about things. I encourage it because it’s needed. For example, women, don’t get with a man just because the sex is good.

That’s a form of keeping it real or telling it like it is because you are telling the truth. But, this doesn’t always mean the person is being real either. I’ve spent years around people who were direct, forthcoming, and to the point but were still phony. Not because I think they should tell all their business or because the things they said weren’t true but because they were not being a real reflection of who they truly are.

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My point is what’s real for you isn’t necessarily real for someone else. You may be funny, loud, quiet, outspoken, reserved, or direct. My blog has a serious feel to it because that’s my persona. I’m a serious person. I expect your blog to reflect your persona. If you’re funny, be funny. If you’re truthful like in our example, if you tell people how it is, no filter, be that. The point is, people don’t have to act like you or do what you do to be authentic. They may post a lot or post a little but that doesn’t mean they are trying to get something out of you. They may tweet a lot or post on Facebook or IG a lot, that doesn’t mean they are seeking attention. Maybe they are just “doing them.” Maybe they actually enjoy blogging. Maybe they enjoy posting. Perhaps it’s fun to them. Maybe the standards and limitations you apply to your own space don’t apply to them. Maybe, just maybe, this is who they are. Remember this the next time you judge.

 

Enjoy your weekend people.

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How did I change clothes so quickly? Tee hee.

 

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These Good People

I will tell you of these good people

A scroll of courtesy on their tongues

Neatly wrapped in rainbows

And angel’s wings

The finest hello

And thank you

And good morning, please

We are telecommunicators

In front of computer screens

With scripts

And sayings

And clichés

That ring sunshine

Like a glass of sweet summer breeze

Trapped in cold winter bottles

Set free

But hurricanes do happen

And thunderstorms will sometimes fall into your lap

You may one day trip over someone’s mistake

Find typos in their smile

Cracks in their armor

Leaks in their wine-skins

And I promise you that these people

Will backspace their lines

Tighten up their scripts

2nd draft their good mornings

Because the sun didn’t shine on you today

One mistake

One mishap

One earthquake

And I promise you

That they will pick out their courtesy from your face

Peel back the savior

Their “how are you?” left in your smile

Pull back the Hero once carved into their chest

That moment they cared more about you

Than they cared about self

But one mistake

And they’ll drop their cape

At the foot of your tragedy

I promise you

That the levees of trust

Will break

And Crack

And leak with suspicion

From the pores of their skins

You’ll smell the stench

Of give up

On their breaths

The sour taste of newborn behind their ears

The fabricated persona

Tattooed on top their tongues

I warn you

Whilst bathing in the wake of your passion

Whilst being kissed by white paper

Do not forget

That these people are not your friends

And will turn their backs

When you need them most

Because in the age of technology

Most people’s thoughts are not theirs

And their courtesies are pre-written

Hearts plagiarized

A routine kindness

From so called good people

Who forgot to mention that angels

Are not always good

So paper wings will just have to do

A standard hello

Like the signature on an email

And they have convinced themselves

That this

Is

Love

Dear Deception,

You try to hide, but I know you’re there. I can hear it when they walk, and smell it in their smiles. The truth is that you inebriate them with lies. Overflowing their very presence like air under pressure. Shame that some of them can’t even stand up straight, staggering through social media unaware that their ignorance is showing. You have taught them to expose their nakedness. Now their heart is blackened with the scars of falsehood, and their minds poisoned with comfort. Sometimes they are even unaware of the stench they carry like walking viruses and destructive pestilence. They sit among graves and befriend the first corpse they see smiling. You think you know wisdom, but foolishness is bathed in your shadow, and kindness is a game you play on the minds of the weak; snickering behind the concocted words of flattery and the secret winking you perform under the mask you wear. You have even fallen prey to your own fabricated illusions. Casting manipulating spells on the unknown, yet you wrap yourself in white and wear a silver wig. Indeed you are deception, a lie that is made to look like the truth.

The Faceless Internet

turtleneck_by_faceless_monster-d5l2jwlIf I could go back in time to visit my great great great grandmother, she’d probably not believe me if I told her about this world; if I told her about the people walking around with no face. Except they do not exactly walk either. They glide instead on finger toes and eyeballs. Here skin meets electricity and together they blend their energies into the production of a being; a something with a name and a picture for a face. My grandmother would probably ask the obvious, “How do we know that’s truly them?”

“Well, Granny that’s the point, we don’t.”

These are faceless internet people. They create careers out of dot-coms, and download personalities they think will fit the World Wide Web. The most courageous, most bold beings I’ve ever seen behind Photoshopped Gravatars and surrogate heads. You see the Internets a place where flies are dragons and little blind mice are soldiers. Be who you wanna be and say what you will because no one will ever discover your venom to be nothing more than a glass spine. They don’t really have mouths anyway. Just faceless internet people walking around on keyboards with their fingers, pretending to be people.