Black History Culture : Black Females In Porn: Sexual Culture Showing Aggressively Perceptive

Discussion in 'Black History - Culture - Panafricanism' started by BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE, Jan 8, 2014.

  1. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    I never downplay anyone but when i research boredom and how times are applied from the female side of the Black History porn is always left out often spilling over into the realities we all face walking but kept secretly inside. From the clothing she wears in the upperworld to the clothing she wears in the underworld and middle world too is the same. Her mentality is the same...reason why i use to kick it with the black strippers without giving up money (most of the time cause we gotta get paid) is because i wanted to understand why; and they told me over drinks cause they couldn't sober...guess the truth hurts so bad you got to fake pain and feel numb. I look at the recorded shows of the older sistahs to the young ones as ages can be faked on accounts to the pictures also and so you think the information technology is great or a double edge sword? When i see those sistahs, i see emptiness then again a need to be felt and worshiped as a goddess i remember out the Kemet Book of Gods and Goddesses. I been watching and putting one and one together often not saying nothing knowing what be going on behind closed doors before information is shot to me. Either the young ones see her in the older and follow or she just emotionally and spiritually has to be soulfully felt sow forms a mental picture of being supreme and on top by using what she got and did daddy tell her to do it? Or did her mother tell her to do it? I had a homegirl once from new york who is down here in south carolina said her grandmother told her to use what she got and men at nothing but a tool. Now when this sistah told me this while i rendered respect of her words actioned as somebody else self expression, she was darker than me and so beautiful but lost yet in college gutter out still i saw a jewel unpolished and i can't help that as i see through souls...i use to just be myself with her and my former god-children mother until the abuse of using me just woke up within me and even though i knew they would still i gave up the money to get the information still i gave up the respect as her from within imprisoned as Queen still i gave up love like i suppose too regardless even though no love was given back and the sistah had the nerve to lower me into a sexual situation when i bought her bus ticket back to the deep woods here and hotel to wait in since it was raining and full at the bus stop in columbia with people standing outside along with one-time and i just wanted her to be not treated like a Queen but to me she was it regardless even if she didn't know it and i tried to get with her but it didn't work out as usual...it never works out starting from scratch as you have to be money bound so rich and not wealthy but then again the same ballers on top is having the same problems so what is up with that?? So me and the sistah smoked this blunt after i came back from walking about two miles to a convenient store to our get cigarettes and liquor cause she asked for it and thank me for letting her be her as royalty though she didn't word it like that. I knew what the situation was but tried to twist it by staying outside while it slowed up drizzling smoking cigarette after another one sharing the blunt with her before she showered up right? I was recording rhymes on my phone and just talks about life cause i always do that just in case i die hanging with us so called blacks in a situation stuck into the endless, then they can hear my voice and not nobody else theory of who he was you know what i'm saying? Cause people swear they know you.... I knocked on the hotel door and she peeped out the window to let me in. She looked so dayum chocolaty fine i stood in the doorway hypnotized while the door was still open as she was wearing nothing but a white small towel barely bending around her body cause them clothes she had on must have kept all those tight illusive curves in or something and i will never understand the black woman's body...never...it's pretty much unexplainable and will get you fired up to a crisp trying to analyze but still you learn to overstand or get caught up in the moon's ultimate illusion. Her hair was nappy and short though she didn't like it but i love it as it was naturally hers and she would smile i said it cause she knew i was real about myself and not a kissup or get in your koochie type of fellow naw just mellow and cool. Long story short as she laid undressed i turned my back and closed the door while she did her back onto the bed and asked me questions around the bush type of stuff wanting me to look her into her eyes and stuff but i just kept it real cause she didn't understand it wasn't about a sexual experience of feeling empty and wanted of desirous lusts and such and such differing from religious texts but just reality of me from me you know what i'm saying? She didn't like it and often asked if something was wrong with my shift stick and stuff so i just slept on the other bed instead of arguing and giving in to the sex and reason why i bought the hotel room, cigarettes and liquor, blunt off the streets from my brothers hustling to feed they kids and stuff, and her bus ticket whether she could afford it or not, and oh i even bought her a phone card too, was because i understood her situation of temptation of selling herself to get the money in order to go back home for the weekend as she missed the city's bus; she was only going to college full-time but the bus ride from Sumter to Columbia takes a long time plus the city transportation is not even reliable unlike California, VA and DC and even in Europe (others too but too much to name as i've been alot of areas on the real)! I think i even left her with some money but overall i just wanted to make sure she was safe from the time we got out of college that day to the late evening within the room to the bus stop like a guardian angel with nothing to lose cause i didn't need the money at that time and plus i had nothing to do anyway but kick it with myself or the homies out here smoking blunts trying to reach them with business but everytime they miss the lesson. She woke me up and we walked to the greyhound bus as she missed the early one from the city's bus line so she had to catch a greyhound one. I stood there with her and until she got on departing our ways with a hug and she felt good to give a little bit love she had from inside her heart cause i know she didn't trust me as a black male regardless after telling me all that about her and her family...that's why i told her to wake me up even though i trusted into my sleep to wake up or not and i know it sounds hopeless cause life as a black man is when in search for a reason why life gotta be like this and like everybody acts like it don't exist stuck in a fantasy or something. Everybody at the greyhound asked was she my woman and said naw she was just a Queen i knew....

    So why sistahs be on the porn sites flossing they bodies? Money, sex and drugs as tools for survival and some do it for fun, greed and power. So i never downplay any sistah from the youngest to the oldest whether they trying to prove a point on the under to the world outside or to themselves from within i still wonder...some have no choice as they are forced into by way of slavery of a man and sometimes another woman. So when you look at it our black history culture is really untrue and constantly the past remixed as the present black historical culture is us in the flesh ashamed of the underworld as the underworld is taught by the upperworld and middle too...everybody is accounted for...though we have no more black history as a culture so we go back to the ancient searching for answers and when a black man or woman gets in the picture unreachable when put them on a pedestal out of sheer desperation of hope to be felt accepted through them and when they disappear...so do we. The truth is like a guilty verdict upon the innocence of hesitation within us all not doing enough to change ourselves while the underworld essence of existence increase right underneath our noses and sometime without regard and don't care cause that's my daughter motto and that's my son motto feeling emotionally like a pride of fierceness who are all ignorant to the fact and truths that we are all black historical and hertorical culture interdependent whether you like it or not...hate yourself deeply or clique up relentlessly separating ultimately as individualism liking this elder and following this ancestor or i relate better to her or i am bound to him more....as of current i alone survive the madness feeling like the winds trying to escape the vain course of entrapment knowing there is freedom and peace for myself but with enough force comes in like a windstream at sixty miles an hour changing the course of everything and even forming as a tornado or maybe clicking up with water to form hurricane or maybe backdraft out with fire and flaming on like a forest fire but never will i be entrapped into earth so deeply where no love is at or unable to be shown unless...unless i am still existing within every crevice cause believe it or not earth can be dried up as everything exist within everything so everybody walking and talking is black chronological culture from land to land knowingly or unknowningly. Peace and oh...more young sistahs and brothas are digging porn or sexual explicit openness everyday and night to include more mothers and grandmothers from the black culture. I wish i was blind sometimes as they who are blind are truly blessed to be...but let me just be me and that is self-mastery of mind surviving the world alone.

    (Diary of a Black Man: Just An Illusion) Copyright 2014
     
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