P. P. P. Poker Face. P. P. P. Poker Face.
I don’t have one.
I have never had one.
I hope to never have one.
If you want to know how I feel, look at my eyes… they tell you more than my mouth possibly could. Whether this is right, wrong, or indifferent, it’s true.
The twist to this is my ability to be wildly manipulative, however, even in the moments of my life where I have been manipulative, there are ounces of truth that I grasp on to in the midst of those moments.
I have recently stared people in the face, our eyes in an old western showdown and said things like, “you can trust me” and “I will protect you”… and I mean them. It is not an ounce of truth that I am holding on to in order to say these words, they are true words… and the receiver[s] of these words know they’re true because my eyes say so.
If you ever want to know what I am thinking, either ask me, or let my eyes tell you… because they will.
There are few words that are able to describe my life, but if I had to choose a couple they would be: FREE[DOM]. LIBERATION. INTEGRITY.
I am the best version of me there has ever been, but I am not the best version of me there will ever be.
This is an excerpt from Mike Paschall’s blog. Mike is a man I have never had the privilege of meeting in real life, however, he is extremely influential within the community of people I life with… Men like him are always worth looking into in hopes to find ‘that thing’ that draws people to them. The following is an excerpt from his post entitled: Hope Deferred Sick Heart
All of my daughters (natural and spiritual) provide the proper motivation and set the standards that demand a boy to grow up into the full stature of manhood: Young warriors, princes and lovers of honor and selfless sacrifice…
…Too many young women, married and single, are waiting for the man they’ve said “yes” to, to become the man that they thought they said, “yes” to. Desperate and immature men make promises they cannot keep or have no intention of honoring. They live for the moment, regardless of what it costs them later. Hope deferred makes the heart sick. Every woman has hope that her guy will be different from the rest. She has a violent hunger for strength and protection without bargaining arrangements. They crave the care of an internal strength that produces respect and churns their love. A woman, who does not respect her man, is a heart-sick woman! Too many of God’s daughters are waiting for the little boy inside of their guy to diminish and the real man to manifest. The word deferred is mâshak, maw-shak´. Our vernacular would best describe it as the person who is dragging their feet, shuffling along and basically wasting time. At the fireplace, we might need to consider the possibility that it is time to grow up and put away the toys of self-centered pleasure. It could be, that it is time to stop dragging the baggage of our youthful past, into the serious opportunities of the present. Sir, she is waiting on you.