Posts Tagged ‘girl’

Before we start tonight, I want to spend a few minutes and say thank you. John, thank you for caring about me. You texted me last night and told me how awesome I was. Thank you for sharing about your day, sorry that your day wasn’t that great. You deserve the best. You deserve to be happy and have amazing days. I am glad to hear that you wait for my posts, you have helped me decide that I want to continue writing. Thank you! You rock, I love you!

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She is gone.
When my mother left, it hurt me more than I knew. She walked out the door and walked out into the night air. She was gone and I was without a mother. I was without someone that I trusted my life with, she was gone. She didn’t care that I was hurting, she had things to do and I wasn’t a part of her plans. It took many years for me to find a way to cope with her absence, but this type of coping may have led me through more walls than doors. The way that I have coped with her being gone is being a comical jerk, someone that has to make jokes to hide that he is actually hurt.
In high school, I use to make fun of my mother, and I would laugh along with all of my friends. They didn’t know that I was actually broken, but I never wanted them to know that. It was a sign of weakness to show that I was vulnerable, so I put up all of these walls to make sure no one saw that I was hurt. I hid behind my humor and everyone fell for it. This was great! I was able to convince myself that I was okay with not having my mother. This was great until it began to be a bigger part of me. I began to joke about everything, until nothing was serious to me. This did change when I started to go to church. Church was the only time that I would actually let my emotions flow. Talking to God was the best feeling. Even if he didn’t say anything to me, I knew (in my heart) that he was listening to me. I was able to finally cry without being afraid of someone laughing at me.
I use to cry a lot at church. I would lay on my face and just bawl. Sometimes, I didn’t even know why I was crying, but it felt so good, so I never questioned it. There was a service about mothers, and I remember sinking into my seat and bawling. I cried the whole sermon and more. I was called to the front to talk to the pastors after the sermon and they hugged me. I don’t know why, but it actually felt like my mother was hugging me. Great, things are good now, right? I was able to get back to feeling, I was able to cry again, I was no longer scared to let my emotions out, correct? Yeah, NO! It lasted for a while, but nothing stayed that good for long.
I did say that it lasted for a while, right? I was able to let my emotions out for a good amount of time, but then something happened. I was no longer able to feel. My emotions were shut off and I couldn’t feel inside my heart. I was becoming cold and angry, again. Church just wasn’t the same, anymore. I was drifting away from God and I didn’t know what I was doing wrong. I thought going to church more would help. The more that I went, though, the more that I felt the pain grow. Even if the sermon was the most touching, I was unable to go to that place, the place where my emotions could be freed. I needed serious help, my walls were being built again, the same walls my mother forced me to build years before. This is when I began to push people away.
I was able to find my emotions, again. They were found in a girl. This girl was standing twenty feet from me, my heart felt alive again. The next couple months were the best in my life. She taught me what it felt like to care. She taught me why it’s okay to let my emotions out. I was told that emotions were never meant to stay within, because they are meant to be carried by two, not by one. This shook me as I opened up, something that I should have never done. She broke my heart a month later. She allowed her sister to dictate who she was allowed to talk to. Again, the wall went up. This time, it stayed.
I moved away the next summer. I was chasing something, a feeling that I once felt. There was a Church that I thought would help me, but it came to pass. When I got there, it wasn’t the same. This is when I realized that my walk with Christ was no longer the same. I tried to get back to the way that I use to feel, but nothing would work. I only stayed a semester, then moved back home.
Nothing was the same when I got back, though. People moved on and plans changed. It was like I was in a whole new place, with people that I didn’t know. I guess I was hurt that no one seemed to care that I was back. They were okay without me. I told myself that it was a lie, but I never could seem to convince myself. This is when I met my wife, Ariel. She gave me happiness, but something was still missing. The piece that will always be missing. When my mother left, she took something from me that I didn’t know. She took my emotions. I haven’t felt truly sad about something in over 5 years. I stopped caring when I got back from college, when I saw that everyone moved on, When I realized that everyone moved on like my mother. I try to find a way to break down this wall, but the tools are not strong enough. They are broke under the pressure of all my DAMN baggage, I feel like I will never be okay. I miss her! I wish that I could have a heart to heart conversation with my mother. I want to ask her what she was thinking, why she left us, why couldn’t she just be a GODDAMN GOOD PARENT!! But I will never know. She will always have an excuse, I just wish I meant more to her, meant enough for her to drop her act and tell me why she left me. She left too soon.

Dear Mom,
I sit here, waiting for you to walk in those doors. I waited for you to come back for years, but you never came back. You had better things to do, but we weren’t it, were we? Why did you leave me, why did you leave me with these questions? I deserve these answers, dammit! I have giving you the power for so many years, hoping that you would just tell me why I wasn’t good enough!!!!! I want the power back, but you forced these walls up and I cant break them down. I want to take the wall down, but I cant without knowing how you could leave me as a child. How could you leave me at Ten and never even check up on me. I spent years trying to find you, but when I found you, you were full of excuses. You hurt me more than anything. But my biggest question is; why is it that you hurt me so much, but I still want you to hug me and tell me that you love me. Mom, I wish you were better. I wish you weren’t gone. 
Sincerely yours,
A BROKEN CHILD.

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Impromtdude @ Facebook.com/impromtdude

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I have been thinking back to my college days a lot lately, which is when I decided to come back home to move in a different direction. I was studying pastoral studies in Kansas City, and I couldn’t have been happier, well for the first few months. It didn’t last though, I felt that I was wasting much needed time doing something, I no longer wanted to do. I ran out of the ministry juice, and no longer wanted to study religion. This was after a dream, that woke me up in the middle of the night, and kept me up the whole night. The dream was more a path that I knew I wanted to take, but my fear of failure was outweighing my courage of succeeding.

I wanted to come back home to study locally. This was forced also by not finding a solid job, that wouldn’t keep me from college for a semester. In the dream, I saw myself finishing my first novel, and becoming a world-known writer. I was excited instantly about becoming a professional writer, that the dean-of-students offer wasn’t enough to keep me around. Even though they gave me a semester free, and helped with my rent, I no longer wanted to be there. I left during a Sunday service, and packed up my things. I came back home to Illinois, without telling anyone there. I know it was wrong to do so, with everything they did for me but it was now-or-never, or so I thought.

When I got back to Illinois, I got lazy. I didn’t try to get a job, I didn’t care about the same things as before. I didn’t want to write anymore. I felt like I was wasting my time doing nothing, so I planned to attend another seminary, in order to show those around me, that I didn’t come back to lay around. I never got into the seminary, due to the money issues I was experiencing. But this would change shortly, when I met my wife.

My wife wanted me to follow my true dream, which was to become a writer. She pushed me to go back to college, and get my degree in journalism. But when I showed interest, my job began to want me to pull more hours. With the more hours that I was getting, the less the chance became, that I was able to go to college. This is when I decided that I was going to try becoming published without a degree. This is nearly an impossible task, but where there is a will there is a way. Now that I have started my portfolio, I know the things that need to be done in order to get my name out there. This could lead me to a new location on the map, yes I am talking about moving.

I have started to promote through some amazing items, which I blogged slightly about, last night. But the reality is, sometimes you need to move to become someone in this industry. Springfield might not be the best place for me to try and grow, but at the same time it might be the best place. The question is though; Could I move if it came to it?

The answer is “Yes.” As a writer, I see that my future could cause me to go to another city, state, or country. This is any job, you have to be ready to relocate, and I am. It would be hard, but how could I say that I want to grow but not take the steps that it takes to do so? I can’t, that’s why it is important to ready your heart to do the hardest things in life, no matter the cost.

If you hold back, because of fear, you could miss an opportunity of a lifetime, I will not though.
I have been taking the steps that I need to, and I have seen that it has helped. But time will tell if the steps I have taken will be enough. I pray they are, but no one knows what God has in store, so I give him control, and can only pray that I don’t get in the way!

This was an old post that I thought someone needed to hear! 

The new hair

Posted: July 11, 2016 in Uncategorized
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   I am feeling very fresh. Why? Well I’m glad you asked, it’s all because of my brand new hair cut! Before I had long shaggy, heavy hair, but now I have short, light, and cool hair. I haven’t had short hair in almost a year, and it’s been killing me. My hair has been getting in my eyes, falling on my shoulders, making my face itch, and making it feel like something on me, but now I don’t have to worry about that. I will now have no worry at work, because my hair’s too short to fall into food, and I won’t have to worry about my face itching during an order. But the best part of the whole thing, is the fact that I am the one who cut it.

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    I am very anal with haircuts, and will never step into a barber shop. I use to have my dad cut it, but I have grown out of his house, and now I am on my own. Also, he likes to cut my hair super short, but I no longer like having super short hair. When I moved out of his house, I tried having someone cut my hair, but they made it look like waves. I was pissed when I saw the results, so after I fixed it, I went out and bought my own clippers. Since then, I have been cutting my own hair. That way, if I mess up, I can’t blame it on anyone else and I know me better than anyone else.

    But this wasn’t always the same Blake. This Blake did like getting his hair cut, and allowed others to cut it, way back when. I was young, I was dumb, and I didn’t know what hair styles there were, but I knew that my dad always gave me a “flattop.” My dad offered to take me to the barber with him. I was young, so I told him that I would. I wasn’t planning on getting a haircut, nor did I want one. I was okay with my dad cutting my hair. I told him this, and he agreed. But after a hour of waiting in the barber shop, I was sold into getting a haircut. The barber asked “what would you want today?” I told him that I wanted a ‘flattop’ he said “okay.” After twenty minutes of this barber messing with my hair, he turned me around. My eyes were burning from the sight of this hairmess.

The flattop was too long, it didn’t seem that he cut anything off, I asked for him to cut more. He huffed and cut a little off, still not even close to what I wanted, but I knew he wasn’t going to keep cutting, so I said okay and got up. The bill was $15. $15!!!!! Are you serious! That’s a crap load of money for a shit job. I didn’t even get what I wanted. Since that day I haven’t stepped into a barber chair, I won’t either. If I’m going to pay someone that much, why not just buy the crap myself?
    That experience traumatized me, forever. I don’t want anyone touching my hair. I love every hair on my head, so why would I allow others to ruin my beauty? I say f$#k them, I’ll just do it myself. Though, I know there are great barbers, I still don’t want to have someone else to accidentally screw it up. So as you see, I cut it myself!

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On other hand, I had something come in the mail, yesterday. I have been shopping on ‘wish’ and recently bought a cute little gift. If you know me, you know I like to golf. Well, I found tees that meet my personality perfect.

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  Yes they are nude girl golfing tees, but they only cost me $1, so who is the real winner. Also, I can now “smash” a girl, and now get into trouble!

Impromtdude

Dear potential haters,

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I know that there will be haters, or people that don’t understand my material. Maybe some of them will be right, maybe their reasons will be solid, but they will still be haters to me. Or maybe the reasons will be complete non-sense. There will be people that will get offended by something you say, even if it isn’t something you meant to be offensive. This is the life of an artist. This world is full of people who get offended over bathrooms, so I have to ready myself to be hated, and when I get my first hater, this is what I want to say to them;

Dear hater,
    I see that you attempt to bring me down to your level, but you can’t knock me off my mountain. I have been sitting here for years, I have a house here; I am planted into the ground here. You will need to do something no one has ever done, remove me from my rock. This will never happen, because I have trained for you. I have spent years preparing for you. You are two steps behind, and you will not gain ground, you simply can’t beat me at this game. You can try, but be ready to fall down, be prepared to fail. I hope you do, that battle would be fun. I can’t wait for you to come onto my court, be prepared to have your ankles snapped. I will Crossover on you, like Steve Nash, and leave you in the dust.

I am smarter than you, I spend more time thinking about this. You think that I would ever put my best against you? No, I will no waste that much time. Getting you to shut up isn’t worth my stress, not when I am smarter and have something more important, than a fight with you. I have my career in front of me, and I will not allow someone, as plain as you, to effect me. Your insults don’t hurt me, you can say what you want. You can go onto my page, and leave a thousand negative comments. I will leave them for motivation. I will leave them and write about how dumb you are, and guess what? I will then get views from your insults. Will that kill you? To know you are a part of my success? I surely hope so. I hope you see my success and it drives you insane. But mostly, I pray for you.

I don’t want to be the hateful kind, so I will pray for you. I want to pray that God gives you a good life. But don’t think my kindness will continue if you come against me, again, the same result will occur. You can’t beat me. My whole heart is in this, and I cant stop. You might write better than me, or you might have better ideas. But I have a heart that cannot be stopped. There is nothing that can stop me, if I stopped writing, I would die. I wouldn’t be able to move day-to-day without writing. I have more to lose. Thank you for hating. Don’t forget to get a beverage, because you will be waiting for a long time, if you think you are going to effect me. Peace out haters!

Impromtdude @ Facebook.com/impromtdude

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I wanted to marry my wife since the day I saw her, but I felt it was too early to ask her. I waited for 9-months, until I would pop the question. This was to ensure that we were meant to be, but also to make sure we knew what we were getting ourselves into. I can be annoying, so I wanted to give the time to run away. But she never ran away, which showed me that she was the one. She loved me for who I was, including my annoyance.

The day that we got engaged, I had no ring. I had planned to ask her on her birthday, but it ended with me purposing a month early. We just got a bad phone call, something was wrong with our health. She was crying on the phone, I saw that she was scared. Her fear wasn’t for herself though, she felt that with the new information, I would surely leave her. She thought that I couldn’t love someone with what she had, but that never mattered to me, I loved her for her, not because of her health. In order to show her, I wasn’t leaving, I decided to pull the plug on the birthday gift, and that day I asked her to marry me. Of course, she said ‘yes.’ We kissed, and went to tell her parents. I didn’t need to whoo her with fancy words, or buy her a thousand dollar ring. She loved the proposal because it came from my heart, not from my pocket.

Today, I was reading “Weird and wacky facts” and I fell onto something that I found amazing. In Luxembourg, Europe, they celebrate “Bretzelsonndeg”. This is where the men would make beautiful cakes that were in a shape of a pretzel, then on the 4th Sunday of lent, they would walk up to their dream girl, and give it to them. This was a sign that they wanted to take the next step, eventually leading to marriage. The pretzel shape treat was indicating that they would “tie the knot” in the future.

The girl would then either agree or disagree to his proposal. If she decided to continue the relationship, she would get a decorated egg and give it to the boy, on Easter Sunday. After she gives the gentleman the egg, they would then walk in the park. They would continue their relationship, and would usually get married after a short bit.

I find that the most simple things in life are the most amazing. Men in Europe don’t have to pay for a girls attention, he simply shows interest and she gets to decide if she wants him, or not. Relationships have become too complicated, when love is suppose to be simple.

If we could take out the materialistic part of all relationships, maybe then we would understand that love doesn’t need to be bought, but it only needs to be earned. I wish that one day, America, could adapt Europe’s traditions, and bring romance back into relationships.

Impromtdude @ Facebook.com/impromtdude

Today will be like the 4th flashback since I started this amazing journey of posting 642 days in a row. This challenge has taught me so much and soon it will be hitting new heights. But as of right now lets focus on the smaller details, being audience building. When I saw this blog will hit new heights that’s because, I will be adding 4 new segments when I see a longer crowd watching. The type of segments will be: Blake’s horrid drawing class, Vlogs, Random post Saturday, and reviews of stupid things. So help me get more of an audience.
But this is actually the post that started this channel. This is the reason I called this Impromtdude. I wanted this whole page to be random, and a page that you couldn’t expect anything! I think we have done just that! So enjoy my first post as Impromtdude, “Armed and Dangerous.”

I am sitting there, at the bank trying to get my check cashed. I will admit I’m not in the best of moods. My boss is a major jerk, he only thinks about the outcome of his employees action, though he is the one that is dragging this company into the ground. Does he care? possibly not. He only cares if he is getting paid, which he is! He is getting paid triple what we make for doing nothing, but griping and demoting his best employee.

Yes I am that guy!

He demoted me today, from Assistant manager to a machine operator! I use to actually call in truck to order metals, now I am the slave that puts the metal on the line!

He had no reason to demote me, well his reason was that was caught sneaking breaks and not coming back to work on time! I have never actually left for my lunch. Its nearly impossible since I have taking the bus for the last 15 years that I worked there.

“Next” Finally its my time to cash my low check and get back to my bachelor pack, where I will sit on my couch with a bag of chips and a few open cans of soda. At the end of the night I will look at myself in the mirror and cry, but I will a year older tomorrow so I guess that’s a plus?

“I need to cash this piece of trash” I snapped. The teller lifted her eye brows, “Sir, are you okay?” Deep inside I wanted to scream how I actually felt, but that would cause more problems and get my butt sent to the “house” since I was there last week, I will pass on going back! “Yes, sorry just a bad day, couldn’t get much worse!” Well I thought

“Get Down Now!!!” Three bullets left a hand gun and ended in the ceiling. “I will kill anyone who moves” I dropped to the ground which most did, especially the tellers, its like the knew that the robber was coming in.

“Screw you” A young man said as he ran towards the door. BAM!!! He flopped to the ground after being shot in the head. “Any one else want to try to be a hero?” No one replied.

The tall African American came over to me, “Get up, dirtbag!” I laughed like an idiot. He got mad, and hit me. He shouldn’t of done that!

A left hook to the eye brow caught him off guard. My strongest hit couldn’t knock him back though, I knew I was in trouble.

He quickly took a shot to my gut with his fist, leaving me without air to breathe. I fell to the ground holding my gut. He got on top of me and began to punch me harder and harder. My eyesight got darker and darker, I felt blood gushing out of my eyes, if someone didn’t help I would be dead in seconds; I guaranteed.

The robber took his hands and placed them on my neck. I could feel my life being sucked out of my frame. My soul had finally left my body. My eyesight went black, but I saw a light. It was beautiful, my grandma was standing there with open arms.

She told me to hold on and to live again, as she spoke those words I heard something. It sounded like a bomb had went off.

I lifted up my eyes, though I couldn’t see much, I knew I was back in the bank.

The robber had been shot in the head by a brave young woman.

Instead of helping me up though, she laughed saying “Daddy said your fired” Bam. The last thing I saw was a flash.