Who you talking to???

"I liked it better when the 'Net was still a novelty, cause now people who ain't found themselves get an outlet, yet don't know how they sound themselves. They like me better when I'm silent and don't have an opinion, pretending to blend in like I'm a minion" -Joe Budden; Rapper


​Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. Snapchat. Tinder. Tumblr. Periscope. These are the most dominant social networking sites in today’s society! Millions upon millions of users simultaneously are glued to these sites/apps every millisecond of of every minute of every hour of the twenty-four hours that we are privileged to. "Pulls down to refresh phone" Daily people log on to bounce thought after thought off of stranger and friend alike! I’m sure there are more sites that I’m forgetting but, as the rapper Wale famously named one of his mixtapes, it’s just More About Nothing! Not to be misunderstood, I’m not anti social media. I’m actually a very avid user myself! I just really pay attention to the trend of where it is going, and that trend is what scares me! And there’s not much that scares me​

​In an era of mass information consumption and networking people are talking to each other less than ever. Literally and metaphorically, everything is about doing the least as possible to get the point across. Emojis, acronyms, and 140 character tweets are engineering a social consciousness that being able to thoroughly express yourself is no longer a necessity! Everything is abbreviated. Everything is aggressive. And last but not least, everything is outrage! Whether it’s a disgruntled lover passive aggressively "subtweeting" venting on the timeline instead of having a direct conversation with their mate about their feelings, an inability for the majority of society to respectfully disagree with each other, and how aggressively and abrasively the internet has become as a warzone to hurl insults at people with no recourse.

​“I’m from the 80’s”, late 80’s but 80’s nonetheless, and my generation is the middle ground now. By middle ground I mean, we’re the last generation that was pre- internet but also are naturally affluent in the life of the internet because we have been here and been in tuned with it since it’s inception. This lends to varied perspectives. First, for more perspective, I personally think generations are typically four year blocks. From my scattered unconscious and undocumented research, experiences are typically based on who you were in high school with. Of course there’s a gap between the experiences of a senior and a freshman but that’s the smallest consistent block I’ve noticed so I’m running with that. Back to the topic. My generation is the middle ground, so I’ve seen how people, myself included, communicated with each other pre internet and how it has grown over the years. Modern day communication is more texting than calling. More memes than letters. More emojis even… than words! Everything about communication has been about getting the message across the quickest, not the best. Not the most thorough. Just the quickest. Very cool example of this is the Coach K’s (Duke University basketball coach) commercial where he tells his son to relay a message to former Duke player, Justise Winslow, and his son takes his words and relays them in emojis. No words used. Another example of this would be memes. If you’re out of the loop, google the word “memes” prefaced by any emotion you want and watch the plethora of memes, which are pictures with short captions that are intended to quickly display sentiment, pop up as a result of your search. A lot of times when a girlfriend has gotten her feelings hurt by her boyfriend, don’t get me wrong men do it too, you’ll see her post memes on one or all of the before mentioned apps with captions like “Never give another man a chance to make your woman smile” accompanied by a beautiful woman looking sad. Or if a man thinks his girlfriend should be doing certain duties that she’s not, he may post a meme with a caption like “A real Queen knows how to treat her King” or something overtly misogynistic with a picture of a man holding money or wearing a lot of jewelry. Or a woman performing a sexual or "domestic" act. Disappointment not being the only sentiment memes are used to display but it’s definitely one of the most used. Anything from #RelationshipGoals to #BodyGoals or just pure comedy and insult can be and more times than not are used… instead of words. This also showcases another factor in this which is, now more than ever, people don’t mind putting their personal life on full display for the world to see. People have also gotten into the habit of even when they use their words, they don’t calibrate their aim. This is commonly known as a subtweet. This is when I have a problem with Jamie because he owes me money, it’s past the return date he said he would return it, and he hasn’t called to make the exchange or ask for an extension but instead of contacting Jamie indirectly I tweet “Don’t you hate when people owe you money and you don’t hear from them” or “I promise I’m not helping people anymore”. All the while I know that Jamie is one of my “followers” on these sites and he will almost surely see these post and know I’m talking about him. Which, warranted or not, will only make the issue bigger because no one wants to be sucker punched. This happens all day up and down timelines back and forth until boiling points are reached and two parties are fed up with being indirect or the timeline has figured out the culprit so now guns are blazing directly. But why not tell your boyfriend or girlfriend what’s on your mind? Why not directly address situations amongst friends, or enemies for that matter? How have the limitations of a tweet that is restricted to 140 characters (I’m currently at 4,441 in this piece) and emojis devalued the usage and importance of the English language affected literacy? What happens when the meme is misinterpreted?

​Secondly, when did having an difference of opinion become the mark of the beast? Who’s the best rapper, Jay-z or Young thug? Who’s the better basketball player Jordan or LeBron? If I say Jay-z and you say Nas, is that not ok? If Jay Z drops an album today, and I love it but majority of the people on twitter think Jay Z is old and out of touch does that make me old and out of touch or an idiot or just too biased or was I blessed with my own ears and my own mind? I regularly say Groupthink is the worst epidemic to hit America in my natural life. Groupthink is when people form their opinions, solely or close to it, off of popular opinion? A product of groupthink becoming so prevalent is that when a person that doesn’t aspire to it contests a popular opinion, they’re attacked or dismissed from that moment on. I personally don’t want to live in a world where everyone wants to agree more than they want to think.  I also don’t want to live in a country where you’re exiled because you don’t agree with everything status quo. An example of this is the current case of Bill Cosby, which up until recently have only played out in the court of public opinion. I’m not here to argue guilt or innocence, that’s not my place, my argument is people reserve the right to disagree on it. People also reserve the right to say "I need more information". There’s people who are more educated on the evidence that has been presented who will attack anyone that doesn’t automatically presume Bill Cosby is a rapist. Because the general consensus is, "Bill Cosby is guilty because there’s no way this many women are lying on him." Which very well could be true, but one day watching my timeline and anybody who disagreed with that rhetoric or dared to say “let’s wait until we hear both sides” was immediately attacked or ostracized.  I used this example because of it’s sensitivity. Just follow me.

​This leads into my third gripe, which is, the internet has taken bullying to all time high levels. People that disagree, people that produce content, or just people who challenge a point of view are often, very often, insulted beyond belief online. Have you ever looked in the comment section of any post of content? People have taken the general anonymity of the internet to say the worst things they can think of to people. About people. About people’s work. And about people’s kids. It opens the window to how much unprovoked hate there is that’s being concealed until an outlet lends way to express it. It’s alarming. What’s more alarming is the infatuation that “we” have come to have with seeing and commenting on hardships. How in moments of mistakes or misfortune our society feeds off it. Blogsites, gossip sites, and the “ordinary joe” alike take to keyboards hourly to not only document missteps but to vilify and persecute people. As much as we like to conveniently attempt to forget celebrities are still people, that’s what they are, people! For no reason at all we engage in dialogue completely aimed at inflicting pain or exciting a negative reaction. This practice has been coined as “trolling”. The aforementioned rapper Wale, is a consistent victim of this. Deemed emotional, and living in that reality willingly, Wale has become a target. Not because he wishes ill will on people or because he’s attacking people but simply because they know he, being his “emotional” self, will react! So daily people contemplate the most demeaning, harsh, and provocative insult they can say to him about his appearance or music or prior actions in hopes of getting him to simply respond. This “trolling” practice isn’t limited to Wale or even to celebrities but it’s just a very well known example of a sadistic trend. It’s alarming that this is how we are communicating with each other more and more!

​So to say all of this is unnerving is a bit of an understatement. I worry about how common good will being an endangered concept amongst such a beautiful concoction of people that is the United States. I worry that even though it can be fun, effective, and convenient our growing devaluing of the English language will have a domino effect. That concept is justified by the fact that it’s almost a surprise when I see people use the proper usage of there, their, and they’re! I worry about us becoming a culture where people have been shamed into not thinking for themselves. A culture where dialogue can’t be had unless the parties are like minded without getting disrespectful. I worry that we are consistently losing respect for how we speak to people. How we aren’t being held accountable for our words because the keyboard is a mobile conduit where you can flow insults into a person’s head space without being anywhere near their personal space. These things worry me. I can’t fix them. I can only hold myself, my family, my friends, and my colleagues accountable but that doesn’t feel like nearly enough! I could go on but, in essence, until the majority becomes conscious of these things and the dangers of them, I would just be going on More About Nothing! The irony, I want the group, in this case, to think like me!

Did Cam Newton "Let Nas (the hood) Down"?

By now, everyone knows who won this year’s Super Bowl, the Denver Broncos. Not Cam Newton and the Carolina Panthers. I took some time to release this because I wanted to see how things played out in the aftermath. If you are a NFL fan you know that Cam Newton was the most polarizing player of the year. You either love him and what he stands for or you hate him and think he’s arrogant and disrespectful. For US though, Cam embodies what we term being “Unapologetically Black”. He was successful at playing his way and being proud of it. But he lost. So the question is, did Cam let us, “hood’, down? I would say no!

Cam put a target on his back for being so unapologetic in the face of political correctness so he will take a bevy of criticism from the press. However, the most common thing people say about the NFL is that it’s the ultimate team game. No one player can takeover a game like basketball or even baseball where a pitcher can dominate a game. Even as a quarterback, you need your offensive line to give you time to make the passes, you need your receivers to catch said passes, and you need your running backs to run effectively and not fumble the ball to keep the balance and manage the clock. Cam had neither of those the night of the Super Bowl. That will go lost because in this world the biggest star shoulders double the blame because they get so much praise for the success. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Do I feel Cam looked lethargic and beaten well before the game was out of reach? Yes. Do I think Cam should’ve dived on the ground for that fumble? Debatable. Do I think his body language and lack of visible accountability on the field and sidelines contributed to the play of his team? Yes. Because leaders lead by example first and by voice second. Cam’s polarizing personality could’ve helped light a fire in his team. I believe that. So I’m not absolving him of any responsibility. But he didn’t “Let Nas (the hood) Down” because he still was a great inspiration to black young men all year. He won league MVP as the 6^th black man in this century. He still has not broken laws or done anything morally wrong to paint black men in a bad light. Cam learned a lesson on a national stage that you have to get the job done. So even in his defeat there was a valuable lesson that may resonate to all the people that follow him and that is that you have to finish the job. Also, when you talk the talk and don’t finish the job, the world will remember your failure far more than they remember your accomplishments.

In the end, Cam will go back and become a better player and hopefully a better man as we all should aspire to be on a daily basis. And hopefully he will still, “Dab on them folks”. Unapologetically. But humility isn’t weakness, hopefully he'll use the lessons as strength and let it fuel him to finish the job next time. He's a young man trying to figure life at a faster pace than most of us and with a way bigger audience than most of us. Even grass grows.

96 Days

I really think that no matter where I live my toilet has special powers. I really do some of my best thinking there. So last night I was thinking about how life can pass you by... By doing what you have to do to survive and that's working. Of course it depends on the type of job you have but for the average person their job doesn't pay them enough to live the exciting adventure filled life that they dreamed of. If they're lucky enough to get a job where they can afford it they usually don't have the time. I fall into both categories in the wonderful world of retail sales. Now before I say anything let me first say I'm thankful for this job because it's allowing me to bring this post to you. Whether you apply it or not is up to you.. (Definitely rambling slightly) But the retail life is terrible because your pay is never the same and you work crazy hours and the holidays make you suicidal. I don't know about anybody else but after being away from my bed and my toilet for 12 hours is stressful enough without the added stress of the 9-10 hours spent working. Once I get home I'm spent. Mentally and physically. So much of the day is spent with customers who quite frankly need you to think for them and that's not calling them dumb but we're "specialists" so we have to know everything about everything and what's best for them. I'm an introvert so I'd rather spend most of the day alone thinking about whatever so after not being able to get lost in my own thoughts the only thing I want to do after work is sit on my toilet eat then get in the bed. I also write, read etc. (can you end a sentence with etc? I'm sure Trav knows) Not to mention I was probably up around 6:30 am. I say that to say this. That was one day and I still have 4 more of those. So the 2 days I get off I have to sleep, socialize, workout, get a haircut, drive home to see everybody, work on a business, pay bills, think about paying student loans and clean up. What if I want to take a trip? What if I wanted to see the world? If you follow my snapchat you would've saw me calculating the days you have off per year and I came up with 96. Feel free to check my arithmetic. I'm not counting staycation days either. To me... 96 days isn't enough time to see the world. 

New Year... New... Me?

"I started at the bottom, blind leading the blind... I did it by myself, so it took me some time" -Rick Ross; Rapper


It's that time of the year. The beginning of the year where everybody is gearing up for change... and others are gearing up to discourage it. One of the most discouraging ills of this beautiful country is that we have a society that prefers to criticize more than they prefer to congratulate. Discourage more than encourage. Don't get me wrong, I know some of it is jokes, but more often than not people actually are critical of those people who set goals for the new year.

Let's dissect it though. I wonder if people ever stop to think about why some people wait for the new year to try to change. Because not only is change hard... it's scary! A new year is symbolic of another chance and that's motivating. Change is a very scary thing because often times the only thing people fear more than death, is failure. It's such a scary thing to put your all into something and it not work out how you hoped. It's also hard to be consistently disciplined enough to resist what ever temptation can detour you from the goals you have set.

For example, if your goal is to get out of a toxic relationship right? You tweet it, you talk about it, you put it in the universe, you actually try to but the feelings unfortunately are still there right? people not only wait for you to go back to that relationship just to say "I told you so", they rarely will try to help you with the process of getting away. But what are friends for? Why aren't we there for each other more without judgment? Why don't we give each other more positive reinforcement?

Another example, your "new year, new me" goal is to relocate to a new city. You tweet it, you talk about it, you put it in the universe, you actually try to but the reality of life is that relocation isn't easy.   If your family is where you currently live, even with money and a job lined up it's hard to detach enough to leave. But instead of giving you positive reinforcement, people will tell you and anybody else that will listen that you're not going nowhere. Those same people will wait for six months to pass with you not relocating to bring back up in your face that "you still here". Now I'm not one for excuses at all, but I know we, as a society, would rather pull you back in the water, than to help you get out.

There have been many crossroads in my life that I had to face. Decisions had to be made that shaped my relationships, my career, my family and my happiness. Some helped two of those and ruined another,  helped one and ruined the other three, and otherwise. The point is at all of those crossroads the one constant was disruption. Meaning, however things were before said crossroad, they would never be the same after. Some people would have just turned around and went back into their comfort zone, I too have done so a few times, but why? Because a disruption is exactly that and a lot of times we wonder why shake the boat if everything at the time is manageable. That fear of the unknown is realer than a Mike Tyson punch in the 80's, ask Michael Spinks. It takes the perfect combination of bravery and faith to take a leap... of faith! Which is essentially what being open to change is!

So while there's "new year, new me" posts from people who are in the same position with the same habits as this time last year, people who will be in the same predicament next year, and people with brilliant and hilarious jokes about said people, don' be ashamed to at least attempt to better yourself with the genesis of yet another year you're here! Even if you don't even believe you're capable of doing the things you're professing, say it enough until you do believe it. Encourage people around you to do the same thing. Share your goals, your vision boards, and your lessons learned overtime that will help this year be better. And if December 31, 2016 comes around and not much have changed... thank God you have the chance to try again! It's a marathon, not a sprint.

 My thoughts


"As long as I'm breathing, can't knock the way a nigga eating!"

Work in progress...

                                                #

If only I loved my husband as much as he loved me.

It was early in the morning, the crack of dawn actually. The only people awake at this time were old people that woke up before sunrise, and then there was me. On the queen sized bed that stood in the middle of the bedroom. My body slumped across it, posing as if I was practicing gaining my inner chi. My husband laid beside me with his arms folded behind his head, firmly positioned on his back. I wasn’t as committed to my sleeping position. I had spent the last five minutes twisting and turning, trying to get into a comfortable spot. I needed to get up, but I wanted to spend a few more minutes wrapped around my husband’s masculine frame. Sweat trickled down the sides of my brow as I tossed the covers around. Still he doesn’t move.

The room is silent. My thoughts drowning me, thinking back to last night. How in love we appeared to be with each other. In front of all our friends and family smiles spread our cheeks high for the entire night. As I start to drift the noise of the ceiling fan whirling above my head catches my attention. It spins on high. The cool air mixes with the warm air from outside. It drowns out the smells of musk. Our scents have mixed together and settled in on the soft cotton bed sheets. I also can smell the liquor from last night seeping from our pores. The humidity is thick, but the slight breeze blowing from outside that pulls some of the air out of the room.

            We were in those months where it wasn’t quite summer and fall hadn’t begun yet. And true to his southern upbringing my husband didn’t believe in cutting the air condition on until the temperature outside hit a certain number. It was hot but with the bedroom windows up and the fan going it was manageable. My hair was already a wild, curly mess after last night so I knew a high messy bun was going to be my choice of style for today.

I moan. I stretch. I touch my husband’s head. I run my slender fingers through his thick dark curls and smile. I love my husband, I truly do. Some days I felt like it wasn’t enough. I didn’t grow up in the best home for learning to love someone. This marriage was my focal point of gaining the essentials on what a woman was supposed to give a man outside of her body. Him on the other hand came to me with the knowledge already implanted. His parents had been married for almost thirty years. He was raised in the church. He was given good morals at a young age. He knew the depths of love to provide to a woman and how to understand. My husband was kindhearted and never hurt a soul. Or he never intended to. There were times during our earlier years of dating throughout college where I ended up with a bruised heart, but he always made it right. He had given me praise telling me I was the first woman that he ever wanted to do right by. So no matter how many times he did wrong something in him compelled him to make it right.

Due to his childhood he had his set ways of doing things. He had his way of loving me. Implanted were rules on how to love a woman, how to care and how to nurture for a woman. The dos and don’ts of love were rooted and I was the fertilizer to encourage it to grow and bloom. His father had taught him that the man was the leader of the household, the provider. The man worked and made sure that the woman didn’t want for anything. I was raised to care for myself and care for a man in a way that made me feel like I was a slave. I turned to books and education to break that unhealthy cycle. Here I was years later trying to balance that beam that weighed heavy.

He didn’t compromise or bend.

He was firm.

He loves me.

I feel sometimes that his love is too much. I get swept up in it and it overwhelms me. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t make me feel special. That he didn’t wrap those big arms around me and make all of my worries go away. There wasn’t a moment where he didn’t make sure that I was keeping him first. He took care of everything that a man should take care of within the household. It was a daily struggle for me to allow him to do so.

Last night was no different. Our fourth year of marriage, on the third Thursday of September, we celebrated with friends and family. I was beautiful to him last night. He made sure to tell me numerous times. As we sat amongst others he made sure to make me his priority. His hand never left mine. His almond shaped eyes always stayed peering into mine. His full lips parted before I could separate mine. With every memory that was offered about us meeting, dating and entering into our union he made sure to squeeze my hand tight. I admired him for his courage. Whenever there was a doubt in anyone’s mind he was the force that was determined to keep this thing going.

I am blessed to have him.

Over chatter, glasses clinking from toast, and jokes being traded amongst our table my husband glorified me. Highlighted me for being the love his life. He held my hand tight and lifted my hand every time someone mentioned the size of my ring. He was proud to show me off. He was proud to have proven that we could make it as long as we have, five whole years together. He was sure to show his gorgeous smile as he opened up to our family and friends how lucky he was that I had given him so many chances.

So many chances to get it right.

Husband and wife.

His cell phone rings. Jerks my attention. I roll over him and lean over to the other side of the bed. On a wooden nightstand lies his phone. On the third ring I answer. Caller ID unknown and a series of ten digits radiate on the screen.

“Hello?”

My voice is thick. Harsh. I sound groggy.

CLICK!

There is no answer from the other line. Instead the person has disconnected. I think it is a client. I decide to try the number back and plan on taking a message for my husband. Whoever the person is answers on the fourth ring.

“Sweetie” a woman’s voice chimes through the phone.

Her voice carries the sound of angels compared to my previous groggy hello. After a few failed attempts to clear my throat, I speak.

“Hello? Who is this?”

There is no answer. I only hear my heavy breathing. I am now sitting up with the phone pinned to my ear.

“Um.. I think I have the wrong number.”

“Im sure”

I disconnect the line. I take my free hand, my left hand, and the hand that housed the rock that my husband used to stamp me as his. I take that hand and dig my fingers in to my scalp. With a swift back and forth motion I shake the loose hair that rests on top of head. My curls shake and resemble tree leaves shaking in the wind. I purse my full lips together and they are chapped. I lick them with my thick tongue. I am thirsty. Dehydrated from a night of drinking and celebrating. I can still taste my husband. I had wanted to slip under the covers and place my head in my husband’s lap. I had wanted his moans to fill our bedroom as they had done the night before. There was this trick that I always kept in tow on special occasions, I wanted to be his magician this morning. All the things that I had wanted to do to him.

“Who was that?”

He speaks. The king of the jungle with hair like wool moves. His hands firmly grip my exposed thighs, he squeezes. His hands trail up from my legs to my stomach. This is where he rests. He moves slowly but demanding as he places his head in my lap. I place my free hand, the other still gripping his cell phone, on his curly head. It had been his pride and joy for the past few months. He was a black man that had been oppressed so many years by “the man” and now that he was free he was embracing his roots, according to him. I didn’t care one bit, I just wanted him to cut this mess.

I grunt. “Wrong number.” I didn’t believe the words even as they left my lips.

Without warning he reaches up and grabs his phone. “Could’ve been a client. They probably weren’t expecting a woman to answer the phone.”

I huff. “Mhm.” Moving swiftly, I’m up and out of bed. I head to bathroom to watch the scent of my husband off of me. If you knew my husband you would know there were so many layers to him. The same man that I made love to last night was not the same man that was upset and pouting because I slipped my card out for the bill, last night, when it came. I knew his financial situation and I didn’t want to put him on the spot. So being the woman that I was and all the extra hours that I was working I could afford to treat my husband to an anniversary dinner. If we were alone it would have been fine, but at a table with our friends, to him, it was an issue.

“A man has to be a man Joan. I should be treating you.”

Larry spoke those words to me last night. Being the loving wife that I was I wouldn’t dare remind my charming husband that he was no longer was employed at his fancy web designer job. Although he pretended to get up a few mornings and go into the office until I caught him red handed. He had quit. Walked off his job, tie in hand, determined to do something better with his time and skills. He had spent the last two years at an imaging firm building web pages for clients that ordered caviar as a side dish. Larry was a real down to earth brotha and he wanted to keep his talents in the community, primarily working with black owned businesses.

Now every workday, he sat in our second bedroom, in front of his computer all day clicking and typing. Still no checks were coming in the way they were previously. That resulted with me picking up extra duties at work and somehow I managed to get promoted. Ever since that promotion Larry had become someone I didn’t know. He was mean at times. He said things that made me question if this was the same man that asked me to be his wife two years ago. Now everything was about him being the man of the house and providing. He constantly stated how disappointed his father would be if he knew the details of our marriage.

I spent my days busting my butt to operate above my skill level and my nights making my man feel like he was still the king in this jungle. He wasn’t. At times I envied him for being so selfish. Quitting his job without asking me how I felt about it. After all the sacrifices I was making he only saw how busy I was and how much time I spent working. My husband was selfish, irresponsible and taking advantage of me. Some nights he wouldn’t even touch me. Other nights he wouldn’t even come to bed. Just sit in front of that computer.

And now some woman was calling for him.

If only my husband loved me as much as I loved him.

5pm Freak

There's a fire burning inside of you
That you can't put out
There's another side of you
That few people know 'bout
That quiet storm brewing in your pelvic region
You're begging for the levees to break
You just need a good reason
Class personified, so you've always held this in
A lady first, you want that to be the view
You present to all these men
So these desires you kept deep within
Are fighting for release in the form of sin
How else can you please you?
You've dedicated your life to a man
That don't quite speak to you
Your husband thinks just keeping the lights on
Should keep you
But he's never tapped inside of the Freak, you!
He's never licked your thighs
Like late night HBO televised
He's never closed the blinds in your office
and watched your alter ego come alive
And your coworkers only see the business you
If only they knew after 5pm, the freak, you
We get caught up in life so much, we forget to live
So much cunnilingus men forget to give
He got so comfortable in the routines
He stopped taking advantage of when you wear skirts
Instead of jeans
Now your mind wanders, and your heart no longer flutters
When the last time you had sex
That wasn't under the covers
Wonder about that
Fantasize about repeating your climax
Get lost in the words
Get lost in your mind
Get lost in your passion
Get lost in your thighs!

Thankful

It's been a minute since my last post. But here I am to tell you to forget about the past.  I know some people are thinking that's impossible but it's damn near necessary to achieve what you've been put on this earth to accomplish.  The past usually does one of two things, it keeps us in fear or gives a false sense of security.  Honestly I don't know which one is worse.  They both cause you miss out on what's happening right now, one is just voluntary (fear), while the other I'd say is more involuntary. The past preoccupies you with things, that for all intensive purposes, don't matter anymore.  You may have had a loved one die and you don't want to forget them and you shouldn't.  But you should never dwell on situations, like you wish you would've said something more or done something differently. Maybe you really wronged someone or vice versa, the best thing you can do is forgive; forgive yourself for making a mistake, forgive the other person because you deserve it, yes you deserve to forgive, you deserve to be free of the burden of feeling that someone screwed you over, but that's another post.  All in all, there are so many miracles occurring right now in your life, don't let something that happened 5 years ago, 5 months ago, 5 weeks ago, 5 days ago, even 5 minutes ago cause you to miss out on enjoying right now. 

Happy Thanksgiving