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Love Letter by A Sexually Aggravated Woman (Parental Discretion is Advised)

Dear "Thorn In My Ass"

Hell yeah I cheated! I came to a place where all you ever give me is distasteful words and misery. I’m a woman that needs to be emotionally pleased and sexually satisfied. I know you’ll do anything for me but honestly I can financially do for myself. Spoiling me isn’t going to make me stay around and be loyal to your fickle ways. In the middle of our sexual escapades, I moan from the feeling of how you fill up my anatomy but what I hear from you is “ Be quiet, that’s not turning me on. You need to hurry up and bust one.” How can I reach my peak of climax when you are throwing off my vibe from negativity? But HE.. Mmm Mmm Mmm… HE knows how to make me feel smashingly good! HE knows how to stimulate my mind with intellectual conversation which releases the endorphins that eases the agony I encounter daily from you. And what’s crazy is that I’m the one that’s sexually aggressive in the affair between HIM and I. When we are intimately connected, it feels as if my soul has become one with HIS and no matter how much I try to hold back the river flow, I find myself flooding the bedroom from recurrent nut busting. That comes from endless nights of being unable to release myself when I’m with you. See, I’ve never been the type to step out on my man but truth be told, I’m not happy with you. Never was and it’s quite evident that I never will be. I’m not going to stick around just because you supply me with the latest Jimmy Choo shoes and Hermes Birkin bags with a weekly allowance of $1,500 or better. As a matter of fact, I don’t appreciate how you have insulted my intelligence. Giving me any and everything I want just so I can stick around. Remember last week when I told you I was in the Bahamas visiting my grandmother? Well the truth is I was in Aruba on a rendezvous get away with HIM. HE held me every night when we were there. HE watched me sleep. HE protected me. We rubbed our faces and feet together every time our bodies met. HE holds my hand. HE gives me a sense of security. These are the things a WOMAN needs from her man. Not to be told to be quiet and not to feel emotionally disconnected from the man she is with. I have complained to you about this on numerous occasions. I have made several attempts to make this right between us but you have taken me for granted. So since you didn’t appreciate a woman that was willing to be at your beckon call and love you past the pain you experienced from your ex, I can no longer stick around and allow you to annihilate the little good and love I have left in me. So I’m ending this letter with “ BYE BYE, I’M GONE! I have a plane to catch. I’m on my way to South Beach to meet up with HIM for our fourth “ lets get away” get away!

Sincerely,
No Longer Sexually Aggravated ;-)

Bully (A Short Story by Tiffanie Minnis)

Being smart is not the easiest thing for me. All of the other kids in my class pick on me because they say I think I know everything. It’s not my fault that reading the dictionary and watching the Discovery Channel excites me more then watching Ben10 and Phineas and Ferb all day long. Besides, if you live in my home you’re lucky to even have the chance of watching at least 30 minutes of T.V. My mom always tells me “ Be a leader not a follower. You already have two strikes against you just for being born a black male and I refuse to let you get caught up in the system.” I never knew what she meant and I still don’t but I hear her say this everyday. Even to my friends that come over. I beg her not to do it but she does it anyway. It’s embarrassing and I get picked on daily at school for it. Nobody wants to be my friend. They all laugh at me. I can hear the snickers and giggles as soon as I enter the classroom and the moment I sit down in my seat, that’s when I get hit with the spit balls and balled up paper. I raise my hand to ask permission to use the restroom. I never really use it though. I just sit down on the toilet seat, rock back and forth and smear my glasses with my silent tear drops. I just want to be liked by all the other cool kids.

I try to blend in with them. When I get off of the school bus in the morning, I roll up the left leg of my pants and sag my pants by taking off my belt, just enough to show that I’m wearing brand new Spider Man boxers. I put on this cool walk where I limp with the right leg and slowly drag my left leg as it sways forward. The kids laughed a lot harder when I did this. They said I looked like a geeky dork that has no swag. I lowered my head towards the floor and swiftly walked away. “ I don’t understand why they won’t like me.” The first thing my mom ask me when I get home is “ How was your day in school?” I tell her fine but my day is never fine when it comes to the bullies that taunt me daily. The only exciting thing about school is when my papers are returned with the infamous huge red letter “A.” Why won’t I tell my mom what’s going on you ask?” Because she is crazy. I know she will go to the school and try to beat those kids up. I love my mom and I don’t want to see her go to prison for hurting those poor kids. I wish my dad was around. I need a male figure to talk to but I have no idea where he is. It’s okay though. My mom tells me that I’m the man of the house and that makes me feel quite alright. When I’m done with my homework, I write. I write to hold back the tears because I’m actually tired of crying. I’m not sure if its feasible but I actually feel some sort of stress. A stressed out 9 year old?! Well, according to the definition word for stress: mental, emotional, or physical strain caused, e.g. by anxiety or overwork: I’m emotionally strained from anxiety because I overwork myself by trying to fit in and be accepted by my peers. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t as smart as I am. I mean, I can rattle off any word in the dictionary from memory. Who can say that at this age? I intentionally failed all of the test I took to qualify for the gifted program. They were easy like those women that walk the strips late at night but I didn’t want to be in advanced and gifted classes. Do you know how much torture that would have been for me? I already dread getting up in the morning for school because I have to face a world that doesn’t want me to be apart of it. The thoughts of my clothes eating my lunch is just a small part of my Monday-Friday hassles. Yes I said my clothes eat my lunch meaning I get food thrown at me everyday while I’m sitting and fuming quietly at a table by myself. I eat a free lunch and my mom doesn’t pack lunches for me. She says “ We’re on a budget so packing a daily lunch for you will cost more money on groceries. I’m doing everything by myself so free lunch helps me out more then you understand baby.” I guess I’ll have to endure being laughed at because I’m forced to eat cafeteria food without chips or cookies for a snack because mom can’t give me a few dollars since it cuts into the food budget.

About two weeks ago, my English teacher gave us a critical thinking assignment. The instructions were to think of a negative situation and come up with a way to make it positively work for us. We had the whole week, including the weekend, to have it done. I instantly knew what I wanted to write about but I didn’t want to reveal how broken and sad I was feeling inside. So I decided to write about bullies becoming friends with everyone they picked on from a general point of view. Of course, I did well and received an A, but that assignment changed my life. I settled on applying some of those strategies just to see if I could change the way I was being treated by my bullies. The next day in class, after the assignment was turned in, I decided to try my luck. Bill, my most hated nemesis, stood up to make his way towards the restroom. His pants were sagging as usual so I decided to have a talk with him about the way he looked.
“ Hey Bill? May I have a word with you for a second?”
“ What do you want goof troop?”
I laughed “ I just wanted to tell you that you have doodoo on your underwear. As a matter of fact, you have doodoo stains on your underwear everyday and everyone sees it when you don’t wear a belt. I wanted to tell you but you were always so busy picking on me, or throwing pencil erasers at me or tying my laces together so that I can fall or….well you get the point. All I’m saying is what you think is cool really makes you look like a fool. Let me walk behind you to the bathroom so no one sees and when you get in there fix your pants.” He stood there with a look of disbelief and obliged to my suggestion. When we made it to the restroom, he went into one of the stalls and fixed himself. When he came out, he had tears in his eyes. “What is the matter with you?” He replied “ Thank you. Thank you so much. I never had anyone to stand up to me the way you did but you didn’t embarrass me even though you had the perfect chance to do so. I’m so sorry for everything I did to you. The reason why I bully you all the time is because my oldest brother beats me everyday when I get home. For no reason. Just beat, eat, beat, wash dishes, beat, clean my room, beat, beat, beat! My mom doesn’t seem to care. My dad is no where around for me to run to. I can’t control my bowls because my level of worry and stress has broken down my immune system quite a bit. The doctor says it’s a normal condition called Bowel Incontinence, but only I really know why its happening. So my only outlet is to do what is done to me.” I’m thinking to myself, “ Did he just say outlet? He’s not so dumb after all.” I was lost for words as a feeling of sadness became the emotion I felt after what he just told me. “ I don’t have much advice to give you about the relationship between you and your brother but since I know that your mom works at night, maybe I can explain to my mom what’s going on and she can have a talk with yours. My mom is real cool too. She’ll even let you spend the night a few nights out the week. But you gotta be on top of your homework and reading is a must in my house.” His eyes widened and glossy from excitement while he nodded his head up and down on the double.
“ Oh yes! That would be great. Could you please please please do that for me?!”
“Sure that’s not a problem but first and foremost no more coming to school looking like a vagrant. You must wear a belt and ironed clothes for crying out loud. I’ll help you with your homework so that means if I’m going to put in any valuable time to help you, you better not get any grades lower then an A!” For the first time ever, amongst my fellow peers, I was in control. It almost felt like the roles were reversed and I was now the “bully.”
Weeks went by and Bill and I became pretty close. My mom had that talk with his mom. It was needed because she started to pay closer attention to how Bill was being mistreated by his older brother. She claimed that working the graveyard shift made her really tired so she didn’t put in as much time at home with the boys like she is suppose to. My mom also agreed to let Bill spend the night two nights out the week and on the weekends as long as his behavior changed and he wore his Good Nights Underpants. I began to gain popularity at school through my new found friendship with Bill. Everyone was scared of Bill, even the other bullies. Everyone that use to pick on me wanted to be my friend now. I couldn’t believe it. It felt really good because all I wanted was for the other kids to like me and now almost the whole school kisses my Jordan tracks in the dirt. Bill continued to bully people. I joined in on the bullying too. I couldn’t let my best friend do all the bullying alone. I wanted in on some of the action and I felt a need for pay back.

One day I took my allowance money and bought a bunch of belts from the dollar store. We carried them in our back pack to school everyday. Whenever Bill and I would see another boy student sagging their pants, we would approach them and “bully” them around. Bill would grab them by the collar of their shirt and say “ Why are you walking around showing your underwear? Do you know what sagging really means? If not, look it up but in the meantime pull up your pants and put this belt on.” I would hand him a belt from my backpack and Bill would ever so kindly make these boys put on a belt. It’s hilarious. Then he would say “ And I better not catch you walking around these parts sagging again boy! You got that?” They would just nod their heads rapidly and run off. We would high five each other while cracking up and make our way to where we needed to be. I’m more of the classroom “bully”. I make everyone shut up and listen to the teacher when a lesson is being given “ How do you expect to get a good grade if you too busy running your mouth about a boy or girl that don’t really like you or just plain ole non-sense that will not help you get a scholarship to an ivy league college? Therefore, I’m gonna need you to shut up and pay attention. And when the grades come back neither one of you better not get anything lower then an A! I mean it too!” They listen to me. They better!
About three weeks ago, Wednesday morning, I got off of the school bus and wasn’t greeted by Bill. He usually waits for me at the bus stop in the school yard whenever we don’t ride the bus together in the mornings. He never showed up for school. That shocked me because when we spoke that night before, we had to hang up a little early because we wanted to get enough rest for a test we were having in our Social Studies class that day. A counselor came into our class around 2 o’clock because she needed to speak with the whole class about some tragedy that happened to one of the students. Three other students were absent from the S.S class that day so I didn’t expect to hear what I heard.
“ Good Afternoon students. I have an announcement to make regarding one of your peers. Bill Thompson left to be with his angels at 12:45 this afternoon. The police is currently investigating the situation a little further but the reporters are stating that he suffered a broken rib cage and internal bleeding from a blow that was delivered from his brother last night. I wanted to make this announcement because I am and will be available for the rest of the school year to all students that feel the need to drop by my office and talk about your feelings on what happened. Please do not hesitate to come and see me. It’s been all over the news today and it will be for a while so again, please come in and see me if you need to talk. Thank you.” My body went numb and all I kept thinking to myself over and over was “ She didn’t just say what she just said right? This can’t be true.” The whole class, including the teacher, didn’t say a word and make a move for about 30 minutes. The bell rang for dismissal and we all sat there for about 5 minutes before the first person got up to leave. While I was walking down the hallway, everyone was staring at me as if they wanted to come and console me but instead they gave me my space. I walked home that day. It was a long walk but I didn’t care. I needed the fresh air because I didn’t know what to think or feel at that moment. When I finally reached home, my mom ran to me and gave me a big hug. With eyes swelled with tears, she asked if I were okay. I nodded yes and went to my room and shut the door behind me. I laid there and cried for the remainder of the night. I cried every night for the last three weeks but in the midst of those tears I found strength and a vow I have committed to keep:

“ Bill you are gone but you will never be forgotten and as long as I have breathe in me, our “Bully Movement” will be forever enforced in remembrance of you. Rest In Peace Bill. Love you always!”

Q&A About #WritersMovement

What is Writers Movement?

It is an online community of writers and aspiring authors supporting each other.

Why was Writers Movement established?

It was established for writers and aspiring authors alike to meet while bouncing ideas off of each other, motivating each other and to increase exposure of talented works by talented unknown writers.

Who are welcome to join the Writers Movement?

Any and everyone that have a passion for writing, words, and reading while working hard at launching a writing career in different writing arenas. Also, those that are interested in giving reviews, construtive critism, positive critiques and feedback. I would love for publishers and editors to join the movement whether their business is in the process of being launched or already established.

How will Writers Movement help members?

There will be writing challenges and beneficial topics of discussion that will fuel us to become better business oriented writers. It will equip us with the right tools and knowledge to break through barriers while reaching our individually defined writing goals.

When will Writers Movement Meet?

The schedule is tentatively set for Saturdays at 6pm est time but may change if the demands of members call for a different time.

Where will Writers Movement meet?

We will meet on twitter at the time set. The chat can be accessed by logging into http://tweetchat.com/room/writersmovement with your twitter username and password

Writers Movement

I'm working on launching a #WritersMovement on my blog for writers and aspiring authors of all genre's. The Writers Movement will be a positive supportive online community exposing talented works of talented unkown writers! The main plot is to keep each other motivated and writing. The plan is to have weekly discussions on topics that can benefit us in becoming better writers and put us in front of the right people that can and will contribute to our success. We will also have writing challenges that will be linked to the #WritersMovement chat so that we can promote each other on our blogs and drive more traffic to our blogs and websites. We can never stop learning or have enough exposure. I'm open to comments and suggestions. The more the better so retweet and pass the word around. Let's make this movement a success!

Author First Lady

Top 10 Authors/Books

1. Maya Angelou-her words pierces deep into my soul and moves me in ways that are indescribable...speechless with goosebumps

2. Napoleon Hill- Think and Grow Rich/ shows you how to tap into your Infinite Intelligence and obtain an abundance of happiness and wealth

3. Robert Allen-One Minute Millionaire/ 2 books in one containing a fictional story and "millionaire minutes," which summarizes attitudes, strategies and techniques for building wealth

4. Michael Baisden- self-published author and best seller of " Men Cry in the Dark" & "The Maintenance Man" Not only are his books good, but the motivation behind how he got started motivates me to keep writing.

5.Langston Hughes- Poet/ I enjoy his simplistic realism poetic flows

6. Mary Monroe-author/ I love her twisted sick sense of fiction story telling. She has a weird creativeness which makes a good read

7. Zane-author/ her books are guaranteed to keep any relationship spicy!

8. Zora Neale Hurston- author/ the frequent crudeness and bawdiness of the tales she told captures me and gives me a sense of sassiness in my own writing

9. Alice Walker-author of "The Color Purple." This classic novel is rich with passion and inspiration and has established Alice Walker as a major voice in modern fiction.

10. Donald Goines-author/ He was a convicted felon drug addict that wrote 16 novels in a short span of 6 years. This epitomizes a genius as a writer which no doubt shows his love for words and literary.

Visit Top10Blog at http://www.thetop10blog.com/ for Top 10's, lists, rankings, plus a series of reflections on life.

Deadly "Bang"

It’s another dark, cold, and quiet night. I’m comfortably tucked away in my rusted old sanctuary. I haven’t been of any use since my arrival, but from the menacing words that echoed off of the peeling dry walls the other night, I presume that my much needed leverage of security will be in dire need pretty soon. I hear footsteps as the screeching sound of worn out heels draw closer and begins to give me an unnerving suspicion. Oh boy! Here comes that loud voice of dreaded distress again. But wait, there’s another unfamiliar voice. It’s masculine with a deep monotone that sounds off as being livid and ready to cut this squabble short.

“ Hey up there! Can you please pipe down! I’m trying to get some much needed rest in here”

I think they heard me because the room becomes silent followed by a loud “thump” which sends a gentle vibration across the wood boards underneath me. I hear her cry sharply as my place of peace begins to violently budge. Suddenly, I’m blinded by this intense light. Fresh air! Haven’t smelled such a scent since I’ve been locked away in here. Wait…what is this red substance dripping down on me?

“Come on now! I don’t have time for this. I’m aggravated and the sextuplets that have been implanted in me gives me constant discomfort so could you just wipe me off and shut the door.”

I surmise my cries weren’t heard this time. I’m unexpectedly lifted and the light has strongly illuminated my dusky ambiance. Now I’m drawn against the face that tones the masculine voice. He seems to be unmoved. It’s evident by the condescending smirk that’s smeared across his face.

“Hey! That’s my breast you’re fondling with missy”

My breast is squeezed tightly as I go into an abrupt contraction. Out comes my first born, Hollow. He aims for and penetrates the forehead of this anonymous enemy and instantly wipes that annoying smirk from his mug. There’s another loud “thump” as he hit’s the floor. The same red substance that’s smeared all over me is now pouring out profusely from his head. There’s another loud “thump” as I hit the floor which immediately delivers my second born, Point. I’m slipping into unconsciousness. She dials three numbers then softly whimpers

“ He’s here. Come quick.”

I assume she’s safe now. My job here is done.