That Voice

Never really respected the truth behind the scripture that told me it was impossible to kick against the preek. To be perfectly honest, I didn't even know it was a scripture when I was running the streets. I did know however that something wasn't right. Two pills, four blunts, and countless hennessy shots wasn't enough to convince me that the naked chick laying beside me was my type. Staring at the ceiling as she slept, recounting the time I was so high I passed out twice. Can't just thank God for the homies who held me down, I had thank God for sparing my life. That awkward moment; Trying to talk to God, laid up with a woman who wasn't my wife. One can only imagine that when she woke up, the conversation was fairly light. I mean, considering love had nothing to do with this, there wasn't much to talk about, and cuffing one nighters from the club; I'm not about that life.

But who can tell you that you're not enjoying life when you're doing all the things the average nine to fiver couldn't afford? Rapping and buying new outfits just to stand on couches with my team, while holding up bottles, and kicking it with pretty women; Wasn't this what my generation of men lived for? Ironically enough, in a clouded room full of perception, moving to the sounds of the latest bangers, it seemed as if everyone, including those who were over looked, were enjoying this experience a little bit more. I'm having a good time, but abusing illegal substances, in attempts to drown out a voice telling me "this isn't the knock opportunity wants you to be listening for."

The life of the party was at its peak, but I was at my low. All good, I'll just pop another one of these pills, and blow more of this weed smoke. Jungle fever the drinks, start mixing the white with the brown; fifteen minutes later, that pill is kicking in, and I'm talking some strangers panties down. Forget who she might've slept with last night; Look at that face, them lips, and them thighs. But here goes that voice again, trying to get my mind to reason with my eyes. "this is Atlanta, what if she has a boyfriend who likes to sleep with guys?" Am I really hearing this right here, right now? Nah, I can't be. Ignore it and charge it to being high. Been in these shoes so many nights, pride alone wouldn't allow me to believe they weren't my size.

And perception, well see....It's a funny thing, because unless you see tears, you almost never listen for ones cries. Crazy how ego will deny discomfort in a room full of lies. Club full of folks, and I couldn't spot one person who didn't have something to hide. But I couldn't count the ones who were able to drink it all away for the night and have a good time. I used to enjoy it the way they did, why don't I now? If I really don't wanna be high, why can't I put the drugs down? Wasn't ready to stop drinking, I was in love with the taste. Wasn't ready to accept a woman for who she was, I was in love with her waist. So much temptation in my face, can't let such pleasure go to waste. Been doing this for years now; Why suddenly this voice I can't shake?

In a place, feeling out of place, never scared, but never feeling safe. Soldiers with me, always good, my concern was with fate. Bullets ain't got no names, death don't give you no dates, and I had ignored that voice telling me to go right so long, death started looking like an escape. Nah, I didn't wanna die, was too fly for suicide, but too many wrong turns will eventually lead you to the wrong place at the wrong time. All of this in the back of my mind, but all of these women are in front of my eyes; Feeling like friends can't relate, but my poker face says every thing's fine.

But why? Why am I not fine? Why can't I just enjoy this blunt and this dime? Why can't I zone out to this music? I do this all the time. But lately, the more I do , the more the discomfort grows. The more I try to tune you out, the more you kill my buzz, but why me though? And why do I hear you the most when I'm trying to go out and enjoy my night? Why can't I drown you out with the liquor like everyone else does? And the voice spoke
"Because I'm trying to save your life. You're chosen."

Now ask yourself. Are you ignoring that voice?

-Jermaine G.

#GentlemanTheory

Confessions

She said "I love you" ten times in a span of ten minutes. I think I stopped believing in about ten seconds. I knew that she'd be gone in another ten days. Still I smiled and said it back, because I'm always one to count my blessings. See, even in a lie there's a lovely message. It becomes exercise if you identify it and accept it. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and the fact that we no longer communicate is part of my progression. Sometimes the hardest lesson is the easiest to read but you give it the blind eye because your heart has its own future projected. A will of your own - "who needs Gods direction?" Wasn't saying it with my mouth, but was regularly stepping. As if I don't know I've already been chosen and can only walk according to a purpose that's written in heaven. Hard to kick against the pricks, cant run from what's destined. Wasn't sent to deliver smiles, but to deliver a message. Whats funny though, is many smile even when they don't want to accept it. The truth will never be everybody's friend but everybody will always respect it. As for Miss lady - if ever I run into her, I'll throw a piece of my heart up in the air and tell her to fetch it. See, she acted like a female dog as we fell off, but she'll still know that I love her the moment she reaches to catch it.

As far as the present - the more I unwrap my potential it appears that more women offer up their domestics. I guess one would think that's a beautiful thing, but Vicky told me a secret - she said "they want a different type of connection". Some women don't want a man, they want his progression. Some women just want his fans, forget his attention. Some women don't want time that don't come with a necklace, and some women don't really know love that don't come with erections. Doesn't mean that all women are bad, just means that I know what's good, and what's right is about the only thing I'll settle for being left with. There's a difference between having desires and being desperate. The one's who never learn the difference are the bait the piranhas are always catching.

I don't just speak it for my health, there's a key to my methods. The transparency of a man will teach the masses wisdom through his confessions. Just in case they ever thought that it was easy being me, I remind them to whom much is given, much is tested. Some never thought they'd see me do everything I always expected, but the more it unfolds the more the same individuals seem to be checking. Giving there praises, when I'm not looking for the credit. I just want them to know my blesser, and the reason he's continually blessing. So many comments, so many questions, so many opinions, and so many suggestions. Through it all I always seem to find joy in knowing everybody's ok, faith assured, never second guessing. I guess if there's a cocky bone left in my body, you can probably find it somewhere buried in this message. But as I send it out to sea, never to return, I just want the reader to know its God first, nothing else is even a close second. If ever the shoe fits, wear it, but beware of who you step with. And never take for granted that which you have, it could be gone in ten seconds. Isn't that how I started this message? Catch it. These are my confessions.

Pretty Tears - Pretty Lost

She hates ignor-ance, yet she ignores what's real. You know her type. She dates a bunch of status quo's who ignore the way she really feels. With a smile and physique that attracts celebrity faces, it's hard to tell her that her lack of patience is a slight case of self hatred. Saturday night she's wasted, Sunday morning she's praising, and Monday she's tweeting class like she's not the girl who wears her Friday night dress where her waist is. Is there really a lack of sincere people in the world or is it just her poor decision making? Her revolving circumstances just match her associations. Daring enough to look down on the less appealing woman as if she's too basic. Hardly a fair assesment, considering her relationship resume shows no real love traces. Too many nights shes made love faces only to find out in later days that it wasn't love making.



Many days its like her heart is in a strange place. Almost impossible for a hopeless romantic to find a love that requires faith. Understand, hopeless is the equivelent of doubt, and romance doesn't promise love, so her heart is gambling at high stakes. And who really likes to stand by and watch a heart break? Some try to offer guidance, but she ignores their heart beats because she's more into the heart's face. Only herself to blame for her heart being in this dark place when the same things that make her cry are the same things that make her heart race.

We're all entitled to mistakes so you cant judge her. But she's so into herself she can't appreciate the ones who love her. She wants what she wants, and what she wants is a good time. She needs a man who has a good name in the spots where the elite toast the good wine. So many lies, so many games, and so many fails. Not hard to understand why love to her is like a fairytale. Problem is, if you ever try to correct her, she might just ignore the message depeneding on who delivers the mail. Yeah you know her type. That's right I know her too. Was once the one laying next to her as some of those messages were coming through. Indeed, we all reap what we sow, so it wouldn't be upsetting for me to know that in that fashion, some of my messages were later ignored too.



Nevertheless, this isn't about me or you, but a woman who's own reflection henders her from finding her way to what's true. She's searching for a love that really doesn't exist - the devil dressing up a curse and presenting it as a gift. Always appears to look good until it's unwrapped. Ironically, at first sight you'd think her beauty is unmatched. But to another brother who's been up under her covers, he's looking at you wondering why you'd ever try to cuff that. A little rap, high heels, and white liquor - true colors start to seep through as her attitude begins to paint the picutre. She's a bad chick, these others are average, and ain't too many dudes real enough to handle her package. Vip access, free wine glasses, and can't forget to take a couple pictures for the masses.



She's showing off. One would think this is the life but imagine being confused wanting the devil to show you the light. Thinking you're doing right, when really you're running left, your outter perfectly pieced, but your inner a pretty mess. Who understands? Most dont, and most never will, because the look is what attracts, nobody focuses on the feel. At least not in the field where she chooses to play. Hard to undestand her pain when this is the bed in which she chooses to lay. Just understand, sometimes when she's smiling from ear to ear, it's not always joy - sometimes she's fighting back the tears. She fears.............



To confess that she's pretty and lost.


THE CURE?

She needs love and not the type that comes with nude body language, but the type that digs deep into her soul and can sweep up her foundation. Her pride needs breaking, but her heart needs rebuilding. She doesn't need someone who admires, she needs someone who can identify her feelings. She needs someone who see's her beauty without paying her looks any mind. Someone who can show her it's not about the spotlight, but about the way her spirit shines. She needs love, not necessarily someone who wants to pursue, but someone that'll help her find her way b/c like her they were once lost too.

As I always say...The power is in the love.

-Jermaine G.
#GentlemanTheory

Tough Tears (The Cure)

The toughest acts are often times the softest at heart. Mixing pain with pride is like lighter fluid - the man with the most is the quickest to spark. Quick to react, quick to anger, and even lash out, not because he's crazy, but emotional. When he feels strongly about being right, and thinks you've done him wrong, things become non-negotiable. Understand, anger in many cases pertaining to man, is nothing more than prideful depression. An unfilled void, a need for love, yet too much testosterone to cry out for that need with humility and sincere expression. When things don't go his way, when people don't respond the way he expects them to - he's too much of a man to ask for an understanding, or to express in a humble manor his hurt, concern or fear. And everything you say slowly becomes everything he doesn't want to hear. He's kicking into another gear, where that pain meets the pride, and channels all of his disappointments, and fear through the intensity of his eyes. The tone of his voice, and language of his body shout

"don't play with me"

but beyond the surface, his soul cries. The anger, the hatred, all a cry for help, a need for love in disguise. Why? Because at the end of the day, he gets validation when he hears the people say

"that dude right there is not to be messed with, he don't play."

He'd feel like a sukka the day he walked away, and the last thing he wants is for others to think of him and feel the same way.

Reality dying to feed us all one big lesson. That many people's reality is nothing more than perception. A day and age where we die over nothing because we're dying to be accepted. Although no one will really confess it. What defines the man? His spirit or his possessions? With all that he's gained, what need is there to be angry? The answer is simple. Not even possessions can cure depression. Not every man is a killer because he shows signs of aggression. Not every man with a gun will pull the trigger, many just want to make an impression. No man wants his manhood to be in question. However, the question is - who you trying to please? God or man? Because see, someone in the streets does you wrong, and you walk away - they may think you're weak, but God understands. He understands that you understand. All He's trying to teach you is that children act out, but you're supposed to be a man. People are supposed to try you, that's all part of the devils plan. The way you react lets the world know who you're validated by, God or man.

See, as a man, I understand. For so long, so many people have done you so wrong. Even those you attempt to feed, turn around and bite your hand. The women who pretend its you they need, want nothing more than to enjoy the fruits of your labor, deceived in their own beliefs that what you possess is what makes you the better man. The friend who's only a friend when you give, but never around when you need. So no matter how much you gain, you feel like someone's trying to take, and what started as a dream turns to greed. You just wanted to do your thing and stack a little cheese. Now you can never have enough, because someone else always has more. Becoming more prideful in that which you have, the more you realize you're becoming the man all the women are checking for. We all know, wherever the women are, you're sure to find other men. See, other men are checking for those women who are now checking for you, and this is where the hate begins.

Like you, there are many other men who channel their pains. Like you, they need more than one woman and bunch of materialistic gains. This is what keeps you sane. It pacifies the ego. It's a good feeling to have one of the prettiest chicks passenger side your nice ride, saying to herself

"this dude is THAT dude wherever he goes."

It's no longer real to just be ordinary people. You gotta do it big, you gotta do it for the people. Oh yeah, I forgot, you gotta do it for your family. But reality is, when I had a bottle in my hand, a stack in my pocket, and chick by my side, the last thing I was thinking about was my FAMILY. I just wanted the world to understand me, the ladies to love me, and the men to never attempt to underhand me.

But of coarse things don't always work out the way you plan. So when her loves fails and he tries to cheat you, you become angry,and no one understands. No one understands she was only down because you appeared to be coming up. No one understands he was only down to get to down with the females you were down with, other than that, he really wanted to set you up. No one understands that you've been down this road before. But what you have to understand is this road doesn't end till death, unless you decide you want more. What you must understand is, God knows your pain. What you must understand is, that if you trust Him, He'll place people around you who regardless of what you have or don't have, will love you the same. What you must understand is the man that has grown out of being tough has no reason to be ashamed. See, the man who finds love is the man who attempts to provide the world with the opportunity to do the same. You don't want to be angry, you don't want people to think you're crazy, you just want the the things they do, and the way they respond to you to change. But for others to change around you, or towards you, they must first see that you've done the same. Don't be influenced, be the influence - those are the rules to the game. It's not about people fearing your face, it's about people respecting your name. Anger and hatred don't earn respect, it earns more of the same. Never fear you desire to love and be loved - Love is the only cure for pain.

I wouldn't tell you this, had I not experienced some of the same. Staying high to balance out my lo's, while sending brown liquor shots into my vein. When the bloodstream gets worm, the worries seem to fade, but when I became sober, the problems would always remain. I became drained. Consumed with the thought of chasing fame, when really I needed love, but chased the spotlight because the people LOVE fame. This was my claim and my lane. What's yours? Whatever it is, don't let anger substitute the real cure.

Love God, and learn to love yourself. There are others who want to learn as well. Waiting to love you for being the example on how to love, but you must first learn to do that which you'll one day tell. The world knows you're a man, don't spit fire when you want to shed tears. Don't become a baby, but don't let the thought of being less than a man become your fear. Tough never lasts.

The power is in the love. Love harder.

-Jermaine G.

#GentlemanTheory

Gentleman Rambles Pt. 2 Pray (2009)

I'm no drug dealer. I work a nine to five and own a small business. Hasn't produced millions thus far but still I am a man who believes in the grind.The grind that doesn't glorify the poisoning of my people with the same evils that once had me possessed, chasing the sequal to no success, hearing the devils every breath as he'd subliminally speak

"follow me, i'll lead you."

But I walked away. Pray that I stay away.

Shall we go deeper?

I'm no thug. Though i've often been cited in these streets. My persona remains so humble and meek, you'd think we knew one another forever apon our first meet and greet. These wars zones more like home, to an extent my comfort zone, leaving me feeling at times like i'm in too deep. So attached yet trying to escape these hostile environments most in need of love and peace. Running for my life from a life i've known since the day I could skip to my own beat. In love with the song vibrating club speakers, yet as I enter the club I see signs on the wall that read You'll soon be deceased. A wise man once told me

"Son you'll never be able to blow out the lights in the streets. You'll die trying but they'll continue to shine as your soul sleeps."

Still temptation taunts me as I approach the end of the work week. With that said I ask that your prayer for me be.............................................That I stay away.

Shall we go deeper?

I'm no pimp. I dont even like lobster & shrimp. hah. The lust of my eye however still has a thing for the way she moves her hips. The lust of my flesh still evident at times with what proceeds from my lips as I express to her the satisfaction i'd take in giving her body a kiss. The pride of life still at times has me feeling like im the shhhhh!! Easy to find that prize at the bar. No ribbon, just her waiting, oh and a few hennesy sips. Can't help but to laugh at the devil and his tricks. Trying to make me the trick. You see I buy her a drink, she gives me the goods, that's me paying for a service which makes her a prostitute, and me a TRICK. This the reason as of late i've let the hennesey sit. Stearing away from locations where many single women sip. You see, even alcohol free you can be drunk in lust, and with one of those women I may want to sit. So instead I SIT! .............at home with my pen and my pad. If not home, front and center in church with the best friend i've ever had. I sense the devil getting mad, more and more with each day. Trying to test my loyalty to my God with the women he throws my way. No one is all work and no play. So I may throw a word or two their way. But my heart is locked and being prepaired for the one Jesus has for me one day. With that said I ask that you just...............................just pray.


Jermaine G.

#GentlemanTheory

Gentleman Rambles Pt. 1 - Reflection

Cold world we live in. Many hurt but nobody wanting to face the man in the mirror to address the pain. Everybody lovey dovey when its sunny, but gossiping about each other when it rains.

Women too cute to be courted, men too thug for sincerity. Real just isn't real anymore apparently.

But who I am to judge? I continue to love. Fear no man but God, and yeah some of my patnas are still thugs. Still they respect the G in me.The God that is. Why? B/c I'm an individual. Tried to dip back into the old me, but the new me refused to be hypocritical..Reality struck, saying

"you're no longer street, you're now spiritual, and the very steps you take in life or now pivotal. Be an example to those who don't know how to walk. Even watch your associations, because you're now an example on how to talk. Everything you do from here on out is no longer in the dark. Which means 100 rights wont prevent that 1 wrong from being outlined in chalk."

And so I..................And I so walk. Accepting that which I've been chosen to be. Understanding life isn't about pleasing others, but about pleasing HE who created me.

Be you. Everyone else is taken. Isn't that how it goes? Forget what you're talking, your footsteps are where it shows. My fellow man, quit planting the seed if you're not prepared to water it and watch it grow. So what you got a little cash flow, vip access is nothing to a boss, and there's innocent blood shed for those diamonds that glow. We say we're keeping it real, but really it's all for show. We downgrade our sistas, admiring them for being real bitches, all the while treating them like real hoes...Oh and news flash sweetheart; You don't have to be having sex to be considered a hoe. It's not the act, it's the spirit on you that attracts the

"wussup shawty, aye sexy, spppphh, and ayo!"

Dress the part, and the role is yours.

I say nothing to chop you down, everything to let you know you don't have to be a whore. But understand that a man can only buy that which you have for sale in your store. Countless hours you spend enhancing the mirror image, while expecting that very man to look at you and see more. Are you sure? Not to mention this status game. Foolish pride on which our culture thrives, has everbody making false claims to fame. Sweetheart, don't fall victim to the game. I'm just saying.....Red bottoms don't make you special, a few racks don't make me anything either. Vixens are overrated, the virtuous are keepers...Pull your dress down, step your mind up. And whatever you do, cherish ya temple, quit giving ya wine up. Intoxicating lust, work-out type thrusts, less than an hour could change your whole life and it might not be worth all that, TRUST.

We're all grown though, so by all means, have it your way. Whether man or woman, we're all gonna do what we want to do at the end of the day. Taking that into consideration, all fingers should only be pointed one way...At your reflection.

Too much pointing in the wrong directions. Is it really her fault that you cant control your erections? And how bout you sweetheart? You pretend to be in dier need of affection. Painting this picture of Mr. Ideal, but dating only those who are simply a spitting image of who? Your reflection...Quick to tell us Mr. Ideal doesn't exist, which stands true for you if the saying insists...You attract what's in you..That which you say is missing in men is exactly what's missing within..As for us fellas, we simply have a hard time giving in..To what? To the fact that we can no longer act as boys once we become men.

Fly clothes and nice cars, feeding our selfish pride. Thinking we're more than what we are, inviting the souls of lost women along for the ride...Why not do as a man should and provide? Be the light to her darkness and open up her eyes? Is that not cool enough or real enough in your book? Oh I get it..Being that type of man wont get us the woman with the beyonce type of look. Forget the cover of the book. Think about what you need. Because you see i've learned that most of these wonderful covers are terrible reads. Unless ofcoarse they've been drawn to the light by the decent man you have the potential to be...Keeping it G has nothing to do with staying in streets, but taking what you've learned and adapting to every tribulation you meet. Composure unfased, demenor at ease. There's a high to balance out every low without blowing a single tree. It's called belief...

And I only say all of this to say...That being who God wants you to be versus who the world wants you to be is a matter of life and death. No, really! You gotta look at it that way. A work in progress is what you witness in the theories on my wall everday. I share with you not for popularity, not to judge, but because I care for your progression as well, and regardless of what you do....I'ma love you anyway.

Reflect.

Jermaine G.

#GentlemanTheory