Brooklyn...Arghhhh

Danjaruz Depiction:


Daily Danjaruz Deliberation:
Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at?

If it wasn't for the Bronx, this rap shit prolly never would be going on, so tell me where you from??!!!! UPTOWN BABY!!! UPTOWN BABY!!!

Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:
Yanno, I dont DO Brooklyn. For all the shouting and hollaring, I never understood the big damn deal. I mean it is just another borough that is too damn big for its own good. NOw see the Bronx is nicely nestled in the northern part of New York City, minding its business, holding NY down. But Brooklyn??? Nothing but a Little West Indies. How many of you have your papers??!!! LOL

Anyway, I have been spending more time out there, even taking the train. I am still not convinced that there is anything special about Brooklyn, Im just randomly blogging about it to piss someone off!!

Brooklyn SUCKS!!!! BRONX stand up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When the Bronx is in the house, oh my God, DANJA!!!!!

Danjaruz Haiku:
Home of Biggie Smalls
That's all yall can really say
Brooklyn sucks big balls

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Daily Danjaruz Deliberation:
Part 1:
Even though I try, I can't let go
Something in your eyes captured my soul...

Part 2:
I can't pretend these tears
Aren't over flowing steadily
I can't prevent this hurt from
Almost overtaking me
But I will stand and say goodbye
For you'll never be mine....

Part 3:
Must be strangely exciting to watch the stoic squirm


Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:
Sometimes, you just have to let go. This month, I have held in so many things that the other day, I burst.

There are those times in life that we all go through; the times when it seems that it is pouring rains of grief and strife. No end in sight. Day after day, more bad news. This has been one of those times in my life.

Rather than deal with each blow as it came, I ignored my issues and continued on in life, doing what everyone expects of me; I pretended to be strong. I held my head up and walked around like a trooper, believing that everything would pass in time. Indeed it all does, but that does not mean that I had no need to deal with things, let emotions out, and grieve. Ever attempting to present the face of a strong, independent, wonderful Black woman, I put on a happy face and kept moving.

Even the stoic squirm...

I broke. I reverted back to my high school and college days of escaping and avoiding my demons by drowning myself in the depths of cheap alcohol. See, back in the day, I had a problem with alcohol. I turned to it to comfort me. Southern Comfort is no joke. I once drank and entire bottle, blacking out, acting the fool, losing my mind. Then there was the time I was so drunk that I fell into the wall so hard that I left a hole in it. I also ripped the door off of my closet that night too. Alcohol did give me SOME type of strength. I woke up needing it to get out of bed and I could not sleep unless I had a shot of something hard or a glass of something soft.

Last night, I was in college again. I sat at the bar, ordered my drinks lined up, and with each glass, I silenced a demon. At least for a few hours. Not only did I make a complete ass of myself, I ended up having to face every demon, every issue all at one time. Completely overwhelmed and unable to handle it, I sought comfort from someone, someone I thought cared about me. Instead, I met a cold, hard wall. This is my life.

I do not have someone to tell me everything will be alright. I do not have someone to hold me, stroke my hair, and tell me that I am safe. I do not have anyone in whose neck I can bury my tear-stained face, as my shoulders shake from the force of the cry ripping through me. All I have is myself and my words. These days, I understand that alcohol isnt my friend, no is Alcohol a man in whom I can seek supoprt and solace. I know now that I only have ME and my WORDS. As long as I can get it out, I should be ok.

I am learning how to be honest with myself. I find that I am more honest with others than I am with myself. I hurt last night. After being turned away and rejected by someone very dear to me, I realized that I am not unbreakable. In fact, I am quite fragile. In some ways, I seek validation from other people whereas I tell people that is something they should never do.

I continue to care about people, with complete passion and intensity. I continue to empathize with them, through whatever is going on in their lives. I come to love the good that I see in people, even when they cannot see that good inside of themselves. I love the beauty that exists in everyone I come to know. I am drawn to this beauty. I guess in loving the beauty, I ignore the bad parts. I forget that people feel pain and hurt, and that people can inflict pain and cause hurt. I forget that I, too, can both feel and cause pain and hurt.

I hurt someone last night and in kind, I was hurt. It goes back and forth, I am understanding. With all pain, though, comes reprieve. So now that I got this off of my chest, I am going to retreat back to the warmth of my reprieve....

Danjaruz Haiku:
Pain is love is pain
I hurt you hurt me and we
Do it all again

Epitome of Strength and Endurance

Daily Danjaruz Deliberation:
See, when I get the strength to leave
You always tell me that you need me
And I'm weak cause I believe you
And I'm mad because I love you
So I stop and think that maybe
You can learn to appreciate me
Then it all remains the same that
You ain't never gonna change

Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:
I have to get this out.

I once loved a man who used to love me with his fists. I still believe to this day that he did love me. Sounds twisted? It does to me too, and I lived it.

I do not think that all abusive partners are void of feelings. In fact, it takes a lot of emotion (anger, rage, etc) to physically/mentally/emotionally hurt someone close to you. I believe that many abusers love the people they abuse, but due to conflicts and unresolved issues buried inside, they cannot come to terms with this love, and they have no self-control. Whether brought on by substance abuse (alcohol, drugs) or brought on by unchecked anger issues or simply brought on by an unconscious need for control, abuse is not black and white simple. It is a complex phenomenon and people on the outside, looking in, ought to be more mindful and understanding of that.

I met him when I was 16. Most people would say I knew nothing of love then, but I know that I did. In fact, I knew more about it than a lot of people older than me. I craved it, having felt that it was lacking in my life. I needed to belong to someone, be needed by someone, rest comfortably in the protective loving embrace of someone who was as passionate as I was. He was considerably older than I was. I later found out he initially believed I was at least 21. But when he realized my age, he continued to see me, and I later felt that he should have shown more control. I also realized that he needed a 16 year old to control.

I had a lot of firsts with him. I gave him my virginity. He was the first man I ever loved. In being with him, I lied to my parents. I gave him my money. I did everything he asked me to because he told me that if I truly loved him, I would do all of these things willingly. My ideas of love until this point pretty much coincided with what he said; if you love someone, you will do anything they ask. It was around this time that I also became in touch with my submissive side. I began to realize that when it comes to men and relationships (especially in sex), I prefer to take the submissive role. He knew this, and he preyed on it.

We shared the same birthday, April 6, so we are both Aries. Truly Alpha Aries at that. There was a lot of fire and passion, in everything we did. Eating, conversation, sex, loving, hating, longing... so much passion and intensity. Lot of power in the punches too.

I was away at school, so I had very little chance to see him. I would sneak home on the weekends, while my parents thought I was at school, and I would go see him. We would spend time in his home, because we couldnt risk being seen in public. He expected me to stay home, cook for him, have sex with him, and basically take care of him. I realized later that he needed this so much because his mother never did any of this for him. In fact, he and his mother hated each other with terrible passion. One of his many issues.

Time went by and things fell apart, to say the least. Of course I found out that he was seeing other women. My nose was open for him, and I was young, so it hurt so much. Emotionally, he had a hold on me, and I didnt know how to cope without him being there, guiding me or molding me. in school, I was in charge of everything, running clubs, involved everywhere, very well-known on campus. My private life, however, was in shambles. One day, we just ended it.

I met him again when I was 19. I had decided to take a year off before beginning college, for real, and we ran into each other on the train. I fell back into the same trap, except this time, he wasnt working and really struggling in life. Everything he had before, the co-op, the car, the job all gone. It was karma of course, but he wouldnt acknowledge it. He blamed everyone but himself. And yes, he took his frustrations and anger out on me. This was when he became physical. He hardly hit me in my face because that would leave marks. I do however, still have a slight scar on my face from when he pushed me face first into a rug and raped me because he said I was not making enough money for his liking.

At the time, I did not consider it rape. I mean, he loved me right? He was my man right? But I didnt want to have sex with him, and he did it anyway. That, I have learned is rape. This type of thing happened often. My naturally submissive nature did not recognize his actions as abuse. At the time, I was beginning to grow my locs, and he would pull at them from the roots, almost pulling them out of my scalp. Shit hurt like hell. He would laugh, like it was funny. He often laughed at my tears. He then began to tell me I need to lose weight. At first he loved me for being a bigger woman, but eventually, I became a lazy fat-ass. He felt that sicne I wouldnt exercise, he would fuck the fat off of me. I never understood how jamming a penis down someone's throat would make them lose weight, but that seemed to be his favorite thing. He would smack my face so hard and laugh when tears came. He used to love to pinch the fatty parts of my body. One time he pinched me so tight, the skin gave way and ended up on his finger nails. He apologized for it, kissed me of course, tended to the wound, held me in his arms, stroked my hair, and told me I was his baby girl and would ask if I knew how much he loved me. I would agree in the positive and that would be that.

When I would say I had to go home, he would always go into a long speech about how everyone always wanted to leave him. He couldnt understand why I wouldnt move in with him. I lated realize, he just wanted easier access to my money. He was already getting half of everything I made, but then he upped it to taking my entire check, and giving me an allowance. We continued our relationship to when I got to college. My new friends had no idea that the man I introduced them too at a party would later take off his belt and beat me senseless with it because he said he didnt want me associating with white people. The next day he left to go home, and I called him on the cell phone I bought him, telling him I couldnt be with him anymore. he got off the train, came back to Philadelphia, claiming he wanted to talk, and for the first time ever, he punched me dead in my mouth. He told me to think about what I was saying, while my mouth healed.

I called him a week later and told him that I couldnt see him anymore. Not because I didnt love or need him, but simply because I needed to focus on school. Amazingly he seemed to accept this as a good reason and agreed. I would not stop thinking about him every day until my 23rd birthday. I would see him again only once, but he did not see me. I have not stopped loving him.

I write this long post to say, Danja is working on some things. Since being with him, I have experienced a lot of different men, different situations, different emotions, different experiences. In every situation, I have learned at least one new thing about myself and at least one new thing about men. I have had terrible and wodnerful experiences since knowing him. One thing remains the same. I still love hard, and I still aim to please my man. But now, I am a stronger woman. I am still vulnerable, and still have some insecurities, but the biggest, baddest, and boldest of us all do. Each day, I work on ME. I work on building my esteem, my confidence, my control, my life. I try to make wise decisions. I work on not falling into the same traps.

Unfortunately, it is easier said than done. Every now and then I slip and fall or I can feel myself repeating the same patterns of action or emotion. I can feel myself losing control and feeling helpless. I know that I will never stay with another man who strikes me in anger or emotionally destroys me. I know that things will be on my terms and in my strength.

I run, fast, at the first sign of danger. Any little things that seem like clues to what might come, I pay close attention to. There are warning signs, triggers, little things a man can do that send up red flags. So I bounce, quickly. Sometimes too quickly, but that is the chance I take.

Imma be alright though...



Danjaruz Haiku:
You beat my body
But my spirit still lives on
I am not broken

R.I.P. Dirt McGirt

Danjaruz Depiction:


Daily Danjaruz Deliberation:
Oooh baby, I like it rawwwwwwww!
Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:

Death never takes a day off from His job. He works twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and at least 365 days a year. There is no avoiding Death once he lays claim to your soul. Try as we might, we cannot negotiate our time here on this Earth. Death removes our souls from Earth, transporting us to our eternal dwelling place. He claims us as His own, at His will, by His method of choice. Death’s latest minion: Russell Jones a.k.a. Ol’ Dirty Bastard a.k.a. Dir McGirt a.k.a. Big Baby Jesus a.k.a. Osiris a.k.a. Father a.k.a. Husband a.k.a Brother a.k.a. Son.

His brother in Hip-Hop, RZA, referred to him as a “unique soul” in his eulogy, delivered at his funeral on November 18, 2004. That is one of the greatest understatements in Hip-Hop history. Not only was ODB one of the most unique MCs to ever spit on wax, he was also one of the most honest MCs. Too often, especially in this post-bling era of Hip-Hop glitterati, MCs tell tales of life that they cannot relate to, having never experienced them. It is as though these so-called “artists” convened one day, maybe seven or eight years ago, and decided to share a meal. EPMD warned us of this Crossover Meal, yet their warnings fell upon deaf ears. At this meal, these “artists” drank Bling-Bling wine, and dined on a dinner of Chicken Shit salad, a few Apathy appetizers, Sell-Out soup, and a for the main course: Main Stream Madness. By the truest Dirty design, Big Baby Jesus missed the meal, more than likely making a baby somewhere. How thankful are we for this mishap? Had he sat down with these people, we would have never known that Big Baby Jesus simply could not wait to explode onto the Hip-Hop scene with his unusual style of making us laugh and think at the same time. The MTV generation might have never witnessed the rite of inner-city passage that is cashing a public assistance check. The WuTang Clan might never have had such mass appeal, because as we can gather by the current climate, variety is the spice of Hip-Hop life. In this time of Hip-Hop/R&B collaborations, Hip-Hop/Country duets, Hip-Hop actors/actresses, diversity is key. As Dirt informed Mariah Carey, he was a little bit of all of this and this is why we loved him.

Yes, he had brushes with the law. Yes, he could be considered a complete nut case. Yes, he pimped the “system” until they caught onto him. But we’d be damned if we did not love the gonads he so willingly put on display while bucking the same system and letting America know: Ol’ Dirty Dog was no liar. He never attempted to hide his imperfections; in fact, he wanted everyone to share in his life’s adventures. How many of your friends willingly share their STD experiences? Did you not feel a special closeness to Russell then? I mean, did you not think, “Yo, Dirt is CRAZY!!!” And did you not laugh, and guiltily relate, every time he shouted, “Ooooh baby, I like it rawwwww”? We recognized that he was indeed a fool, and we loved him.

Artists do not compromise. Artists remain true to their calling, their natural form, and they maintain loyal to the muse that inspires them. For most, it is their lives and experiences in them. For others, money is the motivator. Because of the diversity in motives, Hip-Hop has become a mess. Yes, Virginia, Hip-Hop is a mess. Reporting the realities of the Street is no longer a priority. People would rather have a danceable beat than listen to rebellious lyrics. Young people prefer to hear the stories of the lifestyles of their favorite rich and famous rapper than the gutter tales of the local Hip-Hop griot. Honestly, who can blame them? In this country’s political climate, in the world’s political and social chaos, young people crave and seek positive hope. They look for something to strive for. They are not particularly interested in hearing gritty accounts of what they already know; it is depressing to say the least.

This is why artists like ODB are important to Hip-Hop culture. ODB was that uncle who could tell the story about losing his leg in the Vietnam War that would make everyone within earshot laugh heartily at his light-hearted tale. ODB would more than likely take his prosthetic leg off and wave it around. He softened the blow, somehow, and gave us a way to think about life in a not-so-serious way, as many disenfranchised people are forced to do day in and day out. To say the least, he was the ‘hood’s comic relief. This is not to say that Russell Jones was an innocent bystander, life gone too soon, before his time. We have heard the stories of his drug abuse, his arrests and prison stints. We have heard the stories about having various children, no concrete number, just a lot of them with a lot of ladies. We know that Dirt McGirt was no angel. Yet, just as he has nothing angelic about him, we felt familiar with him and his life. As consumers of his art, we grew to know a lot about ODB, and this is yet another beautiful thing about Hip-Hop music and the greater Hip-Hop culture: identification. Hip-Hop, as a culture, has existed longer than the 25 (or 30) years that mainstream media will give it credit for. Hip-Hop music grew out of this culture’s desire to express itself, complete with angst, joy, depression, desperation, and hope. The times have changed; no one can deny this fact. However, it is naïve to suggest that the images and ideals pushed through Hip-Hop music in the new millennium are representative of the collective Hip-Hop community.

Gone are the Ole Dirty Bastards, which have been replaced by the New So Fresh, So Clean Hood Social Elite. Millionairres flossing button-downs, retiring in their 30s like their dot-commer peers, wearing laymen’s yearly salaries on their wrists and teeth, and living like it is all good. For a small number, it really is all good. But for Russell Jones’ children and other children like them, the reality is harsh. The reality is that there is still struggle in the hood, and Hip-Hop artists are obligated to tell the stories and bring light to the strife. Let the entertainers ignore the problems, dance around in shiny and expensive suits and make people dance. Their jobs are to entertain the masses. Let us reflect on the lives of our fallen Hip-Hop icons and legends and allow Hip-Hop (the culture and the music) to resurrect Truth. Truth is the light my people and right now, Hip-Hop exists in darkness. Peace Russell.

Claim Me

Daily Danjaruz Deliberation: It's funny how EMOTIONS change a situation. Miscommunication leads to complications.

Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:
*singing* I love you, you love me, we're a happy family, cuz I love him too, and that one is good too, and well they return the feelings and then there is him, and him, and him...

Need to stop singing because I could go on all day. What exactly do I want? I do not know. I am finally admitting it to myself and the world: Michelle does not know what she wants to do with her "love" life!

I honestly believe I am waiting for some special man to come and claim me, make me settle down, make me calm down, tell me that I have to be his and that we have to make this "thing" happen. See, I guess I have learned from past experiences that when men are ready, they are ready. Nothing we, as women or men-loving-men, do will change this fact. This is why I am against women askig men to marry them. I honestly believe that a woman will be ready to get married long before the man she is involved with is ready. Therefor, when a man asks a woman to marry her, the chances are, he is as ready as he will ever be and by taking the steps to buy the ring, get up the nerves, and follow through with the asking, he is more than likely showing his readiness.

This is not to say that men make mistakes and really arent ready. Im just throwing it out there. So Im thinking the same trickles down for relationships, commitments, "friendships" and the like. Why should I seek something in someone they are not willing or ready to give. Even more important, something I am not sure I even want or am ready for?

Little known fact about Danja: I need an aggressive, dominant man. As big as my mouth is, as opinionated as I am, as strong as I am, as independent as I am, and as capable as I am of being able to sustain my life on my own, nothing suits me better than a put-your-foot-down, dominant, take charge, wear-the-pants kind of man!! Damn IM getting excited just thinking about it.

This is not to say I lose any of my strength or personality when involved with one. I just have certain views about the roles of men and women when it comes to relationships. I wont exactly get into those right now, but they have a lot to do with my current dating. I see a lot of people because not one has taken the stance to make me stop. Its really that simple.

They might suggest they would like to be the only one I am seeing, or they might hint at a possible future, but not a single one has stepped up to make that claim. See the man I want to be with would not tolerate this, oddly enough. The man I want to be with is the man who tells me he is NOT cool with me seeing other men and that he wants me for himself.

And I believe that when said man comes along, he will do just that. He wont be content to see me when he can, grab small patches of my time. He will demand that I stop seeing others because he wants me for his own. Since none of them do it, they must not be that one. *sigh*

At least I am having fun in the meantime *wink*

Danjaruz Haiku:
Make me your woman
Claim me, own me, make me yours
You need as I need

Sidebar

Danjaruz Depiction:
No words, pictures, anything to describe this shit...whewwwww

Daily Danjaruz Deliberation:
How'd you do it? How did you get me so open? Made me do it. Got me fiending, got me jonesing... Oh, your kisses! They're so rich and chocolate coated, taste like Reese's...As close to heaven as I'm gonna get.

Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:

Your mind compelled me. Interestingly enough, I thought nothing of you. You had other plans, dreams of my submission. I might wonder why, how, who, all for naught because you compelled me to forget my questions by providing the answers in advance. You had me, for 3:58... you had me then. I write now, right now, stuck on sublime submission, knowing not what to say to convey these butterflies in my mind, stomach, heart...

"Frustration" is the word of the week. Maybe not "frustration", but in seeking words to describe you, frustration is the result, as this task is nearly impossible, as is resisting you, did I say that? "What is going on?" I must have asked myself every hour, on the hour, since the hours you spent seizing me. I want you gone, but I'm afraid if you leave, I will come undone.

I crawl walls, scratch and grasp for escape but you prey on me like a famished wolf. You crave succulent fare and I secrete the only the finest juices, inspired and induced by your need and hunger for me. Ahhhh damnnnn, I tilt my head to the left side, knowing you prefer the right side of my neck. Don't mark me, baby, ok...wait...shit...do it...mark me... claim me, mmmhhmmmm that's it, growl in my ear... yes... right there, say those things...speak those gazms...

what did you just do to me? I back away, afraid of wanting more, terrified of needing more from you, and not being able to have it 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, 13 months a year. Can I never quiver for you? Can my body not quake? I cvant eben tyupwe thjids ... reminiscing on that night you made me your babygirl...

Damn, daddy, what you do to me....


*breatheeeee*


Danjaruz Haiku:
Oh, yes, that is it
Do that thing you do so well
Mmmm, yes, make me come...

Emotional RollerCoaster

Danjaruz Depiction:


Daily Danjaruz Deliberation:Sang it Vivian!!!!

Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:
Two weeks of hell. It all began when Hassan was killed. I still do not know how to process it. How does one come to terms with the life of a 30 year old father being removed from earth too soon? How does one deal with knowing that two days before, you were shooting the shit with him, laughing, making jokes, hugging, talking about some plans for next week? Couldn't go to the wake. Couldnt face family. Couldn't deal with funeral arrangements. Laid in the cut waiting for the pain to drop. Still waiting...

Then, in one of the most random ways, I found out that the man I gave a year of my life to had cheated on me. I broke up with him because I felt that we were emotionally disconnected, and had been for some time. I thought maybe it was my fault, maybe I was a hassle or maybe I wasnt a good enough woman. In fact, he had me thinking I was a source of aggravation for him; he had me thinking I was paranoid. I questioned myself as a woman, thinking maybe I wasnt as good a woman as I thought I was. The entire time I was RIGHT. He had cheated on me, not too long after my birthday. And I KNEW it!!! Some people don't understand why some people question my outrage. They say, "Well you already broke up with him, why are you stressing?" If only things were that simple.

He had me question and doubt myself. He challenged my views on the great person I am. With his own cheating actions, he compromised my view of myself, by acting out towards me, and withdrawing from me, seemingly with no reason. It hurt me deep to know that I was right, yet someone had me believing that I was wrong. It hurt me deep that the ONE person no one would EVER imagine to be a cheater, turned out to be just that. All of the talk about being different, being a man of the church, being the perfect gentleman... All of that bullshit and lies. I dealt with living in an emotionally void relationship. I suffered through HORRIBLE sex with a very insecure man and remained faithful. I remained in a relationship with someone who has some of the most warped views and values, that I often questioned if he was Black or if he just had a dark tan. I remained loyal to someone who didnt deserve my love, loyalty, or respect. I fell in love with his family. My family loved him. Everything seemed so neat and perfect, and he threw it all away for one night of very WEAK sex.

Im ok now. I wasnt exactly hurt about the cheating. I was moreso suffering a bruised ego. I think it was more of a shock like "How dare YOU? You weak dick, 30 second lasting, lying bitch!!!! How dare YOu cheat on fabulous ME???" Well, it was to be expected. He is a dick, deacon or not, he is a dick. I was sooooo relieved to be out of the relationship, because, as is my nature, I got bored with him. I mean I realized towards the end, after months of disconnection and a few weak sexual encounters, I didnt want to be there anymore. I realized that he was a slob, a real pig, who didnt know the meaning of cleaning. I realized he had no care at all about his personal appearance. I realized that the only good he was to me was financial, and after a while, even that was lacking. Why was I bothering? So I left him.
I found all of this out afterwards. And it was something I wish I had not found out. But then I might have continued on, thinking I was wrong, thinking I was to blame, for being shallow, for finding faults. None of this would have happened had he honored our relationship.

So now, I am dating again. There are a lot of beautiful men out there. I am in lvoe with the male species. I do not have a problem dating. The only issue is that I cannot be in a relationship. At least not now. It isnt my time. How do I tell these beautiful men that Im enjoying myself, enjoying their company, but that I cannot do the relationship thing? it is so hard. Some men want me as their woman. some want me as a regular sex partner. Some want to be able to say they had/have me, like I am a trophy. In the end, I still go to bed by myself at night. The holidays are coming and I will spend them alone, as usual. No one to get me gifts, no one to take me to their family dinner. No one to hold at night in the cold. As usual....


Danjaruz Haiku:
Delicate woman
Epitome of Beauty
alone and lonely

Heavenly Pantoum

Daily Danjaruz Deliberation: If I am going to teach them, I ought to know what I'm talking about. I am experimenting with form folks, bear with me. "I'm an artist, and I'm sensitive about my shit"

Danjaruz Pantoum:
I believed God turned His back on me
It all began when I was eleven
I struggled with members of my family
While He silently watched from heaven

It began when I was eleven
That I slowly began to lose my mind
While He silently watched from heaven
My whole sense of being began to unwind

I slowly began to lose my mind
I wanted nothing more than to die
My whole sense of being began to unwind
When I woke up each morning, I would cry

I wanted nothing more than to die
One day I decided to run away
When I woke up each morning, I would cry
I decided my life should not be that way

One day I decided to run away
Seeking refuge in any place but home
I decided my life should not be that way
I knew I would be better off alone

Seeking refuge in any place but home
No longer trusting in God and the lies
I knew I would be better off alone
It was God I began to despise

I no longer trusted in God and His lies
I asked “How could you let this happen to me?”
It was my God who I began to despise
It was as if He left me alone…He simply let me be

I asked “How could you let this happen to me?”
No child deserves such pain and suffering
It was as if He left me alone…simply leaving me be
All I needed was love, peace, and comforting

No child deserves such pain and suffering
In that suffering, I was blind to the light
All I needed was love, peace, and comforting
And deliverance from my tortured plight


In that suffering, I was blinded by the light
He decided to rescue and save me from darkness
He delivered me from my tortured plight
I understood then, that my existence was never meaningless

He decided to rescue and save me from darkness
God has a plan for me in His world
I know now that my existence was never meaningless
I am a faithful woman, gone is the tortured girl

God has a plan for me in His world
I no longer struggle with my family
I am a woman of faith, no longer a tortured girl
Who believed God turned His back on me…

United We Fall

Danjaruz Depiction:


Daily Danjaruz Deliberation: If only this country were "One"

Danjaruz Disclosures, Declarations, and Diatribes:

I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me

Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up, I cannot see
That there's not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now

Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, wake me

Back in the womb it's much too real
In pumps life that I must feel
But can't look forward to reveal
Look to the time when I'll live

Fed through the tube that sticks in me
Just like a wartime novelty
Tied to machines that make me be
Cut this life off from me

Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, wake me

Now the world is gone, I'm just one
Oh God, help me
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, help me

Darkness imprisoning me
All that I see
Absolute horror
I cannot live
I cannot die
Trapped in myself
Body my holding cell

Landmine has taken my sight
Taken my speech
Taken my hearing
Taken my arms
Taken my legs
Taken my soul
Left me with life in hell




Danjaruz Tanka:
Here comes bin Laden
He told us he would kill us
When electing Bush
Did you think about your sons
Or the fact that you hate gays?