Sometimes Social Media Isn't Social

Sometimes social media isn’t social

It’s divisive and cruel

Lies and opinions

Like gasoline to fuel

No care for feelings

Lives or hearts 

No fact check?

They’d rather

Throw verbal darts

Sometimes social media isn’t social

It is pain-filled

And painful

Simply

Anti-social

Used to

Humiliate

Infiltrate

Underestimate

And obliterate

The truth

Peeping toms,

Peeping, then speaking,

Things they know little about

As if they are the authority

IN ALL CAPS

That virtual SHOUT

Sometimes

Social media

Doesn’t help

Getting together

It forces separation

Propagates

Proliferation

But every now and then

A post will make me smile,

or laugh

and celebrate the writer of

a poignant sentiment

Thank God,

A brief respite,

Heaven sent

I acknowledge then

It is the scribe that isn’t social

And they don’t even know it

No apologies forthcoming

No retractions

Just heroics

No one saves the day

Yet tomorrow, here we are again

To play

Among the thorns and roses

It’s the scribe that isn’t social

And they don’t even know it

Yet that innate need for social

Draws us back

Into the fray

Sometimes social media isn’t social

But we’re on it

Every day.

Mind Games

Lately, a number of people with strong spirits of intimidation, provocation and manipulation sought me out. I wondered why they tried to attach themselves to me. How would they benefit from controlling my soul? What was the ultimate purpose?

I noticed several similarities during these encounters. They all used words to try to instill fear, do emotional harm, and manipulate to impose their will. If I did not acquiesce, I was met with extreme anger. No. Rage would be a more appropriate description of their response to my resistance to being their puppet. 

Another thing they shared was an unrelenting attempt to keep me on the defensive. They did something wrong, but when challenged to take responsibility, quickly placed blame on the one they wronged.

I thought, "They are crazy." I am not speaking of the mentally ill. I have compassion for those who battle this disease. I am talking about people whose perspectives are so twisted, they are blind to their own truth. People who repeatedly ask you to hand them a knife, use it to stab you, then say, "Look what you made me do." 

Bewilderment  was my first response-  then came indignation. The audacity! "Keep your mind games. Quell your constant need to control. I see your efforts to manipulate. You've exposed yourself - like Madea - standing behind the screen door asking, 'You can see me?'  Yes! I see you!"

"You have come to the wrong individual. I am not the person you used to know. My spirit is strong against your attacks, yet my heart feels compassion. I wish you knew what you were missing. I wish you could understand. A life that is not whole is no life at all - and you are not whole."

I pray for you, but have no problem steering clear of individuals and environments which seek to infect my soul. I am soaring now - in this new season of my life. My spirit is free, and it feels good.