Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father Read online

  “And you know what?” Saint smiled. “Insecurity is actually a form of damage. So, that scenario I just painted is somewhat false. I actually presented a riddle. He was damaged too, just differently. There is something in men and women like this, where they feel the need to be defined by how much they help and heal others. What they fail to understand is that though this is somewhat admirable, the person on their gurney cannot be healed by their love—they have to be healed by their own admissions and self-improvement! Now, we as their mate can assist them, make things a bit easier—but that homework is theirs! We can’t do each other’s homework, because only we know the answers to our own tests! Let me give you an example, out of the pages of my own personal life.” He paused, and began to make his way across the stage again.

  “When I decided I wanted to get married, I knew what type of woman I was looking for.” He coughed into his closed fist and continued. “I knew I wasn’t shit, too.”

  The crowd bristled up in laughter.

  Saint grinned and stood in the middle of the stage, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m serious. I wasn’t shit. If I saw a Queen, and found her attractive, I’d step to her or many times, I didn’t have to say shit at all—they’d come to me.” He folded his arms across his chest and pointed a finger at himself. “I wanted to fuck. That was my main mission, my objective. Not to have a relationship, not to have a commitment, none of that. I had plenty of friends, didn’t need any more. No, I wanted to take her to a hotel room and bust them guts out. Period. Point mothafuckin’ blank. I didn’t lie about it. I told her what I wanted. I didn’t try to lure her with promises to be my woman, money, none of that. Now, I treated them nicely, the women I bedded. I was respectful, but I was only out for one thing, and that, within itself, is actually very disrespectful. It was a slap in the face to me and her, because I was operating on a lower vibration. I just didn’t connect the two at the time...”

  “I had been out in the world, having a ridiculous amount of sex. And over time, I realized that no matter how many women I had in my presence, I was lonely. I wanted a commitment. I was ready. But, I was also unclean. I’ve spoken of that aspect before, but I want to go deeper into that. I used contraceptives, protection, every single time I ever had sex until I met my Queen, my Bride. At that time, I made a conscious choice to forgo it, but by then, I’d already put in the work and got myself together. Before that, I was absolutely filthy. I am not talking about physically or sexually unclean. My hygiene has always been on point. I am a bit OCD about it, so taking care of my body and my health, I had that on lock. I am talking about something far different than that. I was spiritually unclean; I was damaged...but luckily not beyond repair.

  “I have had a lot of fucking sex.” He sucked his teeth as he thought about the endless stream of women. “I also had many damaged partners; they had to be damaged, to fuck with a cat like me.” He pointed to himself. “I told them I didn’t want a commitment, and they fucked me anyway. More times than not, they became attached to me, despite my announcement before I ever laid pipe and ate their pussy. By the way, not everybody got their pussy ate.” He cackled, causing the men to join him in laughter, “I decided on a case by case basis who was getting the tongue, because my shit is a deadly weapon! Most women can’t handle this!”

  More laughter bounced off the walls, music to his ears.

  “But anyway, I really should have been saving my dick, because my dick is more powerful! Physically, your dick is more powerful than your hands or your tongue and let me tell you why. That is what causes the woman’s body and spirit to attach to you! You have physically entered her, and you both can feel it at the same damn time. Your fingers and tongue get no pleasure when you are pleasing your mate. Now sure, you get off on her reactions. I damn well do, but the nerve endings on my fingers and tongue are not reacting to what she is doing and how she feels—only my mind is. When you fuck her,” his voice escalated, “it is a mutual exchange. My tongue just got her ready; my dick is what changed the entire fucking program! Sealed the damn deal! Your dick is a submarine, her pussy is the below sea level tunnel. You’re down there doing your thing, and you better not come back up until you really do look like you’ve been underwater—covered in that pussy juice, lips lookin’ like you ate a container of Vaseline with no hands...”

  Loud laughing burst throughout the room.

  “But anyway,” he said, growing serious again. “My past sexual partners became attached because of the connection they had with me, due to the energy. I was inside of them, tapped into them. I knew this as a spiritual person. I knew this as a teacher, a therapist—I knew this, but I had sex with them anyway. That only compounded the problem when I was pushing them away, and they were having a hard time letting go, because I had already programmed them to be mine! I already discussed how women become addicted to us, because their minds are wired to fuse love and sex together, while our minds are wired to fuse sex and money and sex and power together. This has been going on since the beginning of time, men...the beginning of time. It is spiritual prostitution and pimping. Our sexual encounters determine if we have an heir to our name.” He paused. “Reproduction, a pregnancy—that’s power, we did that! Now...back to the original topic here. When I was ready to meet my Queen, I had trouble finding her initially because even though I had detoxed, I hadn’t stopped having sex.

  “That was asking too much! I needed it, or at least I believed I did. I had to get clean in all arenas, so I pledged finally to become celibate, and you know why? My desire for her was stronger than my desire to fuck random pussy!” He held his hands out like a scale. “You have to weigh your options against what you want and make a sacrifice. Initially, I kept running into the wrong women, but, unlike some people, I couldn’t say all women were the same. I couldn’t blame the women as I searched for my Queen. No, no! You hear it all the time, ‘All men are dogs!’ That is the wrong message—it not only isn’t true, it actually says a lot about the person speaking. Since we attract who we are on a vibrational level, then that means that most of the women who keep meeting these dogs are on a lower vibration too…and men, you aren’t exempt! Some of you say the same bullshit. It goes for anyone who has ever said, ‘an entire gender, race of people or a group from a certain economic bracket ain’t shit!’”

  The room rang out in applause.

  “I tell the Goddesses this. It’s no secret! I tell it like it is because I am trying to save you time and trouble. When you are damaged, attracting impaired people, and then that relationship falls the fuck apart, don’t be surprised, goddamn it! You got what you are. Look in the mothafuckin’ mirror at yo’ shit! You drew that mothafucka to you!”

  Several men jumped to their feet and applauded.

  “And then the relationship after that, and the one after that, and it will keep happening, because you never healed. You never had time to be by your damned self. You just ran from relationship to relationship, without pondering on why you keep meeting the same fucked up mothafuckas or the same screwed up broads! You meet who you are! You heard me talk about opposites attract and may think I am contradicting myself. I’m not—I will get more into that later but opposites attract when we are on high vibrations, healed and well—we attract people who can help us, on a positive vibe, when that happens! If you meet your polar opposite in some regards, that is a good thing. It means you are evolving and need a teacher to help you get to the next phase. Like to some degree, my wife and I. We are different, yet the same. We balance each other out, yin and yang. She teaches me my lessons, and I teach her hers, but we still must do our own homework. Anyway, back to this.” He cleared his throat as the audience simmered to a dull drone.

  “We are mere mirrors of one another. No woman in her right mind would want to fuck with me like I was. Once I got my shit together, beautiful women who had their shit together, too, came out of the goddamn woodwork. The kind of women I wanted to date, make a commitment to, but I had a sense about it, men. Not all men w
ill but I still knew they weren’t her; and there was nothing wrong with these women! Intelligent, spiritually together, drop-dead mothafuckin’ gorgeous! Something told me,” Saint squinted his eyes as the light illuminated his form, “something said to me, when you see her, you will want to fuck her right there in public.”

  Another burst of laughter and sporadic applause broke out.

  “Now, I am a nympho, okay, but I do have some self-control.” He laughed lightly as he began to pace the stage again. “I didn’t go up to a woman and say, ‘Hey, how ya doin’?’ then hump her to death.”

  Saint paused and laughed louder, causing even more laughter to erupt. “That...that is just too much.” He tried to control his own amusement, reign it in. “But when I saw my wife, and thank God she isn’t here tonight to hear this,” he snickered, “though I know she knows by now, all I could do was think about how I wanted to lay her across that damn desk she was sitting at, with all those little radio knobs ’nd shit, and fuck the shit out of her...on air, so everyone in the damn country could hear it!”

  Some catcalls and whistles ensued.

  “That’s so wrong.” He waved his hand lazily around as he continued to laugh. “It was a primitive urge, from the depths of my damn loins.” He pointed to his chest. “I remember it like it was yesterday. It was like the whole damn world disappeared. All of my senses went into overdrive. I could smell her perfume; I noticed every little thing about her. I remember what she had on, clear as a bell, ’til this day! She had her nose ring, a little diamond stud. She rarely wears it now, and I found that so damn sexy but I remember all of that, and how I loved it.” He paused as he quietly reflected. “I loved everything about her because I was so fuckin’ attracted to her, it was just insane. I had never been that drawn to a woman before, ever...” He raised his hand up as if he was being sworn in. “And I had literally just walked into the room and laid eyes on her. It was my very first time seeing her in person. I looked at her.” He paused, a smile spread across his face. He shook his head, reliving the moment. His heart skipped beats as he fell into the instant, the memory tangible, with beautiful layers of sweet emotions. “And that was it.”

  Sporadic applause and more whistling rang out.

  “She got me, man.” He grinned. “I was done for. For the first time, I had to believe the myth because it had happened to me, of all people.” His fingertips danced gently along his left collarbone. “It was love at first sight. I can honestly tell you, I fell in love with my wife the very first time I laid eyes on her.”

  Applause broke out.

  “I felt like a wild animal. I really did because she pulled that out of me, she made me vibrate from my lowest chakra, all the way to the seventh one in a matter of seconds, and I hadn’t even kissed her yet. And the fucked up part is that even after she talked to me,” he burst out laughing, causing more applause and laughter, “even after that woman talked to me like some shit on the bottom of her damn shoe during our first meeting, I know y’all heard about that...she tried to play me, man! Talked real slick!”

  The room was alive with chatter, applause and wide grins.

  “Y’all should have heard, it was brutal. Talked about my mama, yo! Just low blows! She hit below the belt and I came right back after her ass, but she tried to hold her own.” He laughed louder. “My wife is a verbal combatant! Evil ass little woman...” He jested.

  Now the crowd was really stirred, hanging on to every word.

  “She tried to cut my balls off and hand ’em to me for dinner, and make me say, ‘Thank you for the pleasure of being castrated.’” Saint burst out laughing so loud, he had to pause and catch his breath. “She...she was horrible to me, a maniacal person who hated my fucking guts and I loved every damn minute of it!”

  There wasn’t one man in the audience who was not cracking up.

  “Even after all of that, I still wanted her. She made me want her. That’s how I knew she was the one!”

  Clapping vibrated and echoed throughout the auditorium.

  “None of us will have the exact same experience, but that was mine. I needed a challenge. I needed a woman to get my blood boiling. She told me off, and that excited me. I didn’t need the shit to drag out. She let me see what she was capable of, and that was enough. The harsher she was, the harder my dick got.”

  He grinned as he heard pockets of laughter spilling forth.

  “No, seriously, I’m half kidding, I still would have wanted her even if she’d been very nice to me,” he said quietly and sincerely. “But what that told me gentlemen, her behavior, was that I had a situation on my hands. I was going to have some trials with her.”

  The audience quieted down once again and listened.

  “I understood that after what happened. My wife wasn’t what I would necessarily classify as damaged. She had been at various times in her life, as we all have, but at that point when I met her, there was no rescuing needed. She wasn’t in love with anyone at the time. She was dating on and off; there was nothing exclusive going on and she didn’t have a messed up ideology about men, even though, like many Queens, she’d been done wrong, dead wrong. She had some baggage, yet she wasn’t bitter, and that was key.” He narrowed his eyes. “She was open to receiving a new mate. She may not have totally realized it, but she was or she wouldn’t have attracted me to her, and vice versa. I was looking for my Queen. My energy was clear and women that didn’t match that criteria, I would not be attracted to anymore once I got into my celibacy and stayed the path. I wanted my wife on a spiritual, emotional, sexual and mental level. I wanted to connect with her on all of those planes. I needed her—you understand me? I needed that woman like we need air.” He made his way back toward the podium.

  He paused to take a sip of water.

  “You are here tonight to learn about this. Many of you are here after you found out I was going to talk about ex-loves, because you need help on healing so you can attract your real Queen.” He temporarily thought about Jagger, how the poor man had struggled so. “You want to attract your soulmate, you’re tired. When your shit is together, you have no choice but to attract your soulmate. Now, it may not always be on your timetable. It wasn’t on mine, that is for damn sure. It felt like it was taking forever, but she did eventually show herself. She was revealed. You need her, and she needs you because you are the two equal halves designed to be together so you can live as one! We are right back at one, people.” He held up his finger. “The energy demands we are one, and that is what happened.”

  The room grew quiet.

  “You will never experience a vulnerability like that before or after. A part of you will die if she leaves you, if she passes away before you do. God help you...” His eyes narrowed and he felt his body growing warmer as he reflected on his own father, his mother’s death, and how it darn near destroyed him. He understood his old man now; he understood the peril that man had endured, going through such a trauma...

  “Any tragedy that keeps you two apart will be devastating. It will mess you up; you will feel as if the world needs to end, and life has no meaning.” He remained quiet for a moment, so that the words would sink in, marinate a bit.

  “But you only get that point; you only experience that type of euphoria, by getting to know her, on a deeper level, beyond that surface shit, you know? Get into the layers of the onion, peel it back. Read her like a book, be able to complete her sentences and she yours. That’s the connection I am talking about, the chakra levels, brothers.” He scratched the tip of his nose and continued.

  “Some men, we say, ‘well,women are complex, Saint.’” He hesitated and reflected, now shrouded in a sliver of darkness as he stood back from the spotlight. He re-entered the light, fleetingly looked up and pointed to the ceiling, as if it were the heavens. “Yes, they are complex, it’s true. But so are we. We come from a woman—anything she produces is a manifestation of herself. When a man says women ain’t shit, he is saying he ain’t shit, because we are a derivative of the Goddess.
This is one big circle, one big point of origin.” He moved his index finger in the shape of an ‘O’, then paused. “Men, we don’t take the time to learn about ourselves, who the fuck we really are,” he said softly. “Do you ever ask yourself the question, ‘Who am I?’

  “We take even less time to learn about our mate and how to make love to her. We are missing out on one of life’s biggest pleasures, the true connection you receive from sex, not just that physical orgasm. If you aren’t connected to that woman internally and cerebrally, then you never really came before!” His voice rose, drawing wide eyes upon him. “You’ve never busted a real nut! You are a virgin, at least spiritually, until you’ve had this. You’ve never experienced a full-body, full chakra orgasm, and man,” he smiled and shook his head emphatically, “you are missing out because you didn’t do your homework, the footwork, the necessary exertion to get to that level with your woman, your black woman.” Heads nodded in the audience. “When you succeed in this knowledge, it will manifest and then, the best is to c.u.m...”

  He smiled at the various sentiments bouncing around the room, a loud, “Yes!” here and a “That’s the truth!” there...

  “When you focus only on your dick, that just isn’t enough. That is your ticket to the concert, but you miss the magic of the show if that is your only focus. Looking down at your dick, paying attention to only your own pleasure instead of looking at her, missing the whole damn fucking performance! When you have a soul connection, and make love, your orgasm is ten times better. All the other times you came were nothing compared to this! That shit literally takes your damn breath away, and you can’t stop. You want nothing more than to please her, because that makes your orgasm even better. Once you orgasm with a soulmate, your brain sends signals to the rest of your body that something phenomenal is going on. This causes convulsions and you feel like the fuckin’ fourth of July all in your nerve endings, up and down your spine. Your chakras are damn near screaming and your whole body goes stiff for a few seconds like you are fucking planking! It’s the only damn time I am rendered speechless but y’all don’t hear me though!”