** Did I ever tell you how much I love music? I guess you can tell that by the way I jacked Paul Wall’s ‘Ms. NewBooty’. Sing it with me: “I found you Ms. Blog Booster”. **

For the better part of the day, I debated about posting the “booster’s version” of my post since you can’t access it via her MySpace page anymore. For the moment – please read that part carefully - FOR THE MOMENT – I’m going to let it slide. See, unlike Ms. Blog Booster, I know who I am. I don’t have to hide behind fake authenticity all the while praising the name of Jesus.

I admit that I’m curious as to why someone would do this. So people think you wrote a slamming post? So they can relate to “you”? Find you insightful? So some folks you’ve never met will like you? Baby, let me help you free yourself: as long as you present yourself as less than who you truly are at your core, no one will ever really know you. Ergo, they CAN’T like YOU – they will like your agent, your representative…your stand-in. You’ll move through life, a fugitive hiding from yourself, always looking over your shoulder, fearful of being exposed for who you truly. Moving through life wondering if folk really like you. The answer, should you ever quiet the lies and guilt in your unsettled spirit will be a resounding NO. How could they? They don’t know the “real” you. And it is obvious by your actions that either YOU don’t know the real you …or you don’t like yourself either.

Years ago, I went out of town for the weekend. I returned to find my home had been broken into. By others’ standards, nothing valuable was taken. But I felt the loss. That break-in changed the atmosphere for me, took away my comfort level for a long time. That’s what your actions have done – robbed me. Not only of my words but of my belief that my words were safe here in their own home. That folks would stop by as they choose, visit a while, enjoy themselves and travel on. But Sister, you violated my space, my peace of mind. Violated a sacred bond between me and the words I weave together. In short order, you have placed yourself between me and the God who gifted me with those words. It is a dangerous place to be. Remember the old Calvin Klein commercial with Brooke Shield proclaiming, “Nothing comes between me and my Calvins”? Turn it up 10X – and that’s how I feel about anyone, anything standing between me and the God who knows my name.

It would be so easy for me to assassinate your character here with an oh so lyrically lethal jab from my pen. But how do you kill what’s already dead? Sister, your spirit rings hollow. Strong words? Perhaps. But being the lover of the word & all things Jesus that you profess with your mouth, you know what the Word says – “the thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy”. If you read those words, reflect on what you have done, and STILL don’t see yourself, then the truth just isn’t in you.

I’ve said it before and it apparently bears repeating: I HAVEN’T ALWAYS BEEN A CHRISTIAN…BUT…I AIN’T NEVER BEEN A PUNK. Bottom line is this MRS. K: do not let yourself be lulled into a false sense of complacency. While it’s true in a lot of instances that there are six degrees of separation between people, trust and believe me when I tell you that there are NOT that many degrees between you and I. And my educated sister, you also need to know that, while you removed the stolen posts from your blog, they still exist. Yeah Boo, it’s like frigging DNA – you can’t erase it. It’s like blood - you can try to wash it out, but traces will always remain though not visible to the naked eye. Since you have obviously blurred the lines between what’s mine and what’s yours, I don’t expect you to see this clearly. And while you have changed the name of your blog from “Soulfull Soliloquies” (and yes, I know you’ve changed it three times to end up with your “final” version), I STILL SEE YOU. And though you’ve changed the name of your MySpace page by changing the “cute” little spelling of said URL, I STILL SEE YOU. Told you this wasn’t a game for lightweights. You might wanna sit this one out. My arms truly are too short to box with God but you? Don’t fool around and get got. For real.

A friend said I was overreacting, maybe you didn’t copy as much as I think. A few people said that. What say you Miss “Nothing-posted-here-is-“NOT REAL”? How easily and quickly I could prove them wrong, right Sis? One of these days… *Sigh* I try really hard to respect other people. All I ask for is reciprocity. I bring that 5-fold plus into my interactions with other women, particularly African-American women because I’ll be dayum if I let someone else’s stereotypes of African-American women be proven true at my expense. And then here you come – a lopsided spiritual test in the making. Guess which one of us passed with flying colors? Instead of taking an “SOL” you ARE S-O-L.

I don’t play when it comes to words, not the ones I speak, not the ones I write, nor the ones to which I listen. It pierces my spirit in such a mighty way to have someone bite my work the way you did. Why? For a long time, I didn’t know who I was, didn’t trust who I was. I was told I was so much less. Treated as if what I had to say didn’t matter, as if who I was didn’t matter. And so, I spent YEARS moving through life in a perpetual state of ‘spiritual laryngitis’. I had no voice. It was through writing that I found the strength to begin to heal all those broken places in me – the words that others hurled at me, the lack of expectations others had for me simply because of who & what I was born into…the kind of things that get into the psyche of a young girl and literally tear her self-esteem to shreds. Writing was the rope that I used to pull myself up & out of that. Words became both my life preserver and my mask. I hid behind them. Dressed them up real pretty. Put them on display hoping no one would see the real me behind them. Until the day God said to me, “Baby Girl, it’s time. Step out. Step into YOU.” Words became the steps that helped me climb up and over. The bridge that crossed me over. And here you come with your cheap chisel trying to chip away at the base of that very foundation.

Can I tell you something? I’ve overcome more formidable situations than a weak-minded person who doesn’t like herself enough to show herself to the world. In the eyes of our society, I come from nothing. Hear me when I tell you that. I COME FROM NOTHING. Through the grace of the God who named me, the very God who placed words in my mouth, in my hands, in my pen, I live comfortably – materially and more importantly, spiritually. I live without false pride. I present my authentic self, flaws and all to the world and let them decide if I am their cup of tea. You need to know that a person who comes from nothing has unrivaled survival instincts. I have been known to work with people…regardless of what I thought about them. I’ve been known to work around people when a more raucous interaction wasn’t worth my time or energy. And my Sister….I’ve also been known to work some people over. Survival of the fittest - I come from nothing. Everything I have, including the words I birth, is of tremendous value to me and while I willingly share them with the rest of the word you need to know that if push comes to shove, you will lose. Trust me when I tell you that.

You speak in your profile of using your words to “heal” and for “kingdom building”. It isn’t my place to question your faith…or lack thereof. We’re all in different places in our spiritual walk. Some of us are crawling on our bellies. Perhaps “YOUR” words do heal, perhaps they do serve to build up the kingdom of God. Know that, in the end, that is the same reason I and others like me share our words, our lives, our thoughts. And in stealing them, claiming them as your own, you have caused a wound where healing was possible. You have torn down where building up was possible. You have cheated the world of an opportunity to truly learn from your life’s story. You have cheated yourself by being less than what God intended. In short order my dear sister, you are riding the short bus on the regular to and from Spiritual Special Ed.

Perhaps you can live with that. If so, I say go to your destiny.

Know that I am watching…and reading. Know that I will NOT be this forgiving again – whether the work is mine or that of someone else. Know that I have an amazing memory. Know that the internet makes the world a mighty small place. Know that in cyberspace, always IS forever; once you hit “enter” or “send”, you can’t erase it, there is no ‘delete’ key. And to paraphrase the old “Look for the Union Label” commercials, you might want to “Look for the copyright notice” next time. You know, that whole “Reading is Fundamental” thang.

In the end, I pray you peace. Healing. And a sense of true direction cause my beloved sister….your moral compass is broken. Shattered. B-U-S-T-E-D. Only God can repair that crack. How sad that apparently, even in your interaction with Him, you are still hiding.

Be well…and if you can’t be well, at least be honest. Smooches!