Blogs of the Invisible Soul

Hell Of A Life

2010-11-14T21:23:00.004-05:00

SheHateMe: How would you rate Ye's album?

ComputerLove: At this point, it's just as honest as How I Got Over AND Thank Me Later with a broader range of sonics and emotions.

SHM: I'm gonna say this: if Yeezy doesn't get a classic rating on this, the industry is a bunch of political asshats.

Niccolus: He isn't going to get a classic rating on this because people are going to complain about how Auto-tune is so over. I predict the following line in a review "while the material is fresh it feels like its dated back to 808s"

SHM: Then that reviewer needs not review anything else. Ever.

CL: It's like a fusion or composite of his previous opuses. If there was Auto-Tune on MBDTF, then it was imperceptible, or used very subtly

N: I agree with you both. I think my only disagreement with the album itself was it should have been double disc.

CL: I respectfully disagree with the notion that it should have been a a double disc. Would be too much. Overkill.

N: I'm still hoping @kanyewest drops the sheet music or tab sheet for MBDTF sometime because I'd love to play it.

CL: I often feel that there's nothing new under the sun, then someone like @kanyewest chefs up some fresh new shit

SHM: Agreed. @kanyewest did what other artists are afraid to do: make music true to themselves.

N: I agree. There is one other artist who does just that: Kid Cudi. I think it's that newer artists are afraid to take the risk because labels are less than willing to do so. I think a bonus disc with the G.O.O.D. Friday tracks they have been left off would have been nice. The G.O.O.D. Friday tracks that were left off by themselves are better than most major releases this year.

SHM: That's also true. Hell, The Joy beats out most albums.

CL: That's actually a very good idea right there. 'Ye took 5 artists I don't really care for all that much - to a certain extent (CuDi, Ross, Rihanna, Minaj, & CyHi)... and used them sparingly to obtain a great end result on the album. He's a great chef.

SHM: YES. And I have to give props where props is due: Minaj delivered the verse of her career (so far) on Monster.

N: I know what you mean. I typically cringe when I see any of those names but Kanye is making them tolerable to me. I would hate to be the rap blog or magazine that rates Teflon Don higher than MBDTF.

SHM: I'd hate to be the blog or magazine that rates Thank Me Later higher than MBDTF.

Biggga: Yeah the album has 1 weak joint on it. It is a great album.

SHM: What did you think was the weak joint?

B: Hell Of A Life is the weak link in a damn near perfect album.

C: He knew exactly what he wanted on each song and A&R'ed his own shit. I'm predisposed to having an aversion to downtempo/slow/emo songs on rap albums, but there isn't a weak joint. I was gonna say Blame Game & Hell Of A Life I initially wasn't feeling, cuz they're slower/softer. (Pause)

SHM: Exactly. I've been listening for 72 hours... I can't find a weak link. Sonically... it's damn near perfect. I wish I could agree with you, B. We rarely disagree... Hell Of A Life not only FITS, but it's a lyrical win.

B: We can agree to disagree. I have listened to the album 3 straight times and that's the only song that I'm not feeling.

CL: My only gripe w/ Hell Of A is that the melody from the chorus "borrows" heavily from Black Sabbath's "Iron Man".

SHM: I can dig that. I was feeling that way too, initially.

N: Funny you should mention that because I liked that about the chorus rather than something generic. There is no weak joint to me on the album but I'm a fan so I'm biased. I supported crushing Taylor Swift. If Taylor Swift would have been swift with the thank you speech, shit like that wouldn't happen. "I want to thank my mom, God, my label and the groupies." 32 seconds. OUT!

SHM: That's true! *pulls out Wrap It Up box*

N: Back to Nicki Minaj for a second, isn't the fact the album comes out in nearly a week and there is no leak a bad sign? Think about Fat Joe.

SHM: Yeah... I haven't even smelled a .rar file from her camp yet... sheesh.

CL: Same thing with Lloyd Banks. I haven't given the reason much thought though. Too busy listening to MBDTF.

N: I think the reason Nicki Minaj gets so much praise is that being female is seen as a handicap in rap. She's going to stand out when you compare her to Foxy Brown, Yung Berg, Remy Ma, Trina and other females, but compare her to everyone who's released an album in the past 12 months and she will be subpar.

CL: She's got room to improve and potential to grow. I'm not writing her off just yet, not by any means.

SHM: I agree, N. I was all about giving her a chance... but she's too Pee Wee Herman for me. *Pee Wee Herman laugh* -__-

CL: Pee Wee Herman? Ha, I'd actually like to see her jilling off in a movie theater... help her, even.

SHM: Same here. She DOES have a body on her... even if it's mostly plastic.

N: I was all for giving her a chance but then she over saturated the market. Good artists disappear while they craft albums. They don't show up on EVERY SONG between releases. It's the same argument we have against Drake. So Far Gone was good, but sit down, shut up, and make the album. If Drake had time off like between Comeback Season and So Far Gone, Thank Me Later could be better. 'Ye ran off between College Dropout and Late Registration. Dropped Freshmen Adjustment 2 but was out.

SHM: EXACTLY. Good point. Even Beyonce sat down this year. That's a hell of an achievement. And before we continue, can we just say that Blame Game is song of the year? Just saying.

CL: "Yeezy Taught Me" is already a catchphrase immortalized in the annals for the Rap Skit Hall Of Fame.

N: Blame Game is easily song of the year. If it's a single, it will cross over and hit all charts.

CL: In a way I think that skit is an analogy for how Yeezy done stretched out Hip-Hop's pussy and it's not the same.

SHM: So damn true. Drake... not even CuDi or Common can come subpar now...

N: Common's next album is going to be great. Why? He is done with Serena. When Common is in love we get shit.

CL: But yo, what artist has continually built openly and added to their catalog with each consecutive album? It's like a series, saga, legacy or whatever. I mean, yeah, it's subjective. In the end, it's "artistic appropriation", but Drake don't have a catalog though... yet. With 'Ye, there's almost this loose, albeit running, narrative.

SHM: Exactly. No one. Not even Big Bro. In my eyes... Ye is 5 for 5 on albums.

CL: Pretty much, like the Undefeated clothing line logo. It seems he finds a muse in his downtime. WOMEN. And not just smashed females and romantic interests, but his mom and Taylor Swift. God forbid Beyonce divorces Jay-Z. I can't even fathom the musical potential between the 2, let along the Camel heartbroken.

N: Pretty much. Jay is hip-hops Brett Favre. His accuracy can be deadly when the icy hot is working but its no longer 100%. Kanye gives us new shit with each female he smashes. We need to keep him stocked in bitches.

SHM: I agree with this plan... but they need to be slightly off kilter. Who can we pick?

N: I say we volunteer Jessica White.

CL: Why not go for the gusto? I say Michelle Obama or Oprah Winfrey. Or Janet Jackson. Make Jermaine Dupri cry.

SHM: I'm down with that. Janet will make Ye drop something like Here My Dear or Songs In The Key Of Life. Then Ye will kill himself.

N: Janet likes white guys. Oprah's a lesbian. Barack puts it down. Jermaine is making "I Need A Girl 2011".

CL: Oooorrrrrr.....we could get a two-fer w/ Mary J Blige. Yeah.

SHM: Ok, that'll work! But we need to strike while Diddy feels betrayed by Jay Elec so he can produce it.

N: True, but Mary is still in denial things are over in relationships. Now I have an idea, but I need you guys to follow me on this one: Lindsay Lohan.

SHM: Ok. Explain.

N: Lindsay has the passion for fashion and a passion for passing out and partying hard and dyking.

SHM: Hmmm... ok. Okay. That'll work. But we'll have to be careful she don't introduce coke to 'Ye.

N: That's the brilliance of Lohan: Cudi the Coke Monster.

SHM: Indeed. So... final thoughts? How many cigs does 'Ye get? I'm pushing for all 5.

CL: Sure, I don't see why not.

B: I'd say 4.5... but Chris Rock made me give it 5.

N: 6. It gets one extra for the skit with Chris Rock. If Rick Ross is getting 3 and a half, then Ye deserves 5. Ross wasn't even on half the damn album.

CL: And Lex Luger recycled beats to produce half of it. Man, that shit was a BMF Maxi-Single with bonus tracks.

N: Teflon Don was basically a "What if DJ Khaled executive produced an album?" The only way I was able to sit through Teflon Don a second time was I kept yelling "Cluemanatti" during it. And to think he's going to drop another album next year.

SHM: Damn shame. Ok, then it's settled. Five cigs plus a bonus one for Chris Rock... who damn near stole the album. You know what? I gotta thank Yeezy. And when I see that nigga, I'm gonna thank him. I'mma gonna buy the album, I'mma download that motherfucker, I'mma shoot a bootlegger.

The Joy

2010-11-09T21:06:00.003-05:00

First and foremost, let me thank Rocky Rivera for inspiring me to write tonight. Much love, ma'am. Thank you for reading.

Forgive me for two things: the absolute rawness and beauty of Pam Grier up there and for the fact I haven't blogged in 5 months.

It was a long and pretty uneventful summer.

Ok, I'm lying. I met someone. Finally. (Cheers and applause all around)

The Joy of being with someone who accepts who you are and embraces your faults is a wonderful feeling. She's amazing, in a way that I've never felt before.

I remember when I was 8. Running around in my British Knights with my friends, playing whatever silly game we came up with. Enjoying the day, laughing and just being content. Being with her... it's like someone took those times and bottled them up and served them to me 21 years later.

The Joy of being with someone as beautiful as she... not just physically. Emotionally. Mentally. It's almost like she's some ethereal angel placed here for me. I look at her and I wonder to myself "How did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve her? What can I do to keep her?" And she reminds me that we are kindred spirits. We are together because this doesn't just FEEL right, it IS right.

She reminds me of Pam Grier. Strong. Looking into her eyes... there's life there. Joy, even. There's also some vulnerability, but that's what makes her human. That's what makes me more intrigued by her daily. There’s a part of her that is fragile, young, sometimes scared, and I think these are contradictions that attracted me to her. And she makes me very happy. She is very familiar to me and so I can be myself around her, she knows me well, I completely trust her, but at the same time in certain respects she remains a mystery to me. I enjoy her being a mystery to me. It makes me want to try and figure her out. She holds my interest, which, to be honest, is very hard to do.

The Joy of being involved with someone who has become such a staple in your life is something that I hope every one experiences. These are my words to her:

Love may be a lot of things: blind, fleeting, swift, everlasting, impossible to define. Even if this moment ends with you, I thank you from the BOTTOM of my heart for the moment of Love you've given me. Not only did you repair and steal my heart and restored my faith in Love, you've also embedded yourself into my soul. No matter what happens, I'll never let anyone take this Joy from me. I Love you, Honey Bear.

The Joy.

P.S. There's an aside to everything I said. She's got a body like Pam Grier. The Joy of waking up beside her in the morning? Indescribable. *nods head* *thinks about it* *drools*

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Now playing: Kanye West - The Joy (feat. Pete Rock, Jay-Z, Charlie Wilson, Curtis Mayfield & Kid Cudi)
via FoxyTunes

Pretty Girls

2010-06-14T00:33:00.000-04:00

I can cross another thing off my 30 Before 30... and if everything goes right, I can actually mark off two things.

But first...

I got inebriated Saturday night. WASTED. SLOSHED. THREE SHEETS TO THE WIND.

And I have to thank that pretty girl @Brandi3D for it.

Here's the story:

Tuesday, June 8th at 12:15 AM, I was invited to a birthday party by Brandi. She asked if me and my cousin Lamar (@LSANTANA757) would go; after 7 seconds of talking with him, we agreed to show up.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I was so busy with my brother and sister having family time, that I only ate once, around 2 PM. Taking a 2 hour nap around 5, it never crossed my mind that I needed to eat before I went out. {Red Flag #1} (Editor's Note: I will be putting Red Flags by things that are to be noted as important... such as this one.)

Last night rolls around and by this time, my other cousin (who'll remain nameless) decided that he wanted to go as well. He also told us he had drinks in the truck and that we were more than welcome to partake in them. In his vehicle, he had bottles of Parrot Bay, Absolute, and Everglow. We made a quick stop at our local Wawa to get 24oz. cups of ice. We then proceeded to mix all the drinks together into our cups and chug them down. {Red Flag #2}

Racing down towards VA Beach, we're calling and talking to Brandi, who tells us that she's on her way there, and we can meet up then. Mind you, Brandi is a wonderful person; having been friends on Twitter for almost 2 years, this is our first time meeting up, so it's pretty exciting. I drink some more. (I always get nervous around pretty women.) {Red Flag #3}

Music blasting, we finally hit Pacific Ave. My other cousin reminds us that it is Puerto Rican Weekend down at the beach, and it is packed. We drive around for about 20 minutes, looking at the women while finding parking. By this time, the liquor has already invaded my blood stream. I am now tipsy. {Red Flag #4}

Getting to Shaka's, the doorman greets us and we walk in. It's HOT. Brandi meets us upstairs. She is not what I expected looking at Twitpics of her for 2 years, no. She was looking WONDERFUL. Hugs and greetings get passed around. She then informs us that the bar tab has been set at $40 for an open bar. Let me say this again:

$40.

All you can drink liquor. {Red Flag #5}

Two Long Island Iced Teas start the party off. We talk (more like yell), we dance, we start getting into the groove. The DJ had a live drummer there with him, making every high hat, snare, and bass drum feel 10x better. We got back to the bar for more drinks; this time, I take 3 shots of Patròn. Her friend (which, to this very second, I do not remember his name) has challenged me to drinking shots. We go at it. We call a truce after the 4th shot; Brandi, Lamar and my other cousin come off the dance floor and we get a round of Blue Motorcycles to make a toast with. I, being overly ambitious, have already drank my glass. They laugh and get me another one. We make a toast to good times and good friends. I drink this one like it's water. As I move towards the bar to place my cup down, I feel the liquor moving around in my stomach; if I close my eyes, I can hear it. {Red Flag #6... I have just fouled out. Everything from here on is on fast forward: from me talking to 4 different sets of women, to me hitting on another guy's woman and ALMOST pulling her number until he violently grabs her by the arm; she then gets him thrown out. Oh, and apparently, when I get super drunk, I dance like Carlton did that episode of Fresh Prince when he was on those uppers. There was video of that, but nobody will EVER see that.}

The night ends outside. We are all laughing and taking pictures. Here is a picture of me:

Yes, that is me on Brandi's Nappable Titties. By this time, all I can think about is FOOD. We say our goodbyes and start to make our way back to the vehicle. As we are crossing 19th street, there is a black BMW blocking the box (If you live in or near VA Beach, you know what blocking the box is). So me, in my HIGHLY drunken state, taps the trunk of his car and yell out "Nice Car!" I continue to walk across the street, completely ignoring his drivel about me hitting his car. Lamar yells at the guy to go home, and the dude pulls off. As soon as I hit the truck, I'm all over the backseat, drunk tweeting (as I've been known to do) and actually being amazed that I can tweet while drunk and not misspell any words. My other cousin yells at me and tells me when we get to Waffle House to NOT say a word. I nod my head and continue tweeting.

Somewhere between us hitting the interstate and getting to Waffle House, I pass out. Getting woken up by two drunk and hungry people isn't fun at all. I stumble my way into the crowded Waffle House and take a seat at the counter. The waitress puts the menu down in front of me. I tap Lamar and point to what I want to eat. He looks at me and asks if that's what I want to eat. I nod. He says OK. I get off the chair and go the bathroom, as I have to pee. After spending 4 minutes trying to figure out how to wash my hands, I make my way back to the chair. The waitress has yet to take our order, which is a good thing.

WARNING: This next part will probably be a little graphic. I suggest that if you have a weak stomach that you do not read this part. I also suggest that if you live in the Churchland area and you are a female.... well, you might want to read this. That's all I'm saying.

Sitting in the chair for no less that 30 seconds, my stomach, which is still full of liquor, has informed me that it will no longer play flask for my liquid goodness, and that it needs to be expelled. NOW. Lamar looks at me, and I shake my head violently.

Wrong move.

I stumble as fast as a fat drunk person can to the bathroom and immediately projectile vomit all over everything: the toilet, the handle, the wall, the floor, the mirror; EVERYTHING. Amazingly, nothing hits my shirt, pants, or shoes. There is a shelf on the wall that I didn't throw up on that was chest high. I lay my head on the shelf, trying to regain my composure and to make sure that I didn't have to shoot tequila and vodka all over the place again. There is banging on the door. My ears hear NOTHING. I attempt to clean up the mess that I made, not really caring how I clean up; I mean hey, if a man comes into this bathroom and there's a little puke behind the toilet, get someone to come clean it, because I am just too drunk.

After about 10 minutes of futile cleaning (I did get the toilet as clean as I could with the bleach that was in the bathroom), I stumble out of the bathroom and make my way back to the dining area where there's a lot of females looking at me funny. Apparently, I didn't make it to the Men's restroom, which was the SECOND door on the left, no. I went into the WOMEN'S restroom. I destroyed that bitch like it was Tokyo and I was Godzilla, but instead of fire laser breath, I had liquid gold in the form of liquor shooting out. I, of course, KanYe Shrug to everybody and ask for the keys to the truck; O'mar is going to sleep (read: pass out). My cousin unlocks the truck and I pass out in the back seat. One hour later, we are pulling up to my brother's house; I stumble out of the truck, give a half wave, stumble up the stairs, and knock on the door. My sister lets me in. I say nothing and make a beeline to the guest room where I pass out, clothes on and all.

I was jarred awake at 9 AM Sunday morning by bright sunlight. I'm quite sure that if I had a breathalyzer, I could've blown at LEAST a .06 BAC; I was still drunk. I'm unsure of where I am, until it hits me that I am at my brother's house. Thinking about how I got there, I then think about the events of last night. I make a beeline straight to the bathroom and spend 30 minutes brushing my teeth and using a half of bottle of Listerine to clean it out. I then sit on my brother's couch, confident that I have scratched off number 28 on my 30 Before 30: got shit faced drunk at least once and remember what happened.

Now, I know what you're asking; why did I title this Pretty Girls? Well, we were blasting that on the Strip like it was a new song, and I wanted an excuse to post that Wale picture with Lindsey Lohan.

Pretty Girls will get you in trouble, kids. Every time. That's the moral of this story.

Liner Notes: I left almost everything I bought with me in my cousin's truck. I did manage to grab my iPod, so I guess that was a good thing. Brandi was a wonderful host, and she's a good friend, so I had a blast, and we're going to do it again before the summer is out... in New York. I do believe that I get this air of... invincibility, when I get drunk... it was a lot of females that could've been this year contenders. I will probably get this drunk again one more time in my life, and that will be my birthday in Vegas next year... well, barring any unforeseen excursions. Oh, and there is video of Lamar outside of the women's bathroom; he was yelling at me that I ended up in there instead of the men's bathroom. Don't let him tell it; he wasn't THAT drunk. (Yeah, right.) Normally, I can hold my liquor well, but when I don't eat... well, you see the end result.

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Now playing: Wale - Pretty Girls
via FoxyTunes

Beat The Clock

2010-06-01T23:43:00.003-04:00

"Surprise, time started already, motherfucker! Say that shit!" - Ghostface Killah

Time crept up on me.

Super fast. I look at the calendar, and it's already June 1st. Just two weeks ago, I turned 29.

Let me let that marinate.

29.

I'm less than 12 months away from the end of my 20's. I have been married. I have been divorced. I have witnessed the birth of my first child. I have been to college. I have met some wonderful people. I have met some people I wish I never met. I have been in love and I have been in hate. I have given and received pain. I have been all up and down the East Coast. I've traveled west of the Mississippi. I've been in 2 car accidents. I've been drunk. I've been high. I've been high AND drunk. I've been so drunk I couldn't remember the night before. Almost started bar fights. I've had 2 one night stands, one of which was a dear friend of mine who I'll probably never talk to again. I've been to concerts, shook hands with those who I consider amazing, and interviewed a porn star. I've watched a man die. I've watched a heart die. I've been shot and shot at, robbed, and assaulted. I've assaulted and ruined lives and been in lockup before. I've smoked cigarettes and quit and started again and quit again. I've lost 50 pounds and gained 60 and lost 60 and gained 65. I'm starting to lose weight again. I've held hands and walked the boardwalk with some of the best females and some of the worst females. I have partied and I have regretted.

I've been thisclose to getting a tattoo. I've been homeless.

All of this in 9 years. And I'm not done.

I've got a bucketlist for my 20's called 30 before 30: Things I Want To Accomplish Before I Hit 30 Years Old. I've already finished number 1.

~~1. Let Everything Up Until This Point Go.~~

But it's a race. 29 other things to do, and I've got... 347 days to do them in. Some are simple, like skydiving. (It's number 12.) Others?

Others will take every ounce of strength I have to accomplish them.

But I will do it. I have faith in me.

I will beat the clock. And I will look back on my 20's and say...

That was fun. Let's do it again.

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Now playing: Ghostface Killah - Beat The Clock
via FoxyTunes

Fear

2010-04-15T00:39:00.006-04:00

I started playing video games when I was 3.

I had a Sega Master System. The first one, with the green 'play' button. The first two games I ever owned was Hang-On and Astro Warrior. I played those game to no end.

On my 7th birthday, I got a Nintendo. I think that opened the flood gates. Super Mario Bros. Duck Hunt. Double Dribble. RBI Baseball. I started playing more and more video games.

I remember when my best friend James got a Super Nintendo in '91. I was so jealous but I was so happy because I could go to his house and play as much as I wanted. I BEGGED my mother to get me one. I never got it. I was mad at my mother. Christmas of 1995, I thought I finally got one. Turned out, Mom got me a Playstation. I was so disappointed. (Until I played it. Go figure.)

I'm an avid gamer. Always have been. Always will be, as far as I can see. Sometimes, I feel like I'm into them too much, or play too much, or blow people off too much because I need to beat one more level. A couple of months ago, me and my sister sat and watched a True Life episode: I'm Addicted To Gaming. To see these people and how they game, I thought that I'm nowhere NEAR that bad.

Then I become honest with myself.

There have been nights I did the Midnight Release for a game (The last one I did was GTA IV). There were times I didn't want to go out with a group of friends because I needed to finish off Yu Yevon in FFX. There were times I forgot to take out the trash because I finally did a sub 1 minute 10 second 40 line run in Tetris. There were times I didn't sleep because I had to get that one shot kill on Alexander Ashford in Resident Evil: Code Veronica. There were times I was late to work because I was creating a new combo in Tekken Tag Tournament. There were times I called out of work because me and my Greenbriar Mall Crew were having a dance off against the crew from Lynnhaven Mall and they NEEDED my perfect 9 footer for End Of The Century. There were times I ignored my future wife's (and ex-wife) conversation because I had to save King Mickey in Kingdom Hearts.

I look back and think to myself that I was addicted to video games. I shudder at the thought... because I have a fear of becoming a 'hardcore gamer', or at least society's view of a hardcore gamer: Mountain Dew drinking, pizza ordering recluse.

Then I realize that fear has no basis. I can walk away whenever I need to. I have before. I will again.

My fear isn't video games.

My fear is that I'm absolutely right. I have an addictive personality.

I read my first newspaper when I was 2. I can read a 350 page book in under 4 hours. I've spent all day in a library. In the 2nd grade, I was reading at a 6th grade level. By 5th grade, I was reading at a 12th grade level. I stared reading the encyclopedia. My mom stopped buying me books, not because I didn't read them, but because I read them too fast. She got me a library card.

In 6th grade, I met this girl. I'll call her 'K' for now. K was (and is) BEAUTIFUL. She made me her best friend, and I made her mine. We did everything together. At that time, I didn't play video games or read as much because I was too busy up under her. We went to our first dance together. We visited each other often. I ended up moving 2 years later, and we fell out of touch, but I always treasured what we had. (I've since found her on Facebook. We've been talking a lot lately.)

I latched onto the next female that showed me more attention than I thought I deserved. And the next one. And then the next one. I had an unhealthy addiction to females: not really becoming their boyfriend, but just being around one that wasn't family.

Women were my next addiction. Hell, they still are.

And then came school. (While I admit I was a slacker, it was because I was bored. I kept my grades up.) And then came drinking. (Patrón Silver. I could drink a bottle by myself in one night. I haven't had a shot of that in months.) And then came sex. (Me and my ex's had sex OFTEN. Too often. I'm a certified nymphomaniac. I haven't had sex in 8 months and counting.) And then came technology. (I'm a tech head. I need the latest and greatest, just to show it off. Then I need to alter it so I can say nobody else got this. I'm trying to curb that, too.) And then came Twitter. (I'm trying to fall back. It's sorta working, but not really.)

I have an addictive personality. And some nights, I fear that it'll get the best of me.

I finally understand what The Virgo was trying to tell me 3 years ago. It wasn't that she didn't love me. She did. She didn't understand how I could fall for her so deeply and so quickly. That scared her away. Now, 3 years later, I'm pushing females away because I don't want them to get too close to me. I fear pushing them away from me because I think I'll attach to them, like a leech or a parasite. I'm quick to say I love being single, but in reality, I hate being alone.

I fear being single for the rest of my life. I fear my addictive personality will hinder me from actually getting into a meaningful relationship. I fear my addictive personality will give me new things to fear, even though I don't really have that fear at all.

I've been using my fear as a crutch. And it wasn't healthy.

So, I'm back to my beginning, where I was at 26 years ago. I'm back into gaming. I've grown tired of the club scene. I have a set group of family and friends who I kick it with. I picked up one or two new friends since, but nothing too serious. I've been drinking in moderation, but I haven't been drunk in almost a year. I've met a lot of new females, but I've been keeping my distance on purpose.

Afraid of falling back into that old trap. Afraid of continuing this circle of destruction. Destruction of personal relationships. Destruction of myself.

I don't want to be addicted to anything, and yet, I'm addicted to almost everything. Movies. TV. (I don't watch TV much anymore. I went from almost 5 hours a day to almost 2 hours a week.) Pop culture. Music. Books. Computers. Women. Sex. I want to know the ins and outs of it all, figure out how it works, and keep it close to me.

Perhaps I am fooling myself. Maybe I'm just surrounding myself with all of this because-

Because I fear myself.

Then again, who am I fooling? I have a blog. And I'm addicted to telling you as much as possible about me without telling you nothing at all.

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Now playing: Drake - Fear
via FoxyTunes

A Garden Of Peace

2010-03-30T04:38:00.003-04:00

I think it's wonderfully and woefully crazy how the world works.

When you try to get a piece of peace, turmoil comes at you from all angles. There isn't a moment to even think, much less gather some peace.

When you could care less about keeping the peace, peace sticks around; makes itself known. Those are the times when peace pulls up a lawn chair.

I've always said when I got my own place, I would make me a garden of peace. Just somewhere away from the telephone and the internet and everybody and just sit there. Watch my fountain shoot water into a never ending blue sky. Drink some sun tea, and just grab a good book or two and be at peace; not only with the world, but with myself.

I think that's part of the problem.

I'm not at peace with the world. And the world knows it, because it's constantly trying to make me not be at peace with myself. Eternal struggle, constant tug-of-war. It's enough to make someone give up on peace.

But not me.

Not yet.

----------------
Now playing: 14KT - A Garden Of Peace (Revisited)
via SoundCloud

Our Dreams

2010-03-26T05:05:00.003-04:00

I still have her pictures.

The ones at the beach. The ones at a restaurant with her mother. The ones in the bathroom mirror. The ones after she cut her hair. The ones fresh out of the shower.

I have them all.

I haven't looked at them in months.

But they are there. Right there in that folder.

I could delete them. But why? My mind still remembers the excitement of those pictures, the smiles.

Besides, my heart wouldn't let me. Trust me, I tried. Numerous times.

I was a summer fling. Of course, in the back of mind, I knew this. But it didn't matter. She was the woman I used to dream about. I had this... idea that we were going to make it. We would go our separate ways and then years later, we would reconnect and then make our dreams come true.

I need to apologize, because our dreams really were MY dreams. And I tried my hardest to sleep while I was awake, so I could live out my dreams.

I slept so much, though, that I slept though all the signals. She left.

She left me with a folder full of past ~~memories~~ dreams. She made me a cocktail of nothing but sleeping pills.

I happily took it. I thought I was gonna dream forever.

Dream about her.

Dream about us.

Dream about what was.

Dream about what could be.

Sunlight's here, though. No more dreams.

I'm making my own reality.

----------------
Now playing: Method Man, Ghostface, & Raekwon - Our Dreams
via FoxyTunes

Cooler Than Me

2010-02-09T02:38:00.000-05:00

Rosario Dawson, ladies and gentlemen.

I chose her simply because she defines cool in a woman to me. She's stunning, but you'll never hear her say that nor act as if she really is that cool.

I talk to a lot of different people daily. It's funny, however, when you talk to that one person who thinks they are simply cooler than everybody else. They are above everybody and look down on people who they deem 'lesser than them'.

How foolish.

Those same people tend to think that EVERYTHING is about them. Even if the topic they are involved in isn't about them at all, they will twist and shove the conversation to be about them. Vanity is alive, folks, and I see it every day.

There is particular person who thinks that every word out of my mouth is about them. Everything I say or do has to do, directly or indirectly, with them. Sad part is, I don't even think about that person often enough for it to even be about them for 3 seconds, let alone a WHOLE conversation.

Nope.

You're not cooler than me. Actually, you may just be, until the last period in this blog, but only because I'm ACTUALLY taking the time out to even write about you. Which is sad, really.

I'm spending my time writing about someone I care nothing for.

That's hypocritical of me, and I realize that. I do. But I needed an outlet.

If not, the next time I saw you, I would've probably slapped the taste out of your mouth.

P.S. Here's the period. You're no longer cooler than me.
----------------
Now playing: Mike Posner & The Brain Trust - Cooler Than Me feat. Big Sean
via FoxyTunes

Verbal Intercourse '10

2010-01-07T01:38:00.003-05:00

As I... open the door to our bedroom
I see you making your flower bloom
Your petals with light moisture on them
Looks my sleep situation just became real grim
I loosen up my tie and unbutton my shirt
You lick your lips and make your eyes flirt
I unbuckle my pants, you smile- no, just grin
Thoughts of you opening wide begin to creep in
I move towards you, you slide towards me
We embrace each other, this is how it's supposed to be
You lick my earlobe, I kiss your collarbone
I take my cell and pull the battery out the phone
No distractions, we about to embark on a journey
What are we doing? Last game of the tourney
You're going for the ring; me? The championship
No more fuck buddies, I want a lasting relationship
House phone's off the hook, I'm cunning like a crook
My tongue find every cranny, crevice, and nook; that's the hook
You kiss my lips, use your teeth to pull on the bottom
Your breath makes me excited, your eyes says "I got him"
Sexy beast, ready to devour and feast
On every part of my flesh but my kisses make you cease
I lay you on your back, ready to taste the yoni juice
We about to go to war, in this one, no truce
You wrap your thighs around my head, all I hear is blood
Rushing, my tongue breaks the dam, here comes the flood
Raindrops keep falling on my head
My sexy lady just made a waterbed
Now this is the part where things get tricky
No chocolate sauce or honey could make things this sticky
I ask you what position, you say you're not picky
I start to feel a buzz as if someone slipped me a mickey
Licky licky, you like that don't you?
The pleasure is all yours, and you'll come, won't you?
To a higher plane, where existence don't matter
Serve me that food, baby, my personal hors d'œuvre platter
Yes, you read that right, this is just the appetizer
You're my course study, and I'm the analyzer
I'm trying to pass class to Human Sexuality 102
Where I can use my skills to really show you
Exactly what I can do, and where we can go
We can get there fast, or I can usher you nice and slow
No music playing, just the sound of your moans
You're my Nina, and I'm you Darius love jones
In a sentimental mood, the room's spinning fast
You smile hard, make me grip your ass
I feel you cross your ankles, telling me not to move
My actions and breathing start erratic, but get real smooth
There's the rush, I feel your Niagra fall
I'm hoping you're good enough to even make Viagra stall
I feel your shakes and shudders, your left foot is bouncing quick
I hear you moan, whisper, say, scream "I want that dick!"
Happy to oblige my lady, go for a ride
It's fun out here, but I want to get inside
Laying on my back, the tables have turned
You're a good student, show me what you've learned
You hold down my wrists, stare in my eyes
You use me as your saddle, grip me with your thighs
Back and forth, like Aaliyah baby, rock the boat
Damn, it's wet, glad I got a raincoat
Cause I don't see myself lasting too long
In this monsoon, but I remain strong
I can't... I can't... I... I'm crashing to shore with so much force
My words aren't coming, but I am: Verbal Intercourse

----------------
Now playing: 14KT - Verbal Intercourse 06'
via FoxyTunes

Soundtrack 2 My Life

2010-01-06T01:36:00.004-05:00

First of all, Happy New Year.

Second, thank you for reading. Seriously, it means a lot to me.

Finally, I wanted to explain this year. If you've been a long time reader (or you go into my backlog) you've noticed that my years have "themes" so to speak. 2007 and 2008, I got an idea while watching Dr. Strangelove (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb). It was a dark comedy, and at that time, I was going to some pretty hilarious things, so all of my titles had an 'or' added to it. 2009, I thought about counting the days until the end of the year... and the end of a lot of other things as well.

Well, this year, I want to do the soundtrack to my life. Every time I post, I want to have a song to go along with the topic. Tonight, I thought about it, and I have a pretty extensive music collection, and I have music that fits every situation.

So, I want you guys to ride with me again this year. It's been a little over 121 hours into the new year, and I feel pretty good. Great, actually. Things are looking up, I got some exciting stuff coming down the pipeline, and finally, today... Atlas shrugged.

I don't feel like I got the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore. I did lose a couple of friends at the turn of the year, but it's for the best; I may have been a cancer to them, and I wouldn't want to impede them in any way. Don't get me wrong; I still love them, and I'll always have their back in anything they do, but I can't deal with the constant BS any longer. Time to focus on ME and what I deserve out of life.

Invisibility has it's perks and flaws; I'm never looked for when I don't want to be; yet, I'm never wanted when I want to be looked for. This year, I intend on becoming comfortable with that.

This is just the beginning. This is my story.

This is the soundtrack to my life.

----------------
Now playing: KiD CuDi - Soundtrack 2 My Life
via FoxyTunes

Day 365 (The Real Folk Blues)

2009-12-31T23:58:00.003-05:00

The past is the past and the future is the future. A man is a man and a woman is a woman. The present is the present. I am who I am and you are who you are. That's all there is to it. Does it really matter? Or do we just think it does?

No end of the year diatribe. Just well wishes for everyone to have a happy new year.

I leave you with this: have the ability to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. If you want to dream, dream alone. That way, you control the outcome of your dreams.

Goodnight, 2009.

Day 364 (Separation Issues...)

2009-12-30T03:19:00.002-05:00

Separate the real from the fake, the milk from the silicone
The cornbread from the pads, the gym from the Body Magic you put on at home
The glasses from the colored contacts, the natural from the weave
The handcuffed from the engaged, the truth from the lies you believe
The polish from the acrylic, the attention grabber from the attention whore
The woman you love from the woman you met at the grocery store
The beauty inside from the makeup made up on the outside
The one who has your heart from the one who can backslide

I'm having major separation issues, but I know exactly what to do...
Real recognize real... and I don't know you. *walks away*

Day 362 (Music Monday)

2009-12-28T02:24:00.001-05:00

Things I Learned In 2009 #7: iTunes Shuffle hates my logic and embraces my emotions.

Let me explain.

So, on Twitter, Mondays are reserved for music, hence the hashtag #MusicMonday. Usually on Monday while I answer emails and silly questions (Her: Email me a copy of this email, please? Me: Um, I just did. In that very email.), I put my iTunes on random and let my near 40,000 songs go crazy.

Well, a couple of Mondays ago, I listened to a lot of stuff, from Korn to Tricky to the Seatbelts, even some Slum Village... but then it got kinda weird.

iTunes was trying to stab me in the heart.

Mayer Hawthorne. Portishead. Little Dragon. Corinne Bailey Rae. Röyksopp. Sia. Then towards the end of the day, it kicked me. Hard.

Adele came on.

And I wanted to throw my laptop out the window.

I have an unresolved issue with someone that I need to clear up in 3 days. I will not carry this bad memory into next year with me. I refuse to. At the same time, this person is going through their own emotional roller coaster, so part of me is saying it'll be selfish to add this to the list of problems they have, let it go; obviously they have, why not you?

The other part of me is screaming 'Does it matter?'

Logically, it doesn't matter. We haven't had a real conversation in almost 3 months. Logically, it's already dead and gone; nothing to answer, nothing to say. Logically, I'm the only person trying to save a friendship that's long gone. Logically, I need to just walk away.

However, music affects my emotions. Heavily. Has been doing so since 1988. Possibly earlier. So, when Adele's 'Melt My Heart To Stone' came on, logically, I was thinking in work mode.

But emotionally, I was cracking up. And I don't mean laughing.

Emotionally, I still want 2 questions of mine answered. Emotionally, I need closure. What's worse is, emotionally, if I don't get it, I'll do some foolishness.

With no logic involved.

But of course, this was all in my head (and in my ears). My heart has shed that old skin and moved forward to greener pastures. The minute Mos Def popped up in my mix, I was back to nodding my head and tapping my desk.

Why wait until 2010 to make a resolution that I can resolve now?

I refuse to let people make me their personal mood ring anymore. Your attitude and emotions will not affect my color. I've been through enough; no need to drag my heart through any more.

Music, though?

Yeah, music will still tug my heart strings.

Things I Learned In 2009 #7: iTunes Shuffle hates my logic and embraces my emotions.
----------------
Now playing: The Seatbelts - Memory
via FoxyTunes

Day 356 (2 Nights Before Christmas)

2009-12-22T01:41:00.003-05:00

'Twas two nights before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, well, maybe my mouse;

Her stockings were hung on the door with care,

In hopes that I soon would be there;

She was nestled all snug in her bed,

While visions of breasts danced in my head;

And sexy mamma in her négligée, and I got my 'cap',

Got ready for 'work' and a "long winter's nap",

When out on the lawn I heard my car window shatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window *WAIT* I don't need to flash,

Pulled off the sheet and threw on the sash.

The moon on the breast of the now-gone snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to my car below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a wobbly Santa without eight reindeer,

With a little woman driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Mrs. St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his bags they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Sony! Now, iPod! Now, Mini TV's and Video Vixens!

On, GPS! On Gas Money! On, Droid, we blitzing!

To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!

To break in- he sees us! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So away from the house- down the street they flew,

With the car full of toys, (my toys) and Mrs. Claus too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard not a poof

But the squealing of tires- wait, did they break the moon roof?

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

I heard the back door crash with a sound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of my toys he had in his sack,

And he looked like a peddler just trying to sell them back.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

Until he realized it was him, that guy I know;

The stump of a blunt he held tight in his teeth,

And the weed smoke: it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a big Desert Eagle and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby, no, fat, a wrongfully jolly old elf,

And I got angry when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I not better chase him, instead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And took all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a what's up nod, he even took my wife's rose;

He sprang to his car, to his girl gave a whistle,

And away they both drove off like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to me, 'cause I'm robbing all night!"

© She Hate Me 2009
=============================

Totally random, I know. But I was bored. Meh.

Day 348 (Pieces...)

2009-12-14T23:57:00.002-05:00

She was too big for him, he was too big for her; that was the truth. The relationship had never really progressed, it had simply fallen apart into a series of fragments.

She embodied everything that he'd ever wanted out of a life partner; spontaneity, humor, intelligence, sexiness.

He embodied everything that she'd ever wanted out of a life partner; sexiness, intelligence, humor, spontaneity.

Almost as if looking into a mirror. Almost as if they were soulmates. Almost as if they were twins.

To say he was scared is an overstatement. Nervous is more like it. He treated her like a Fabergé egg; put her on a pedestal that she never wanted to be on.

He knew this, yet he did it anyway.

In some ways, she was scared too. Too many times she thought to herself that this type of relationship doesn't exist, that the major issue was that there were no major issues. It made her nervous.

They parted ways, without communication, without acknowledgment. A series of fragments. Different people came along and picked up what pieces were left, but none were salvageable.

He missed looking at her; a forest that he could lose himself forever in: and almost did.

She missed being with him; quirky yet humorous charm, a sense of being and self realization.

Yet, for every time they thought about doing the dance again, another partner stepped in, the music would change, or the party would end.

For what seemed to be the first time in human history, 'what was' turned into 'what if'.

How disappointing for them. No glue to bond them together again. No bond strong enough to hold them together again. No more together again. The fantasy shattered.

Pieces, pieces.

Tiny. Splintering. Painful. Pieces.

Day 342 (The Game)

2009-12-08T23:12:00.000-05:00

**NOTE** I began writing this back in July. I wanted to publish it, the problem was, the story had some hiccups and I.... never mind. However, I feel like I need to get this out. It is long, but it does have a point and purpose. Read it if you want to. Thank you. **END NOTE**

I sat there for 7-8 minutes.

Stunned.

She had left me in the car. Closed the door and went into her apartment building. Did tha- did that really just happen? I can't believe it.

I stare off into space replaying the events that happened today. I haven't moved a muscle since she said good night. Then, almost as if on cue, I start laughing.

Laughing hard and long. Laughing at myself. I was an idiot. The advantages were there, the opportunities were there, the openings presented themselves and what did I do?

Nothing.

In a daze, I start the car and pull off. I get to light at the end of the corner, and I hear two females outside yelling. I turn my head, and they are pointing at me. I can't hear them, all I hear is the blood rushing through my veins. The car behind me beeps the horn. The light has been green for a while. I make my left hand turn and drive over the bridge. I'm still in total disbelief. Was a spark there? Was that my chance for the first-

Horns are blaring at me. The car behind me is flashing his lights. I have no idea what for. I drive to the end of the corner, and a car pulls beside me. A man pops his head out the window and says "YO! CUT YOUR HEADLIGHTS ON!" I look down and see that I haven't cut my lights on. I haven't even buckled my seat belt.

I complete the aforementioned tasks and turn on the interstate. Immediately, my mind travels to 4 and a half hours earlier. Back when everything was cool. Back when I still had a plan.

Back when I was still in the game.
=============================================

She opens the car door and gets in. "So, how are you?"

I smile. She was always friendly. "I'm good, how are you? Ready to eat?"

"Yes! I'm starving!"

As I pulled away from the corner, I glanced at her. Wearing a mostly green top with splashes of brown, white and black colors interspersed, some black pants, and some green sandals, she looked quite beautiful. I chuckle to myself; she caught me staring. Check. Early.

"What?" She cocks her head to the side.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." I make eye contact.

"Hey, where are we going to eat?"

"Applebee's." I break eye contact. I'm out of check.

"Then, don't you think you need to be in the left lane?"

"Oh." I get into the left had lane and go down the road. We talk about the last time that we ate at Applebee's 4 weeks ago. As I turn into the parking lot, we bring up the reason why she didn't want to eat there.

"So, let me get this right. You don't want to eat here because that lady that was picking her feet and eating her food at the same time might be here?"

She laughs. "Exactly. This is why women let men think they are making the executive decisions, but in the end, the women make them. Oooh, this place is crowded."

I smirk. "Then I'm making an executive decision, and we're gonna go to Ruby Tuesday. How do you like them apples?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "Ruby Tuesday is fine. Kinda where I wanted to go in the first place, but you know..."

Damn. Even when I think I'm making the decision, she had made it already. My first line of defense is already gone.

A wrong turn and a couple of steering wheel grabs later, we end up at Ruby Tuesday. After getting seated and ordering our drinks, she takes off her sandals and places her feet on top of mine. We get comfortable and then the serious conversation begins.

"So, I've been thinking about what I told you last night."

"Hmm. And what have you been thinking, my dear?"

She looks deep into my eyes. I can hold this gaze for about 10 seconds tops before I have to turn away; her eyes are very arresting. "I don't think that a relationship will work between us." Check.

"Well, why not?" I ask.

"Because... because I don't want a 'yes man' and from what you've been telling me over the years about me and what you desire, you would give me everything I ever ask for, you would agree with me just to make me happy, and to be honest, I'm not this... this queen that you've built me up to be. If we get together, I'll make you think to your self 'I don't like this bitch as much as I thought I would'. I've done it to other men that I've dated. And I don't want to do that to you."

I sip my tea before I answer. "Is that what you think? You think that I'll be like other men? You think that I'll agree with you on whatever and not have my own opinion?"

"Ye-"

"It doesn't matter what you think, darling." She looks at me quizzically. I continue. "There is a difference between me and other men, quite frankly, they aren't me, could never be me, and I'm not them. So, don't lump me into the same position as them."

"I'm not doing that. I just know how other men have done with me and-"

"So, you're saying that I'll be like them. You won't give me an opportunity to prove you right by entering into a relationship with me, and if I say that I'm not like them, it's just words, it doesn't mean anything. Action speaks louder."

I can tell by the look on her face that she's impressed. I counter her check with one of my own.

We sit there for almost 45 minutes before we even order, and when we do order, we get the salad bar. The waitress, who was bubbly in the beginning, is upset that we don't even order off the menu. She grabs our menus and storm off.

We start talking about things we like and we realize that we have a lot more in common that we originally thought. It gets weird almost, like we were best friends growing up together. Then the obvious comes up; we have our first parity.

"Black Tux or White Tux at our wedding?"

I smile. "Black. Sorry, I'm not wearing white."

She frowns. "No, my husband will wear white."

"Then I guess I will become your husband then, I'm just not wearing white."

She cocks her head to the side. "Did you not hear me, I said my husband will wear whit-"

"I heard you." I interrupt her. "And this is proof positive that a relationship will work if we put in the work; I will NOT be your yes man, and I have my own ideas. You won't get everything you want from me, because I'm not wearing white. And if we disagree on that, something that important to you, what makes you think we won't disagree on other things?"

She smiles, then straightens her face up quickly. "Maybe we should go eat."

I shake my head. "Maybe we should."

She gets up. "But first, I need to fix my face in the restroom, you just said something fierce to me."

I smile. "Yeah, you should go do that." She smiles back and goes to the restroom. I put her into check.

=============================
The night continues like this, back and forth, check, check, check. At the parking lot at Wal-Mart, she had me in a MAJOR check, flirting with me, touching me, daring me to act on my carnal desires.

Walking between two cars to get to mine, she stops. I bump into her backside. I don't move. Neither does she.

"Do you like that? You like how it feels?" She began taunting me. "Go ahead. Touch it. You know you want to."

I swallow hard. My mouth gets dry immediately. "I- I, uh.." I clear my throat. "Yeah, I like that. but you better move before-"

She giggles. "Before what? What are you gonna do?" She turns around and whispers in my ear. "If I give it to you, would you take me right now in the parking lot?"

Check.

"I, uh. Hm. I don't think you want me to do it here. Not only would you like it, but we'd get arrested for lewd conduct and disturbing the peace because of noise ordnance." I stuttered that one out.

She laughs and walks to the car. "Uh huh. Right."

I'm out of check. But I'm not out of danger.

==================================
We go to a pool hall to shoot some pool. There's some trash talking, as we were prone to do and some teasing as well. Our body language has let the other patrons looking at her sensual walk and my confident stride know that we are in competition with each other; not only for the domination of the table, but for control of the sexual tension building between us. I easily take the first game. The second game is where things got interesting... and where I lost my most important pieces.

Frowning playfully she says, "OK, you won. Your break." She smiles at me.

I rack the pool balls and prepare to break when I see her bent over the other end of the pool table. Her cleavage is deep; she's pulling her shirt down a lot lower than what it was.

"Um, don't you want to move? This cue ball gets jumpy when I break."

She grins. "You don't worry about me. Just break."

I chuckle. "I can't, you're in the way."

She grins harder. "OK, I'll move." She stands up and walks over to me. She comes close to my ear and...

...does nothing but breathe.

"Can you break now? I would like to play today."

I take a deep breath and prepare my shot. As I push my cue stick forward, she blows a short and light stream of air in my ear. My arm jerks, my shot goes wide, and I scratch on break.

We're tied 1-1.

Also, I'm in check.

She smiles as she goes to reset the pool balls. I shake my head.

Now I scowl playfully. "OK, you win, your break." I grin.

She shakes her head. "I can't break that well."

I smile. "Here. Let me help you." She holds the pool stick properly as I come from behind her and hold her. She grinds her backside into my crotch. I ignore the swelling in my slacks as I whisper in her ear.

"Hold the stick like this. That's right. Make sure you grip it well with your right hand. And tight. Move the stick up and down like this with your left hand. Good. Now pull back as far as you can go and..."

She goes to make her shot and I lightly kiss the back of her neck. Her shot goes wild, the cue ball lands on the floor, and she laughs.

She asked, "What was that?"

I smile. "Nothing. You did good, though."

We continue like this through three more games. At one point, she privately shows me her breasts while I was trying to make the game winning shot. At another point, I slap her ass while she's trying to make a shot. The sexual tension has grown to a fever pitch. We exit the establishment and I lose my queen.

In the parking lot, she stops and asks me a question.

"So, you grabbed it. Squeezed it. Did you like how it felt?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I could never get the right handle on a pool stick."

She chuckles. "You know what I'm talking about. When you were behind me, did you imagine you handling this from the back?" She bends over slightly.

"I didn't imagine anything." I'm trying not to look at her curves, but my eyes defy me.

She sneers gently. "Oh really? Well, I felt your friend, and your friend said that he liked it. A lot. And HE was definitely thinking about handling this from the back."

I laugh. "Well, he does have a mind of his own."

I go to open the car door for her and she comes close. She unbuckles my pants and puts her hand on my member.

"Maybe not right now... but you MIGHT be able to handle this." She laughs and gets in the car.

I stand there. Stunned. My heart racing a million miles a minute. I feel every beat of my heart in my throat and in my boxers. My Queen is gone.

Check.

As we are going back to her home for me to drop her off, she leans over and puts her head on my shoulder.

"You're quiet. Did I go to far?"

I shake my head while smiling. "No. I'm imagining right now."

"What's on your mind, honey?" She scoots closer.

As we pull up in front of her place, I let her know. "Kissing you. Wondering what your tongue would taste like in my mouth. Wondering if our tongues will match pace with each other. Wondering if we kiss, how far we will go."

Silence.

We stare at each other for a long time. The heat in the car has risen; I'm starting to get a dry mouth. She looks at me. I look at her. She smiles slowly. I do the same. I move in for the kiss and...

"Ok, I'm going in the house now. Call me when you get home safely?"

I stammer. "Wait, what? That's it?"

She laughs. "What do you mean 'That's it?' Yeah, that's it. It IS the end of the date, you know."

Damn. Checkmate. My kingdom, toppled by a queen.

She leans back in the car and kisses me on the cheek. "I guess maybe next time, you'll want to stop wondering and just do it. Good night, honey."

She closes the door and walks up the sidewalk. She turns around and waves, then laughs because I still have the same 'I can't believe that just happened' look on my face. She walks up to her door and disappears inside.

I sat there for 7-8 minutes.

Stunned.

She had left me in the car. Closed the door and went into her apartment building. Did tha- did that really just happen? I can't believe it.

I've just been checkmated. In a game that I didn't even know I was playing until my King was toppled. I was toyed with all across the board, from beginning to end. From the first move I made, I was a Pawn pretending to be King. I was bested tonight. I was checkmated.

And I enjoyed every last minute of it.

----------------
Now playing: Common - I Want You
via FoxyTunes

Tiger... 1 Wood, 2 (or 3?) different holes...

2009-12-02T15:50:00.001-05:00

Ok, so, normally, I'm not that outspoken.

I'm lying.

I'm outspoken to a degree. When I see a topic that I passionately care about, I usually can ~~argue~~ debate all day about it.

Today, I logged onto Twitter, and I see people talking about Tiger and his inability to keep it at home.

As if you were really that surprised.

It has NOTHING to do with him being a MAN. It had EVERYTHING to do with him being RICH.

What's crazy is, people were trending (#side chick awareness) as if it was some sort of rules to being a man (or a woman's) side piece. Here's a shocker for you:

THERE. ARE. NO. RULES.

Once you make that conscience decision to cheat, the rules are done. Somebody in the "relationship" is going to get hurt. I used relationship in quotation marks because it's not real. It wasn't real the minute you didn't speak to your partner about what you were feeling.

Communication is key in a relationship. I've preached that since forever.

Anyway, I didn't want to get into it at first because I'm nobody's mirror. I'm no Dr. Phil (yeah, I don't give people a bunch of psychobabble and call it "help") and I was just indifferent about the whole thing.

But four friends of mine told me to go in. I smiled, cracked my knuckles, and here's the end result: **NOTE: I'm not changing one word of what I said. I may be adding a word here or there because Twitter only allows 140 characters at a time, but this is what I said, verbatim.**
=========================
First off, Men: Stop letting these million (and billion) dollar dudes dictate how you act with your wife. They can afford to cheat. You can't. Steve Harvey can marry and divorce to his heart's content. Why? He got money. So does Shaq. Apparently, so does Tiger. You? NO. You still work 50 hour work weeks. And some woman walks in the office with a short skirt; next thing you know, you knocking it down. Then you wonder why your woman, your sister & your momma calls you a dog. Because you are. Period. Stop blaming women for YOUR lack of will. Pussy has NO power, as long as you don't give it any. If you in a relationship, there IS no side chick. There's the woman you "love" and the women you "fucking". That's it. But you don't see that, do you? You don't love her. Stupid motherfucker. If you love her, ask her to suck your dick differently. Ask her to wear a wig. Ask her to dress up. Ask her to stop (or start) bitching. Women who LOVE their man are willing to be a different woman EVERY night for him. Period. You simple dudes don't know that, because you don't ASK. Closed mouths don't get fed, you thirsty bastards.

Now, women: (Oh yes, you gets it too...) STOP LOOKING AT OTHER WOMEN'S MEN. *ahem* You want to know the REAL reason why men cheat? Because some women can't keep their pussy at home. YOU KNOW HE WITH HER. But you don't care. "He got money." "He got good credit." "She told me he be SLANGING that thing." And you're jealous. You're a woman. Men aren't THAT hard to find. A good one? Yes. But hell, if you wanted a good man, you'd be a good woman. Logic, ladies. Stop blaming men for being "dogs". You're a "bitch", what does that say about you? I'm not talking physically, but DAMN. Can you straighten up? Stop asking for HIS money. You got your own, right? Stop driving HIS car. You ALWAYS singing Beyonce, then act like her. BE YOUR OWN WOMAN. BE YOURSELF. If your besty is a slore, chances are, so are you. You are the company you keep, you know.

It's not that hard to be committed, ladies and gentlemen. You find a woman you like, don't lie to her, and it's ALL GOOD. Ladies, stop playing mind games. It's ok to say you really like him. Your best friend just mad cause she didn't talk to him first. Men, stop trying to be MACHO. Nigga, you got feelings, too. So what, you like the girl enough to shred your "Playa's Card". Who cares? That's ONE LESS WOMAN after me when I get involved with someone. If men kept their women happy, there would be no cheating men. And vice versa. *drops mic*
=================

That was pretty much it. It's one or two points that I didn't say on Twitter that I will say now. First off, it's not about Tiger being a man and that old "all men cheat" thing. It's not. Stop deluding yourself.

Tiger is an ignorant rich person.

You don't believe me, huh? Ok. Look at it this way:

Tiger tells his wife the truth, long before he cheats. "I'm not attracted to you that much anymore. Sex is disgusting with you. You're boring. You're turning black. Blah, blah, blah. I want to get some other women." Once he does that, Elin has two choices: stay, or go. If she stays, she enjoys the money, the lifestyle, etc. If she goes, she gets NOTHING. Why? There was no breech of the pre-nuptial agreement. He didn't cheat, he simply told her he wanted to. In the state of Florida, where they live, a significant other cannot receive damages for irreconcilable differences if they have a pre-nup. So, Elin gets nothing. She walks away with her dignity... and a couple of thousand dollars. Logically speaking, Tiger could've have put her in a "kept woman" status. Us, the public? None the wiser, unless he passed away first from old age and she releases a tell-all book.

And for those that are thinking only rich men do that, well....

*looks at Oprah and Stedman.... looks at Debra L. Lee and her kept man*

ANYWHO...

Leslie McRay (Google her) was the most famous kept woman in all of Hollywood. THAT'S how you play the game, folks.

If you're going to play, know the rules.

Tiger didn't know the rules, and he's paying for it, BIG TIME. The women who are outing themselves as Tiger's side pieces may find a man to be with them for right now... but come on. Yeah, you're fine (subjective, you're not all that cute to me), but what does it matter? All you are is an object for a man's pleasure. You may have gotten the best of them, but only after they got what they wanted from you to begin with. They got the best you had to offer. Those decent men that you're gonna say don’t exist, but really do… well, they don’t exist, not for you. They are going to pass you over. Let’s face it… you aren’t what they call ‘relationship material.’ You’re the type that most men wouldn’t clean their homes for, let alone the backseat of their cars. Because when men smile at you… you know what’s behind that smile. All you are is a beautiful body with an ugly soul. People may want you, but nobody will love you.

And that goes doubly true for men with all money and no soul. Money can only get you so much... love is NOT one of them.

Two, for both sexes: Yes, I truly believe that if you love your wife/S.O./girlfriend, then you shouldn't cheat. Bottom line. However (and this is NOT a pass to cheat, people), if you eat chicken every night in the same way, one night, beef is gonna look REAL GOOD to you. Even if someone cooked that beef wrong as hell, you'll eat it anyway because you're tired of that same old chicken.

But, there are over 1,000 different ways to cook chicken. Even if you take 365 of those ways and cook chicken differently every night, you'll be happy when that first dish comes back around.

Even better, you'll find out what chicken dishes you REALLY like and ask for them more often. Soon, you won't even care about beef.

Now replace the food with your relationship.

It's truly simple. And for those that say it isn't, that it's hard because of whatever wack ass reason you come up with, I say this to you: Are you single right now? Because if not...

...you're gonna be. And it's all your fault. Period.

Let's stop worrying about Tiger. He'll be fine. You have to make a mistake to learn a lesson sometimes, and he just did. I promise, Elin isn't going nowhere. Look at Vanessa, Kobe's wife.

Exactly.

Take a moment to asses your relationship before you comment on someone else's relationship. There are women and men who want their S.O. to only have them in their life, but they got 50 other women and men floating around.

If you're cool with being second place, by all means, play your position and shut the hell up about it. If you know you're the side piece, you can't get mad when s/he cuts you off, or when S/HE cuts him/her off and s/he has to cut YOU off.

OH, and a free piece of advice: If you're in a relationship and you just HAVE to cheat, STOP LEAVING A ELECTRONIC TRAIL. Tiger, nigga, you worth a billion dollars! Get your gopher to go to this girl house and break her damn SIM card! Stop sending emails and texts and pictures! If you know you in a relationship, your side piece should be Santa Claus: that person don't exist! Never have, never will! You might see her/him dressed up in the mall certain seasons, but it's just a costume! A figment of your imagination!

*sigh*

I think I'm too smart for my own good. I just outed every person cheating.

Oh well. Better chances for me to find a good woman.

Day 335 (Astronomy...)

2009-12-01T23:54:00.002-05:00

Things I Learned In 2009 #6: There is still beauty left in this world.

Tonight, I saw a Halo around the moon. I was amazed. While I studied the phenomenon of Halos around the moon in Astronomy in college, I had never seen one myself. It was the most amazing thing I've seen this year. What is a Halo, you ask?

A halo (also known as a nimbus, icebow or Gloriole) is an optical phenomenon produced by ice crystals creating colored or white arcs and spots in the sky. Many are near the sun or moon but others are elsewhere and even in the opposite part of the sky. They can also form around artificial lights in very cold weather when ice crystals called diamond dust are floating in the nearby air.

What I saw tonight was a circular halo. It made me think and realize that there are still very beautiful things that I have not experienced yet in this world, and that I need to take time out to experience them. I called a friend of mine and woke her out of bed to see it. At first, she thought something was wrong but once I got her to step outside (and after calmly telling her that the moon is not falling), she also thought that it was beautiful.

I think the halo is a wake up call for me. I've been doing things off base for the past month; acting really out of character for myself. Emotionally, I've been stable, but mentally, I've been in and out of things, and this halo made me realize that I need to put things back in all the right spots so that I can go into this next decade with a renewed sense of self.

To everyone I've ever hurt and to everyone that hurt me: I'm sorry and I forgive you.

To everyone that I support and to everyone that supports me: Thank you and you're welcome.

To everyone I've ever loved and to everyone that has ever loved me: *salutes* You are truly respected.

To everyone that loves me now and to everyone I love now: You are truly appreciated.

Things I Learned In 2009 #6: There is still beauty left in this world.

P.S. You're the shining example of beauty still left in this world, Ladybug. *bacio di bacio*

Day 318 (Twice)

2009-11-16T00:38:00.001-05:00

Twice I turn my back on you
I fell flat on my face but didn't lose
Tell me where would I go
Tell me what led you on, I’d love to know

Was it the blue night
Gone fragile
Was it both men
In wonder steady gone under
Was it the light ways
So frightening
Was it two wills
One mirror holding us dearer now

Thought I had an answer once
But your random ways swept me along
Colossal signs so I got lost
With so many lovers singing soft

Was it the blue night
Gone fragile
Was it both men
In wonder steady gone under
Was it the light ways
So frightening
Was it two wills
One mirror holding us dearer now

----------------
Now playing: Little Dragon - Twice
via FoxyTunes

Day 313

2009-11-10T23:52:00.000-05:00

Things I've Learned In 2009

#5. I found out the reason why I'm single.

Before I begin, let me say this. This is in no way firing at every single female in world. I have yet to meet you. You have yet to befriend me. I have yet to talk to you. You have yet to lie to me. I have yet to give you my all. You have yet to disappoint me.

With that being said, let's begin.

My Ladybug tells me that I'm worth every dollar and cent spent.
My Poetess tells me that I'm dreamy.
Dimples tells me that I'm patient enough to wait for a good thing to come along.
My Sugar Momma tells me that I'm loved, every day, whether I know it or not.
My Mistress tells me that I'm a genius; that leadership is sexy, brains are sexy, therefore, I am sexy.
Chesty McSparkles (her name, not mine) tells me that I'm damn near incredible.
My Best Friend says that I'm awesome and someone one day will realize that.
Serendipity says that I'm a very good man.
My Sister says I'm one of the best single men left.

The problem comes in where these women are telling me things that I SHOULD already know. However, I'm dense. I can't get past that people are actually saying this about me.

I'm single because I have a self-esteem issue.

My self-esteem issue is the reason why I settle for those who can't afford me.

I settle because I don't know my own self-worth.

Well, I didn't. Until about a week and a half ago.

I love me enough to know that you don't (and won't) love me enough. Ever.

And you know what? That's OK. I had to come to grips about that.

I'm worth a hell of a lot. And one day, some woman will come along and hold up the receipt and let me know that she was willing to pay to have me. Until that day?

I sit in the glass case of my emotions and thoughts, waiting on someone who has enough to pay the price on my tag.

#5. I found out the reason why I'm single. Nobody worth having thinks I'm worth having. Yet.

Day 310 (Missing In Arrival)

2009-11-07T23:14:00.006-05:00

I'm nervous.

I've been up all night, knowing that you'll be here soon.

What do I wear? Which cologne do I put on? Hat or no? Argh. This is maddening.

I miss you. I've missed you for months now; missed your face, missed your smell, missed your laugh and giggles. I missed looking into your eyes. I miss kissing your lips. I missed hugging you, holding hands, playful fights, small attempts of PDA.

I miss your voice, even though I just hung up with you a few hours ago before you got on your flight.

I miss everything about you and even though I know in less than a hour you'll be in my presence, I can't get over the fact that I feel this way about you.

I'm not supposed to feel this way.

I'm not supposed to be this nervous.

I'm not supposed to miss you.

How can you miss what you've never experienced?

Day 306 (Princess Peach's Diary)

2009-11-03T12:45:00.006-05:00

Dear Diary,

I think I may have put the Mushroom Kingdom in danger. I don't know what I was thinking. It just kinda happened.

I left Mario. For Luigi.

I know, I know. That's bad enough. What's worse is that he didn't even find out from me, I posted it on The Mushroom Inquirer.

I love Mario. I do. I've told him so, on numerous occasions. He's always been there for me, helping me, making sure I'm ok, just being him. He never asked for anything in return. He's an overall great guy, it's just that...

Luigi is tall. Slim. Talented. Aesthetically pleasing. I'm not saying Mario isn't any of these things- ok, yeah, I am. But I'm a woman.

I can make my own decisions.

I still haven't talked to Mario about this. I tried to, but the words just wouldn't come. And he's such a gentleman, he didn't ask about what he saw, and I know he saw it. I don't know if he's mad or not. Actually, I know he's pretty pissed at me, because not too long ago (like maybe 2 months or so ago) I told him that I wanted to be with him. Of course, as you can see, that really didn't happen. Princess Daisy said that he's not showing any signs of hurt, but that's Mario for you. He might show a facial tic with anger, but then, it's gone and he's back to smiling and laughing and yahooing all over the place. Yesterday, he called me and asked if I wanted to go Go-Karting with him. So, I'm still kinda confused. This morning, he came to our Tee Time of 9AM. And we did play Tennis together Sunday evening.

I don't even know if he's officially not talking to me; I'm spending a lot of time with Luigi. He's Dreamland dreamy, got me thinking I'm in Sky Land or something. The other day he gave me a Fire Flower. To be honest, for a quick minute, I thought about Mario and how he used to do the same.

My problem comes in where, if something happens to me, who's gonna protect the kingdom AND come save me? As much as I like Luigi, he's not really all that without his brother. Yeah, there was those two times he saved his brother, but it took him a while. Mario was always there for me. Come to think of it...

Never mind. I don't even know why I wrote this entry. If I scream loud enough, Mario, as he's always done, will come to my aid. He's too much of a gentleman and a good person to let me down.

Besides, he's my friend. Friends are always there for each other, right?

Right?

Signed,

Peach

P.S. If I have to tell Luigi that he's still second player no matter how he uses Starman one more time, I'm gonna scream.

Day 304 (Rehab)

2009-11-02T00:31:00.005-05:00

Dr. Simmons gives me a once-over.

I fidget in the chair. I look everywhere but in her eyes.

She taps her pen on the clipboard.

"When was your last hit?"

I stare blankly at the ground. "Hit?"

She shakes her head. "Hit. Score. Taste. Fix."

"Oh. Um, it was 2 Thursdays ago."

She writes.

"What are you writing, Doc?"

"That's none of your concern. How do you feel?"

I look up at the ceiling. "Rested. Um, sometimes, I still want..." I trail off.

She raises an eyebrow. "Sometimes?"

"I've been trying to ween myself off the drug, you know? Actually stop cold turkey. It makes me feel really high and then when I crash, it hurts. This last time... I think I hurt myself. I got too deep into it."

"Self inflicted pain. You don't like that, do you?"

I shake my head.

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"I want to go into rehab with you, Doc. Try to get this drug out of my system. Detox, if you will."

"What if I offered you the drug now? Would you take it? Would you relapse?"

I don't answer immediately. She looks over at me. "Well?"

I sigh. "I don't want to relapse. I'm tired of the roller coaster. The highs are incredible, but the lows? The lows are terrible."

She writes some more. "You still haven't answered my question."

"No. No more. I won't get fooled into getting high again. I don't want an artificial high. I want a natural high, or maybe not even be high at all."

"Well, I'm here to help you, but you have to help yourself. You have to pull yourself up by the bootstraps and get back on the right track."

I rub my hands together. "Will I ever get cured?"

She stares at me. "I think that you'll be fine this time. It's different than from when you came in a couple of months ago. You're ready to leave it all behind and move on. I will help you in any way that I can. Did you do like I asked?"

I nod my head.

"So let's hear it."

I clear my throat. "Scratch. Itch. Feening. Fix. 2 dollars? Not enough. Steal some stuff, isn't that tough. Get a job. Get a place. Get somewhere to hide my face. Now I get my fix more often. Speech is getting better daily. I don't have to go without, as a matter of fact it's rarely. I look in the mirror, I sure do look different. Feel that way, too. Now I got my own personal supply, heh, who knew? I'll never sell it though, this Lady is my best friend. She was here through everything, stuck by me till the end. I married the dope. Tried to think of different ways to get high, but none works, nope. She gets mad, disappears too fast, simply because now I always wants a piece of her ass. My friend called, said to come through, stat. She's got something new for me to taste, it's called Crack. It's time to divorce you and leave you alone. You've already taken my car and home. All I got left is this coffee mug... I wish that you weren't my favorite drug. But you are. Time for a new high."

She smiles. "Poetry?"

I nod my head. And for the first time, I look her directly in her eyes. "It was the only way I could express myself."

She stands up. "Well, I certainly didn't expect you to express yourself in this way; I must say, it was quite enlightening. We're done here for today, but let me leave you with this: take your time. In due time, everything you want to get out of this program will come to you if you do what you need to do and follow my directions down to the letter. Understood?"

I nod my head. I exhale.

Time to start detox. I'm in rehab.

----------------
Now playing: Jay-Z Feat. Pharrell - I Know
via FoxyTunes

Day 286 (The Barbie Standard)

2009-10-14T22:35:00.001-04:00

Things I Learned In 2009

#4. There are women who actually want to be Barbies.

If you consider yourself a "Barbie" anything, you might not want to read this.

Still here? OK. I gave you fair warning.

I hope you got some Kevlar.

There is a alarming trend spreading like wildfire throughout the female gender. No one quite knows where it started, but what I can do is show you it's biggest offender:

This here is the 'Harajuku Barbie' herself, Nicki Minaj.

First off, let's see exactly what a Barbie is:

Barbie is a fashion doll manufactured by the American toy-company Mattel, Inc. and launched in March 1959. American businesswoman Ruth Handler (1916-2002) is credited with the creation of the doll using a German doll called Bild Lilli as her 'inspiration'.

So, it's a toy. A children's toy at that. But what makes a grown woman want to be a children's toy?

Barbie syndrome is a term used to loosely describe the desire to have a physical appearance and lifestyle representative of the infamous Barbie doll. It is most often associated with pre-teen and adolescent females but is applicable to any age group. Usually it is female youth that will attempt because it is associated with puberty and the awkward stages. The child will want to look her best and most beautiful to males and believes in looking beautiful like Barbie, though Barbie has radical body proportions. Someone afflicted with Barbie syndrome strives for an unattainable body type.

Barbie syndrome, huh? So, let's get this right. Grown women, all around the country (and world) are calling themselves Barbies. They want to be fashionistas, have the body type, and pretty much attract any man they can. But let's look at Barbie's proportions:

A standard Barbie doll is 11.5 inches tall, giving a height of 5 feet 9 inches at 1/6 scale. Barbie's vital statistics have been estimated at 36 inches (chest), 18 inches (waist) and 33 inches (hips). According to research by the University Central Hospital in Helsinki, Finland, she would lack the 17 to 22 percent body fat required for a woman to menstruate. In 1965, Slumber Party Barbie came with a book entitled How to Lose Weight which advised: "Don't eat." The doll also came with pink bathroom scales reading 110 lbs., which would be around 35 lbs. underweight for a woman 5 feet 9 inches tall.

So, let's get THIS straight. Women want to be called a piece of plastic that is underweight with proportions that are not only damaging to health, but nigh unobtainable?

That's sickening.

Every day, I log into Facebook, and I see ANOTHER woman calling herself a Barbie. I get on Twitter, and it's @BarbieBlahBlah or whatever their screen name is. I see a group of women ~~falling~~ failing for another trend, one that won't last. Just yesterday, I was in line and I saw a woman with a "Barbie" tattoo on her arm.

Women, you've got to be smarter than this. You're walking around perpetuating a subculture that is being led by THAT Queen Bee above. While everybody has their own subculture that they belong to, please, think smarter about being led around by a woman who really isn't what she says she is.

Being a Barbie means some things, but not what you think. If you're a Barbie; you're an airhead, you're plastic, malnourished, you can't menstruate, and you're constantly walking around looking for Ken, and that guy has no genitalia at all. You're not real. You're a figment of a woman's imagination and I can guarantee you that she didn't imagine this. Hell, she's not imagining anything; she's dead. What makes her figment worse is, she basically STOLE this idea from someone else. Not only are you not real, but you're not even original!

How about from now on, I want women to say they are WOMEN, not little plastic toys. You Barbies out there can try to dress this up any way you can; say that it represents power for a woman, or the ability to have what you want. Let me ask you a question: when did a Barbie ever have a job that didn't involve her bust? Hell, her little sisters Skipper and Stacy had real jobs. What the hell does Barbie do for a living? Eat and throw up? Wait for Ken to come home with that money so she can go buy her "Barbie Mansion"? Drive around in her Corvette and burn up gas all day? I've NEVER seen a Doctor Barbie, Real Estate Barbie, Lawyer Barbie, etc. But they had a Baywatch Barbie in a swimsuit. They had a Stewardess Barbie with the outfit so ridiculous that they took her off the shelves the next year. Is this REALLY the image you want to pass along to your children and nieces and cousins?

You really want to be fake? The second you come in contact with a little heat, you melt. Nothing about you is real, yet you want to be taken seriously. That defies all logic.

But by all means, who am I to stop you? I'm just an ordinary dude. Laughing at you along with the rest of the world.

Stop being plastic.

*shots fired*

Day 284

2009-10-12T04:06:00.001-04:00

4:06 in the morning.

She permeates my thoughts.

We are a volatile mix. A anomalous brew of the hottest fire and the coldest ice.

The result is something astonishing.

Her standing naked in the candle light.

Me inhaling the very essence of her.

She smiles at me. I smile at her.

We stand and hold each other.

Our love is a friendship caught on fire. We stand in the flames, feeding them while the flames feed us.

Our incorporation of our thoughts and emotions and feelings combine to make love.

Yes, we create our love.

We fight it. Not because we aren't ready. Not because we don't want one another.

We fight it because our love is a pure high; easily addictive, dangerously enslaving.

We get lost in our love. No one else matters.

Her kisses nibble at my very soul. My touch makes her tremble with euphoria.

Love.

It is what we are.

Day 283

2009-10-11T02:31:00.001-04:00

This is a quickie.

Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? Am I making believe I see in you, a woman too perfect to be really true? Do I want you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream, or are you really as beautiful as you seem? - Oscar Hammerstein II

That is all.

Haiku....or two...times two...

2009-10-08T01:54:00.000-04:00

Cries turn into moans
The pleasure was all mine or
Was it just for her?

Selfish with the love
Stop, look, listen, but don't touch
That job is all hers.

Throbbing sensation
Yearning for her wet embrace
But her well is dry.

Sheets pulled tight to face
Silly dry reality
Hello my wet dream.

Day 280

2009-10-07T22:51:00.000-04:00

Things I've Learned In 2009

#3. I haven't had many firsts.

Tonight, I was outside staring at the stars, just reflecting on a lot of things when I got a text from a good friend of mine, Shay. We chit-chatted back and forth until I asked her what she was doing. She said that she was baking cookies for the kids. She then proceeded to ask me what my favorite type of cookies were (chocolate chip, with peanut butter coming in as a close second) and then asked me had any female ever baked cookies for me before.

Outside of family, I hadn't had someone bake me cookies.

She felt bad. She said that it would be a first that I could have courtesy of her. I smiled and then thought about it.

When it comes to the opposite sex, I haven't had many firsts.

In my mind, I started listing all the things that I haven't had done for me (or to me) by someone else. Here's what I came up with:

-No female has ever baked me cookies. I had a cake baked for me once, however.
-Never had a massage or foot rub.
-Never received flowers. I've gotten 3 cards, all from my ex-wife, all at the beginning of the relationship.
-Never been cooked breakfast. Purchased breakfast, sure. But cooked? Nope. Not even by my ex-wife.
-Never fell asleep on a woman's lap/shoulder while watching TV.
-Never had a bath ran for me.
-Never had my clothes ironed for me.
-Never had a sandwich made for me. (This is true. Seriously, I was with someone for 5 years, and never once did I ask her to make me a sandwich and she did it. It actually turned into a running joke between us. As a matter of fact, we still joke about that now.)

There are many more, but those are quite personal, and I'm not in THAT much of a personal mood today.

I know that some of you reading this is thinking that the things I mentioned are quite trivial. As a matter of fact, I know some of you are like "Why would a man want things like this done?" It's quite simple, actually.

A lot of times, men like to feel appreciated, just as much as women. Sure, we might not want the same things, but those things let a man know that he's appreciated, even if it's just a little bit. While it wouldn't have to be an every day thing (or an every week for that matter) it good to know that someone cares about you enough to do said things.

I get on men all the time about letting their woman know they are appreciated. Tonight, ladies, I want you to take that special guy and let him know that while yes, you love/care about/like him, that he is also appreciated by you. Give him that little note in his work clothes or wallet. Wake him up to homemade breakfast. Run him a bath. Give him some flowers. Make him a sandwich.

I promise, while he may not say anything right then, he will certainly love the fact that you would do something like that for him.

And guys?

I shouldn't even have to tell you. Get busy.

#3. I haven't had many firsts.

Day 278

2009-10-05T13:22:00.002-04:00

Things I've Learned In 2009

#2. People misunderstood the meaning of Fairy Tales.

Cinderella was a beautiful woman. Her step sisters and step mother were jealous, so they make her do all of the housework. She couldn't tell her father, he was so in love with them, he wouldn't believe her. She cries in the basement. Her Fairy Godmother hears her, grants her the opportunity to go to the ball where the Prince will pick his bride. She gives her a stunning outfit, but tells her that her curfew is 12:00. The Prince and her falls in love, but she has to run before she can tell him her name. She loses slipper. Back to the maid work. Prince goes around town looking for the girl with the glass slippers. Step mother believes her two daughters are the ones who can fit the shoe. Nope. Cinderella can, though. Prince marries her, father is left with his evil wife and evil stepdaughters.

Snow White's step mother tried to kill her because of her jealousy of Snow White's beauty. Step mom disguises herself three times to kill Snow White, but 7 dwarfs comes along and saves her. The third time, they couldn't save her, but a Prince comes along and kisses her. Snow White wakes up and marries the Prince. Step mom is quite upset, but for her evil ways, she's fitted with 2 hot iron shoes.

Sleeping Beauty slept until her true love kissed her. A old fairy cast a spell on everyone in the castle and they were put to sleep. 100 years later, a Prince falls in love and kisses her. She wakes up, marries the Prince.

Little Red Riding Hood was eaten by a wolf, but a hunter comes along and saves her and her grandmother.

Hansel and Gretel we're tricked by their father (via their step mother) to be lost in the woods, only to be captured and almost eaten by a witch. They kill the witch, grab her jewels, and go home to a grateful father whos now alone because the step mother died.

Beauty and The Beast was about a Beast who was cruel to one old lady, and a fairy turned him into a hideous beast. Belle's father wanted to provide for his three daughters; two of which were selfish and spoiled. Belle, through a series of events, had to stay with Beast. They eventually formed a friendship, and through a minor setback (see: death), fell in love.

The Princess and the Pea had a simple story: Prince want princess. He found no suitable partner. Girl comes in from a storm seeking shelter. She claims royalty. Prince's mother doesn't believe her. Has her sleep upon 20 mattresses and 20 featherbeds with one pea underneath. Girl wakes up with bruise. Prince believes that only a Princess could be as spoiled enough to feel a PEA under 40 layers. They marry. The End.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. Or do you? What is connecting all of these stories? Here, I'll tell you:

Women get bitter as hell in their old age. Men are stupid. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time usually nets you what you've always wanted, provided you go through some hardship. Your step mother is a bitch. (Sorry for the crass language, but it's true.) Your father is a great man until he remarries. Then he is a punk.

Oh, and if you ever go skipping in the woods, a man carrying an axe is following your every move. (Where's Chris Hansen when you need him?)

I jest.

Seriously though, one of the most important things is this. Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.

Whatever the odds, no matter who is against you, even if it's family, if you step up and fight for what you want, you can succeed where others want you to fail. Keep your head up and stay focused on what you're reaching for. Shoot for the stars, even if you fail, you'll still be among the clouds.

Day 274

2009-10-01T21:53:00.003-04:00

This is my series for a minute. I can't promise you guys I'll do it every day, but I'll try to. Yes, I know there are 91 days left in the year, and I'll update if I learn anything new. But for now...

Things I Learned In 2009

#1. Everything dies. Everything.

Three men I watched when I was growing up passed away this year. Patrick Swazye, who I admired for doing Roadhouse; Ed McMahon was Johnny Carson's co-host, I used to stay up late and watch him be Johnny's straight man to his act; and Michael Jackson, who I loved, period. I honestly wanted to be Mike. Dance like him, sing like him.

Farrah Fawcett was an angel. Charlie's Angel at that. I remember my older cousin had her infamous poster and I used to look at it all the time.

Natasha Richardson was a very good actress. I loved her in The Parent Trap and Maid In Manhattan.

Bea Arthur, who was on Golden Girls, she's gone too.

DJ AM and DJ Roc Raida passed too. Two great DJs, both gone.

David Carradine, who was in one of my favorite movies Kill Bill, and also start of Kung Fu, died.

Dom DeLuise, a funny, funny man. Dead.

John Hughes shaped my childhood completely. His movies, whether written or directed, were the stuff of the 80's. I still quote at least one of his movies daily.

Les Paul made the guitar of legends.

Ricardo Montalban. Steve McNair. Ron Silver. Ted Kennedy. Vernon Forrest. Arturo Gotti.

This is just the celeberties. Let's not talk about Oscar Grant. Or Derrion Albert. Or Bernard Monroe. Or Jamaal Valentine.

Personally, I lost friends, I lost family, I lost a lot. I just found out my older cousin died 20 minutes ago. A childhood friend died earlier this year. I had a... I don't even know what it was. It was something special, I know that; no matter how short it lasted. And that's dead.

But while I learned that eventually everything dies, I also learned that I have the strength to carry on, to move forward. And that's the important thing; we carry the memories of what has came before us and died out. So, I need to change this first lesson, because that wasn't the lesson I learned.

#1. ~~Everything dies. Everything.~~ I have the memories and strength to move on and move forward.

Day 270 (Throwback)

2009-09-27T18:59:00.001-04:00

*I wrote this in 2007. A bit of a relapse, if you will.*

Untitled

I thought we was supposed to make it through anything?
At least that what I thought when I gave you that wedding ring...
Blessings and wishes rained down on us 3 years ago.
We shared our dreams, embraced our love, and let our fears go.
But now, a host of problems later,
Seems as if to our relationship we don't cater.
Forget getting an abundance of love, you can't even place the order.
No more home cooked food, you best run for the border.
We don't even talk... about nothing at all.
Looks like our lust for each other set us up for the fall.
Sex was good in the beginning, now, even that's fallen to the wayside.
So, nothing else is left for us to have in common, and you wonder why my emotions I hide?
Scared of you to find out the truth, which is what I believe
to be the end all, be all, final straw, last nerve to make you leave.
I knew about your boyfriend, saw him kissing your lips.
I didn't get mad, I actually gave him some tips.
See, those days where you said you was in class,
I knew you was at his house giving up some ass.
Sorry for being so crass, but I guess it needed to be said.
I want you to be with him, simply because our relationship is dead.
Or was it even alive in the first?
Place my trust that he'll treat you better, satisfy your thirst.
He'll be your Sprite, you'll be his Pixie.
We've gone too far for this to be fixed, see.
I had to learn how to let you go, it's better for us both.
A flower needs sunshine to facilitate it's growth.
I had to stop drowning you with rain or burying you with more dirt.
You don't need me anymore, and I know this is more hurt.
Band-Aids over bullet wounds does nothing but make things more sticky.
So saying this to you made things a little more tricky.
More complicated, more difficult, I keep saying more, but I need less.
Less of you, less of us, less of what we call stress...

And that's Love.

Day 265 (Purple Honey)

2009-09-23T21:21:00.001-04:00

Sexuality is at a peak
So let me take a peek
Not at your panties, no
I wanna see your soul so
Open your eyes, look into mine
Give me a moment, everything will be fine
Don't blink, I might not see it
What society wants, I might not be it

But you soul says 'I don't care'
And your eyes say 'Stay right there'
And you're holding my hands tight
And your moan says 'Cancel plans tonight'
And your hips say 'Come closer baby'
And your yoni's wetness is driving me crazy
And it's getting very thick between us, the air.
And I'm dying for another taste of your Purple Honey, that which is so rare.

Day 263 (Awkward)

2009-09-21T23:13:00.002-04:00

I remember the last time I saw her.

It was February of 2008. We went to Red Robin to talk about why we shouldn't date anymore.

Well, that was coming from my end. She still wanted to date me.

We were incompatible at best, plain wrong for each other at worst. She was a homebody, a non-book reader, didn't like ANY music, could care less about current events (worldly or pop), very reserved, almost shy.

I was the complete opposite.

So, that night, I wanted to tell her that while I think she's a good person (she was), I just don't think we mesh well enough to date. I'm too extroverted. I read a lot. I'm up on the news and up on pop culture. I love music. It just wouldn't work for us.

She caused a scene; first trying to beg and plead with me to work things out (as if we were already in a relationship) and then resorted to calling me all types of names, said I was out to "have sex with her" (mind you, I only HUGGED the woman, never even tried to kiss her, so sex was the furthest thing from my mind) and that I was racist.

That's right, she said I was racist. Because she's Caucasian. She said that she thought I was just trying to be seen as different because I was a black man dating a white woman.

Sad that she felt that way.

I started dating her because I thought she was interesting. You know how sometimes quiet people have that "thing" about them? Well, she did. And being the inquisitive person I am, I had to find out what that "thing" was. It didn't have anything to do with race; I love women, period.

Flash forward to 19 months later.

I was running errands today and I needed to make a quick stop. As I was in the store, I felt a couple of eyes on me. I turn and look, and it's her. She comes sauntering down the isle, trying to blink her eyes in some sort of seductive way; honestly, it looked like she got some dust in them. She looked different, hair went from chestnut red to dirty blond. She had shoulder length hair when I met her; now, she had the Kate Gosselin cut. It really didn't suit her round face. She lost some weight; I noticed that immediately. Not that she looked completely bad, but she didn't need to lose the weight, unless it was for health reasons, and I can't imagine that for her. She looks at me and the most awkward conversation I've ever had began.

Her: How are you?!? I haven't seen you in a LONG time!

Me: I'm fine, how are you?

Her: Oh, I'm doing great! After we stopped dating, I went on a small diet and started exercising. I lost some weight.

Me: ...I noticed. You look... different.

Her: Oh, the hair? *runs fingers through it, tried to flip what's there* I decided to get a bit dramatic, you know, not be such a mousy person.

Me: Mousy isn't really a word I would use to descri-

Her: And I got back with my ex. I should've never left him in the first place, but everything happens....

Me: *blank stare*

Her: Yeah, me and my ex are back together.

Me: So... you took a step back?

Her: *cackles* You always had that defense mechanism about you.

Me: That's not really a adjectiv-

Her: I think my tits got bigger. Look at them.

Me: *blank stare*

Her: And my ass? OH. It has gotten SO firm. Wanna squeeze it? It's ok. My boyfriend and I have an open relationship. It was his idea when we first got back together.

Me: *blank stare* So... you took TWO steps back?

Her: *cackles* You are so funny! And you still cute, in that boyish type of way.

Me: Um... thanks?

Her: I was thinking we should exchange numbers... catch back up with one another.

Me: I don't think that would be appropriat-

Her: I need a "buddy" if you know what I mean. He's not having sex with me right now.

Me: Um, I really didn't need to kno-

Her: I'll give it to you. You can have it. You can tak-

Me: You know what? Yeah, I think I need to go.

And so, I walked away shaking my head.

What bothers me the most is, I felt like she was serious. I'm a goofy guy, I can take a joke or two, and I have a good sense to know when someone is tugging my chain. But this? This felt like a sad attempt from a woman who got back with her ex because she felt like no one else would want to be with her.

It's awkward to see someone you used to date, and they try to make themselves more desirable for you, as if you'll just drop everything and say "Oh, I've DREAMED of a moment where we could possibly date again, thank you for giving me that chance."

It's downright depressing.

I see it all the time, especially from men. "Yeah, so, remember when you dumped me in high school 15 years ago? Well, now I got this new truck, and my house is paid for, and I can have any woman in the world." But you're trying to pick up an old classmate? On some old revenge thing? Fail.

Women are just as bad. "So, you know, after I lost 300 pounds and stopped smoking weed, I decided to get fake breasts. Don't I look sexy now?" No. You look desperate. No self respecting man wants a desperate woman. Fail.

There is something to be said about having a desire to prove to someone who "dumped" you that you're better than you were before. The problem comes in, in those cases, that it's not about being dumped, it's about not being compatible with someone. If you don't like at least one of the same things I like or you don't even want to attempt to broaden your horizon, then what's the reason for me to even get to know you, much less date you?

It's just my take on the situation.

Dating is bad enough, I don't need to re-date bad dates.

That's like re-heating already ~~burnt~~ cooked popcorn. The pop is gone, you can't get it back.

And it tastes horrible.

Day 262 (While you were sleeping...)

2009-09-20T14:14:00.000-04:00

The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

So, last night, I slept alone.

This is starting off good, no?

Seriously, I've been sleeping alone for a minute now. It's not a big deal to me, yet last night, I felt the pain of reaching out for someone who wasn't there.

It's funny; I learned to be by myself, to know myself and enjoy me... but it doesn't mean I like it. I wish I had a female laying next to me - me via Twitter

When I was happily ~~married~~ co-habituating, sleeping with her at night, even for those short 3 or 4 hours before she had to wake for work was... soothing. She used to hold me at night; she said she couldn't sleep comfortably otherwise. To have a warm body next to you, to feel their breathing patterns while sleeping ~~because their breasts are pressed against your back~~ because they are so close to you, to hold someone close and plant small kisses on their neck while they sleep, to feel them snuggle closer to you... it's a feeling that is simply wonderful.

And it's one that I miss. (The feeling, not her. Replace her with Kerry Washington, and I would have the same feelings. Maybe some extra.)

Mind you, while I have my own comments about "cuddle buddies", last night was the first time I could understand why some women (and men) have them. (For the record, basically I feel like if you two aren't good friends, you should never have someone of the opposite sex sleeping in your bed for nothing but the art of sleeping with someone, that's bad business. Even if you two are friends, be careful of the emotions and feelings that may emerge while half asleep, both good AND bad.) The late night talks about nothing at all. The intertwining of fingers and legs. Nothing sexual, but just.... closeness. Turning over and watching that person sleep; the facial twitches as they dream, looking at their REM (Random Eye Movement), that smile as they wake up and realize they are sleeping with someone they are comfortable with.

In all fairness, part of me feeling this way last night had to do with me just being alone. Not all the time; I'm surrounded by people I love, but even being around the ones I love, I noticed that they all have something I don't: a person to fall asleep with. I'm not gonna get into the whole "third wheel" thing, but sometimes, I wistfully look at my brother and sister and see how happy they are. Or my mom and her boyfriend. My grandparents, even. I see them, and even with all the joy I have in my life, and all the exciting things I have going on, I still feel a twinge of envy.

Envy about not having someone there to hold, or to hold me.

In the end, however, they are just passing emotions. They do re-occur every now and again, and they pass in that same 'every now and again' moment.

But while you were sleeping last night, I was awake. Staring at a ceiling.

Wishing she was here, sleeping beside me.

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Now playing: Flying Lotus - Tea Leaf Dancers
via FoxyTunes

Day 253 (The Self Imposed Embargo and Guest Blogging)

2009-09-11T12:38:00.002-04:00

So on Monday (which was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day © Alexander. Not to mention, Tuesday was worse), I decided to impose a embargo on myself and not post or use social networking for a while.

We see how long THAT lasted.

The reason for my embargo was simple; I just didn't feel like bombarding people with my sad, confused, and depressed emotions. I was (and still am) dealing with an important issue in my life, and I just don't think it needed to be put out there.

Besides, I didn't want to have to answer the Million Dollar Question: What's wrong?

Answering that would've been a 45 minute ~~soliloquy~~ conversation.

What lifted my embargo, however, was a request from a friend of mine in NC, Alise. She asked me to guest blog for today, and I obliged. Two reasons; one, it was a favor for a friend, and two, I could get some of these emotions off my chest without having to explain what happened.

I succeeded in both.

So, without making you wait any longer, here's the link to Alise's WONDERFUL blog.

Black Woman Lost And Found

Also, I did an editorial in July on another site. I think that I raised some important points and questions. Please, feel free to visit my two female ATLiens on their site.

ATL State Of Mind

I have some other sites I'll be guest blogging for in the upcoming weeks, so be sure to keep checking back. As always, however, the place to get my weird, yet always honest point of view will always be here.

Blogs Of The Invisible Soul

Stop by. Take a look. I promise, you'll like what I have to say, or your money back.

*Seeing as you REALLY didn't put any money in, I'd say that's a win-win, no?

~She Hate Me

...

2009-09-06T01:13:00.004-04:00

raw emotion
pure devotion
that's what you wanted right
but it's not enough, like
we have to always fight
like, every other week, ending in goodnight
like, i'm not who i say i am
like, i don't kneel down and pray i am
like, someone better but there's nothing more than
what it was and
since i was at fault i
take it on the up and up man
i mean man up, dude
no need to be rude
to her, she don't deserve
what you're pitching is straight curve
but that's not true
to what you believe, you
want to be there but
you heart is nowhere but
where it wants to be
with her on her pillow
as she weeps and will o
will i keep promises to self and
play background up on the shelf and
make moves in silence and
keep us in balance i
can't keep doing this we
can do better she
thinks i'm ungrateful
so she spits out hateful
things that hurt more
almost as much or
maybe even worse
than that night, i write in verse
because at times i want to curse
myself for our ship's in a hearse
about to buried six feet under dirt
and i do feel hurt but
men don't feel pain
so i am questioning if i'm sane
i promised myself once
to never go here again
yet i find myself
back in the same position
and i find myself wishing
that we could just walk it out
but even then would we talk about
how you treat me now
and how i treated you then
and my treatment now
about you being more than a friend
when all i want is for
this ship to reach shore
but we are sinking too quickly
for us to keep it strictly
at arms length and
i'm losing strength and
my stamina's getting low and
that's the way love go
back to being jaded
thoughts are r rated
ready to be contested
and hotly debated
this is what's left inside
is these words that i scribe
i wish i could stop expecting
and just start accepting
that nothing is ever meant to be
not you, not me, not us, not we...

I can't say any more than that.

*steps back*

Day 242 (Mint Cookies And Cream)

2009-08-31T23:42:00.000-04:00

What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from. - T.S. Eliot

So this is it.

August in Virginia ended the same way it came in: raining.

31 days later; I'm 31 days older, 31 days wiser, and 31 days have been added to my personal journal (which I share with you, my dear readers).

I went through some problems this month; some serious, others hilarious (remember my tweets about being vain?)

And I documented it all. I even took pictures.

Today started off bad. I didn't want to get up for work. When I did get up, the vehicle's battery decided that it quit me and my brother. What fun. I was late for work. My boss decided that she's better than everyone else, so she can say what she wants. I used my wit and sarcasm to shut her up.

But then...

At 7:07 PM, I received a text that made me smile from here to San Diego. And now, I'm here, writing.

I'm extremely grateful for each and every one of my readers. I'm taking the time out to thank you guys, for if it wasn't for you, there wouldn't be a reason to post this online.

What's in my future? Well, I don't know. That's the exciting part about it. I will probably do one, maybe two more Post-Everyday-For-A-Month blocks. I've got a couple of backlogs that I need to get out.

Don't think of this as the end. Think of this... as the beginning. Like how you need vanilla and mint and cookies to start making Mint Cookies and Cream ice cream; I need to live, write and for you to read to make Blogs Of The Invisible Soul.

This is only the beginning. I promise, there's some exciting stuff coming down the pipeline for me.

And I can't want to share it with each and every one of you.

As an old friend of mine wrote in my yearbook from high school: Laugh often, Love fearlessly, and Live in the moment.

*P.S. Hey, Serendipity. I love you.

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Now playing: Ledisi - Turn Me Loose
via FoxyTunes

Day 241 (Chocolate Trilogy)

2009-08-30T22:42:00.001-04:00

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love. - Neil Gaiman

I miss her something fierce.

My emotions are really sharp at this moment in time. I'm putting this down tonight as a time stamp on how I feel; not to say that it will change tomorrow, but as a reminder of how people get inside of your skin (in a good way) and how you don't want them to move out of it.

This is the end of my chocolate series, and the second to last post of my 31 flavors. I've been personal the past 30 days, and I'm about to get as personal as one can get on a blog.

She permeates my soul. She digs into the inner most recesses of my heart and pulls out feelings I thought I locked away for good.

Her smell invades my nostrils. I can still smell her, even though I haven't been around her. Every time I close my eyes, I see the very last time I saw her, and the half smile she gave me as she exited the vehicle. I still feel her hand on mine, feel the smoothness of her skin. I still hear her laughter and the hush tones we spoke in at dinner. I still taste the last words we spoke, how I think too much; the bittersweet taste of how she's right, and how I can't help it.

She plunders my every waking moment, and pilfers my every sleeping dream. Some (her included) would say that I'm in too deep, I need to fall back, I need to relax and let things happen naturally.

While I do agree with letting things happen naturally (and that's something I'm Dante Smith working on), I can't just fall back.

I'm in too deep, I'm drowning in love, and for the first time in my life... I welcome the sweet afterlife that'll come after I drown. Please, don't revive me.

Love is SO exhausting... yet so exhilarating and exciting. I'm addicted to her. (And she wouldn't have it any other way.) The thought that crosses my mind often, and what gets me so introspective is: What if she's just not where I am? This has happened to me before, where I've jumped ahead of the other person. What if I'm just crazy as hell and I fell for her too quickly?

Then I get the text that lets me know that I'm crazy, but not that crazy. She loves me too.

We're just moving at our own pace. And so, I look into the mirror every morning and remind myself that I need to give Love time.

I don't know if I really miss her or I miss the feeling of knowing that someone loves me just as much (or maybe more) as I love them. Either way, I know that I miss her.

I miss her something fierce. And I wonder if she's misses me too.

(And Serendipity, I already know you're gonna send me a text or call me and cuss me out. It's ok, by all means, please do. Yes, it's mushy as hell, but it's my feelings at the moment, and I do miss the hell out of you. You know I think way too much. *wink*)

----------------
Now playing: Röyksopp - Miss It So Much
via FoxyTunes

Day 240 (Pineapple Sherbet)

2009-08-29T23:58:00.001-04:00

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated. - Confucius

So, I'm gonna make this really simple:

I'm letting it all go.

Every last bit of it. All the so-called "problems". I'm simplifying my life.

There are too many molehills that I'm turning into mountains. It's not really that serious.

I realized tonight that I'm beating myself into the ground and I need to treat myself a lot better.

I'm moving forward.

----------------
Now playing: Flying Lotus - Slow It Down
via FoxyTunes

Day 239 (Raspberry Sherbet)

2009-08-28T23:52:00.003-04:00

The formula for achieving a successful relationship is simple: you should treat all disasters as if they were trivialities but never treat a triviality as if it were a disaster. - Quentin Crisp

OK, so let me start by giving you, my dear readers, a warning: Tonight's blog will be harsh. It will be full of vulgarities and truth. If you can't handle it, please, stop reading now.

You're still here?

Then let's dig in.

This is for the sorry ass men out there who treat their women like shit and release them back out into the wild for men like me to fix.

I'm tired of cleaning up your shit. MEN who are like me is tired as well.

You bastards won't treat your woman right, you disrespect her, you call her out her name and smack her around like her head was a tether ball, cheat on her, bring home diseases, and then decide that she's not good enough for you (or get tired of having sex with her), and leave her out on the corner.

On the outside, she's a strong woman. Very well put together. Hard worker. Then she meets me. And in the beginning she likes me. I show her attention, I call when I say I will, I'm gainfully employed, and I show all the qualities that she's looking for in a potential life mate.

The problem comes in when she feels like everything that I'm doing is too good to be true.

I tell her she's beautiful every day. She thinks I'm full of shit or hiding something. That's because your stupid ass never appreciated what you had.

I tell her that I believe that she can do whatever she puts her mind to and that I will always have her back no matter what. She thinks I'm just saying that so I can get her in bed. That's because your no expectation having ass don't expect nothing from your illiterate self, so you don't expect her to do better.

I call when I say I will. She thinks I'm out cheating. That's because you NEVER called. Well, you did, but only when you wanted to come through and smash with that disease infected limp noodle you got.

I give her money when she needs it. She thinks that I'm paying her for sex. That's because your broke ass never had no money, so you exchanged sex for money. (And let's get the record straight, it's OK to give YOUR woman money. If she's your woman, and you're supposed to be a team, why would you NOT help your team out? Only broke dudes swear every woman is out to stick them for that measly ass $50 she needs.)

I don't have a problem with a woman with kids. She thinks it's because I got 6 or 7 kids I don't take care of. That's because... YOU got 6 or 7 kids by 6 or 7 different women and you don't take care of the ones you DO have.

I don't argue loudly or raise my hand to her. She thinks no matter what I say, I will one day. That's because you beat her like a bass drum and then have the audacity to bring your pussy ass back to her with that sorry, half-assed apology. And can them crocodile tears, you couldn't act your way out of a wet paper bag.

I never once say anything disrespectful like her hair is messed up or she needs to get her nails done or that she's getting fat. She thinks that I don't care how she looks overall. That's because you were always on her about keeping her appearance up, but then again, your broke ass NEVER go get a haircut, clip your dirty ass nails, and you don't mind being 5'6" 375 pounds, but she better not EVER say anything about your weight because it hurts your feelings. Fucking asshole.

This is just a small example of the shit I have to clean up. I have to endure getting called too intense, too mushy, too clingy, or whatever is the term for the day because to you, EVERY woman is a ho, and you could never marry a ho, at least that's what the streets said. You think every girl you date has to look like Rosa Acosta or Halle Berry, but then, you don't look like Morris Chestnut or Denzel Washington. There is nothing wrong with wanting to date a dime, but understand that you need to treasure the woman you DO have. Stop trying to upgrade your woman and upgrade yourself, you uneducated, no dream having, dumb fuck.

I get sick and tired of dating a woman who is just fine the way that she is, that can do whatever she puts her mind to, and as soon as I say that she's lovely, I get the third degree because she thinks I'm you.

Fuck you, you rat faced bastard, I'm not you, and you're right, I could never be you.

I'll never let myself slip that damn low or be a failure like you.

Women, listen up. You are beautiful just the way you are. We ALL have issues, every last one of us. Embrace your flaws, and trust me, someone out there will do the same. You just have to stop settling for these wack ass, don't-do-right LITTLE BOYS who couldn't take care of home with $100 million dollars and an instructional video showing them step by step how to make sure your woman is happy enter your life. These dudes is backwards, they don't understand that if they make YOU happy, you will do whatever is in your power to make your man happy.

I would say that these are life lessons, but some dudes have never lived, so they've never learned these lessons.

Dude. You're lame. It's not a game so I can't tell you to step your game up. These are REAL women with REAL feelings. But what I can tell you is to get your shit straight.

But I don't even know why I wrote this. You won't read this. You can't read. Simple ass nigga.

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Now playing: Dj Rasta Root - Classic Example : The Rest of Dilla Vol. 1 Mixed by: Dj Rasta Root
via FoxyTunes

Day 238 (Maple Nut)

2009-08-27T23:48:00.003-04:00

No matter how far you have gone on the wrong road, turn back - Turkish Proverb

So, the post idea I had for tonight about envy has to wait. Don't worry, it's already written, but it just needs to hold off until I can edit it properly.

I need to get this off my chest, and fast.

I am lost down the wrong pathway in a maple forest. All of the trees look the same, and I'm starting to panic.

It's like drowning, the more you panic, the more water you take on until it just happens.

I made a HUGE mistake, and I'm starting to panic that I may have messed up something that not even *I* can fix (but I don't know if it's something that can just be "fixed", it could be my own insecurities that's making me panic). Everybody comes to me when they need something, but I need me and me isn't helping I.

That's scary.

It always seems like I take one step forward and two steps back. Everything starts to look familiar, like I've been here before and I can't really find my way out.

My will, however, will not let me give up.

I think that maybe if I use my two steps back as actual steps forward, I can find my way out of this with EVERYTHING intact.

This forest will change me. It will even damage me. But it will not defeat me. I will not give up, I will not back down.

I will not lose.

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Now playing: Jill Scott featuring 4Hero - Gotta Get Up (Another Day)
via FoxyTunes

Day 237 (Fudge Brownie)

2009-08-26T22:31:00.000-04:00

All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible. - T. E. Lawrence

Me: I think for me, it's not about being a author. It's about being heard. That's why my blog is named the way it is.

Her: That's deep. If nothing else, we have that in common.

Me: Yeah, we do... why do we have SO much in common?

Her: I dunno. Most people would go with the cliche' that "Maybe it's just meant to be"

Me: NO. It's deeper than that.

Her: *rolls eyes*

Me: Why are you rolling your eyes? It is. I believe that. I do. It HAS to be something deeper than just "it's meant to be". That's a cop out.

Her: Why does it have to be deeper than that? You don't think there are MILLIONS of others in the world, male and female respectively, who like the SAME things that we like?

Me: Yes, I do believe that. At the same time, come on. How many people find out they like the same things... like 90% of the same things? That's uncanny.

Her: Are you serious... MANY people like a LOT of the same things. Just means they have good taste. JUST now I am proving my point. I picked a random friend of mine to ask him does he like certain things. ALL of those things are things YOU and ME like... he likes them too...so does that mean me and him are meant to be??? NO.

Me: No, it doesn't. You're right. I don't have a counterpoint.

This was a conversation that me and Serendipity were having the other morning. What's bad is, I actually had a counterpoint. But I just didn't have the words to say it. It took me 7 days of thinking about it to actually say what I was supposed to say that morning. (Well, isn't this familiar? At least this time, I only wait 7 days instead of multiple years... go figure.)

Serendipity and I have a lot in common... from food to recreation to hobbies. I was saying to her that I found it uncanny that a person that I met when I was younger could be this... parallel to me later in life.

What I DIDN'T say, however, and what I should've said, is that in addition to us having that much in common, we have a magnetism towards each other. It's there: I feel it, she feels it. No matter how far apart we seem to be, we end up right back in each others face. That's undeniable.

Somewhere, deep in my heart, I feel like that magnetism is what is our major draw and why no matter what we go through (marriage, other relationships, years apart, etc.) we pick up RIGHT where we left off before. She's special to me, more special than anyone I've ever encountered.

We've been texting back and forth all day today; sending messages of laughter and love, and just enjoying each other. I haven't had that in almost 8 years. I was looking forward to my phone buzzing with a new text or chiming with a new email. My goodness, she just brings the biggest smile to my face whenever I think about her. I hadn't stopped smiling since 9 AM when I got her good morning text. My face hurts.

There was a moment (more like a couple of days) that I was scared of losing her. But she let me know today that even with what we have gone through, I am still dear to her and that she loves me.

That just really put a smile in my heart.

It's not a relationship thing with us; what we have cannot be defined by such simple terms. I don't even think I want to box us in by trying to pursue and label what we are; I'm comfortable with us just BEING. Of course, she might feel different, but... we're too cool for titles. We just ARE.

I guess all I'm trying to say is that I love her.

Mainly, I love her because I see myself in her. She understands me more than anyone else I know that isn't close family. She believes IN me, and that means so much to me. I want to take her all in, inhale who she is, or who she'll become, and get lost in it. I love her enough to embrace who she is, whether in a relationship or not. I even thought about changing the name of my blog.

Because in her eyes, I am no longer invisible. She hears me. She listens to my heart.

I love her enough to know I couldn't possibly love anyone else this much (that isn't my child). Not now, not ever.

So, if you're reading this, Serendipity, know that someone out here loves you to death. And that person is me.

No matter what we go through, I will always be there for you, just like you have always been there for me.

Love always, Mr. You Know Who.

P.S. Serendipity is the name of The Muse in Kevin Smith's Dogma. So yes, I am talking about my muse. And no, you STILL won't figure out who she is, unless she directs me to say as much. I love you too, dear readers. *wink*

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Now playing: Jay Dee - So Far So Good (featuring Common & D'Angelo)
via FoxyTunes

Day 236 (Pralines and Cream)

2009-08-25T23:35:00.002-04:00

New opinions are always suspected, and usually opposed, without any other reason but because they are not already common. - John Locke

Tonight is a quickie.

I asked a stripper today why a lapdance was worth $10, but her opinions were worth only 2 cents and her thoughts only half of that.

She couldn't answer.

Tonight, my dear readers, I ask you to dig deep and find out exactly what YOU think your thoughts and actions are worth.

Eat some Pralines and Cream. Enjoy yourself. And make sure people are paying what you truly believe you are worth.

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Now playing: Kanye West Feat. Nas - We Major
via FoxyTunes

Day 235 (Egg Nog)

2009-08-24T23:45:00.000-04:00

This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning. - Winston Churchill

Ex Girl

I wanted to title this next girl
But this is really about my ex girl
Who lead me to my next girl
Well, welcome to my world
Where the women are wonderful
But only in the beginning
I start with two strikes down in the 9th inning
We sat in her house that night, passion at a steady pace
Too busy not watching movies, not busy enough sucking face
She's getting hot, her breath is getting heavy
I got her engine running, she's purring pretty steady
And I haven't even pet the kitten, yet it's meowing
Hands on her bra strap, seeing what she's allowing
Time to stop idling, put my foot on the gas
I wonder what she'll say if I put my hand on her ass
She doesn't stop me, no red light here.
She gets the laser pointer, "Hey, kiss me right here"
~~I happily oblige, I'm about to do my duty~~
~~Hands live south, touching on more than her booty~~
Scratch that, those are just thoughts
What really happened is she got caught
With her pants down in what I thought was her house
While I getting her naked on what I thought was her couch
But it's really her husband's, the one that didn't exist
Until 20 seconds ago, now I'm getting pissed
He's pointing at me, as if I started the tryst
I calmly explain to him what was sure to be the twist
It's not like I knew where y'all lived beforehand
And stop acting as if you have a backup plan
Because what happens seems to come full circle, right
You think I'm brand new, I met you on a different night
About 8 years ago, when I came to my then woman's palace
And she was screaming 'eat me' as if you were Alice
And she was the cake, but I crashed the mad tea
Party as if I belonged there, see we
Were supposed to be together now, wanted to have a kid
Deep into life, and now you're about to blow your lid
Top, brain out, shoot off at the mouth about
How powerful you are, and how you got some clout
Now you throw a tantrum, ready to scream and shout
No need for all that bro, guess what, I'm out
Walked outside, got to my mode of transportation
Sped down the street, very little hesitation
Got to thinking a bit about myself and with some trepidation
Realized that I knew what was my next destination....

And that's all I got... © André 3000

(I wish I didn't have to note this... but NOTE: Fictional. Thanks.)

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Now playing: André 3000 - A Life in the Day of Benjamin André (Incomplete)
via FoxyTunes

Day 234 (Mississippi Mud)

2009-08-23T23:34:00.001-04:00

We climb to heaven most often on the ruins of our cherished plans, finding our failures were successes. - Amos Bronson Alcott

Do you take things at face value, or become bold enough to face the truth?

Sometimes just taking things at face value is cool. I mean, you get what you see, right? Damn, shorty is fly. Face value. Man, that dude is so cool. Face value. That car is nice. Face value.

But looking deeper can make you find the truth, and really, who doesn't want the truth? Damn, shorty is fly, but she's stuck up at times, like 24/7/365. Truth. Man, dude is so cool, but he beats on his women like they had Everlast tattooed on their forehead. Truth. That car is nice, but the damn transmission is shot to hell like them boys on A Time To Kill. Truth.

As a complex person, sometimes I cannot decide between taking face value, and finding out the truth. Truth hurts. A lot. And the truth is necessary in order for people to get by on the best of their abilities. I try to get by on my own abilities...but something seems to be blocking my progress, like myself.

Face value of myself is a cool dude, who loves his son more than anything, loves Nia Long *wink*, loves his family, loves writing, loves music, loves living life, loves his friends, etc...

But when I look in the mirror, truth is, I can't seem to get it together. Every time something goes right, something goes wrong, twice. However, I haven't learned to give up, and that is my greatest strength. I draw inspiration from those I know that have had grim times and haven't given up. It's just...

I want that... feeling. You know, that feeling you get when you do everything right, or when everything goes your way.... I've had enough of things going the wrong way.... but without that, how would I know when things go the right way?

It's just a bit of Mississippi Mud getting slung around tonight, it's no biggie. I can handle what comes my way, I'm MORE than strong enough to. I just needed to vent. I will use my failures to build a ladder to my success.

Well, it's bed time, I'm up too late. Work tomorrow. Come close, stay forever. I promise you won't be disappointed.

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Now playing: Little Brother - Dreams
via FoxyTunes

Day 233 (Pistachio Almond)

2009-08-22T22:53:00.000-04:00

A decision is the action a person must take when he has information so incomplete that the answer does not suggest itself. - Arthur William Radford

It's been 6 months since that night.

I'm on the couch holding her, watching the Real Housewives Of Atlanta. I don't know any of their names, all I know is that she wanted to watch it.

She being Ebony.

My soon to be ex-wife doesn't know that I'm here in North Carolina. It's better that way. After that night, me and Ebony began talking even more, she was driving up so we could have lunch dates and go out to dinner. At first, we were inviting Nicole, but then we started phasing her out once things got sour between me and Nicole. I started taking late lunches, "staying late" after work, but it was all to see Ebony.

Right now I'm supposed to be out of town on a business trip.

Ebony is laying on me, holding my left hand. She's twirling my wedding band around my finger.

"So, what's on your agenda when you get back home?"

"Well, I have to go back to work, I know that. I'm really enjoying my time with you, Eb."

She sighs. "So am I, Shawn, and that's part of the problem."

"Huh?"

"I want you all to myself," she muses. "I don't want to share you with Nicole anymore. Funny, I finally found a man who I respect and like, and he's married."

I kiss the top of her head. "Well, you got me now, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, but is it bad that I want it all the time?"

I chuckle. "No, it's not bad at all. You think I don't feel the same way? Hell, I took a week vacation and flew out here to see you. I even got a hotel room and told the receptionist to hold all my messages at the desk, I'll pick them up later. Come on, you gotta admit, that's crafty."

She laughs. "Yeah, it's crafty. Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Sure, ask away."

"Do you think that, even now, there's ever a possibility that you could work things out with Nicole?"

I sigh. "Honestly, I would like to know for my own peace of mind. If it's over between us, there's no need for us to keep going on like this. If we can work it out, then she needs to step up and let me know what we are going to do. I can't keep asking her about us, about our marriage..."

"I guess she's doing the whole Ostrich thing. If you can't see it..."

"...it isn't there. Yeah, I don't know. But... we don't need to go there."

"What?"

"I don't need that, Ebony. Not tonight."

She shifts again. She's still holding my hand, still playing with my wedding band. "But you two still have an opportunity to work things out. And it would be nice to see people that I care about get what they deserve."

I scoff. "She doesn't know what she deserves. I do, that's why I'm here with you."

"What makes you say that?"

"If she did, she would stop acting like she's crazy and just admit what she knows that I know that she knows: that we need to work it out or she's gonna lose me."

She sighs. "I know that feeling all too well."

"What do you mean by that, Eb?"

"I know how it feels to know something that everyone else knows except the person that needs to know it. I've driven down that road... I got off of it."

I rub Ebony's arms. "But, what if what you think that everyone else is supposed to know is not what everyone else thinks?"

"What do you mean, Shawn?"

"Maybe we aren't supposed to be together, Ebony. I mean, good friends, even being best friends is great, but what if that's supposed to be it? What if we're trying to be Pistachio and Almonds; two nuts that think they go together, but only in certain situations?"

I expected her to get off me at that moment and start cussing me out. She doesn't move, doesn't flinch.

"You know, what-if's have ruined many a people."

"Huh?"

"Shawn, why do you constantly think in what-ifs? Especially since the reverse can be just as true: What if we DO belong together? What if our whole lives, we've been building towards us being together?"

I shake my head. "If that was the case, that night wouldn't have happened the way that it did. It would've went down better."

"Do you think maybe it happened that way to see if we could survive it? Just think, if we can move forward from that, what else can stop us, besides us? I'm not going to run this topic in the ground... but just know that the decision is all yours."

I hold her tighter. My mind starts racing, thinking about the life I had with Nicole, how I would've waited for her, how I would've done anything in the world for her. Then I start thinking about the woman in my arms. She's almost everything I've ever wanted out of a woman. What is really holding me back? Why can I not make up my mind? Should I got back to what's familiar and comfortable or should I try something new and exciting, something that I know will make me happy in the end?

Decisions, decisions.

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Now playing: Duffy - Hanging On Too Long
via FoxyTunes

Day 232 (Black Walnut)

2009-08-21T23:32:00.003-04:00

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. - Aldous Huxley

Silence.
It is the most deafening sound there is.
I can't hear you. I can see you mouth the words to me.
I can't hear you. My heart was beating in my ears a second ago.
I can't hear you. The tears are streaming down your face.
You scream at me. You hit me. I stand there.
Emotions are gone. There's a stranger in my house.
And it's me.
I've changed.
I can't hear you. I asked about your friend.
I can't hear you. I asked about us.
I can't hear you. I asked about me.
When did I change? What was it back then?
Was it when? Maybe then? Or how about?
I... I can't hear you. You shake your head.
I... I can't hear you. You point at the door.
I... I can't hear you. You start to walk away.
Please, don't leave.
Please, don't go.
Stay awhile. Let me know the truth.
I told you I was Paranoid.
It's scary, my brain makes me see things that my heart knows isn't true.
I daydream of you. I have nightmares of you.
Tell me. Tell me that you love me. PLEASE?

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Now playing: Portishead - Silence
via FoxyTunes

Day 231 (Chocolate Fudge)

2009-08-20T23:13:00.000-04:00

No love, no friendship can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever. - François Mauriac

You're asking me to leave someone.
Someone close to me.
Someone who's been there, good or bad.
I... want to leave them all behind.
Just want to race to the sun, me and you.
Not the paranoid me, not the leaving you.
I mean the REAL me and the REAL you.
It's said that when you love someone dearly, that TWO becomes ONE.
So, I'm not entirely killing myself, just erasing all the bad.
Making way for the good that's coming from you.
Can we work it out? Can we be together?
If I tell you I love you, can I keep you forever?
If I go to sleep now, will you be here in the morning?
No more what-ifs, no more "I'll change."
Actions speak louder than words.
So let me show you. You deserve it.
You deserve to be happy.
I have an opportunity to make you happy.
Can I have my chance to give you what you deserve?
It's you. It's always been you. I'll erase HIM if I can have YOU.
2 will become 1. Let's race to the sun.

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Now playing: N*E*R*D - Run To The Sun
via FoxyTunes

Day 230 (Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough)

2009-08-19T22:28:00.003-04:00

It's beauty that captures your attention; personality which captures your heart. - Anonymous

I normally don't do social commentary.

Let me clarify what I just typed. I don't want to be one of "those" blogs; you know, the ones who regurgitate everything that's already posted somewhere else. I don't want to be labeled as whatever (hater, lame, shock blogger, etc.) because I have a different view on things going on in the socialite world; personally, I don't think any of my readers is THAT interested on how I feel about Tiny and Toya (I don't feel anything about Tiny and Toya).

But today... today, I have to make a statement, only because it hits home for me.

This is Amber Rose. Say hi.

Ok, now that the formal introductions have been done, let me discuss the problem.

Today, there were pictures of Amber and her boy/friend KanYe West in Miami. She was wearing a bikini... if you can call it that. If you're interested enough, you can look it up, I'm not posting those pictures of her; they don't have much to do with what I'm talking about.

What does interest me is some of the talk that I heard today.

"She's ugly."

"Why would you want to be with someone who looks like that?"

"Man, my girl needs to look like that; my girl is too big."

"Now THAT'S thick, (insert woman bigger than Amber) is just fat."

Mind you, these are all REAL comments made to me or around me today. I heard and read arguments from both sides. The Team Amber side and The Team Anti-Amber side.

Here's my thought's on Amber before I continue (simply because I won't talk about her again in this post): I think she is a beautiful woman. She's not my type, but that does not take away from the fact that she is very pretty. I'm just not attracted to her.

With that being said, I think that people take their own opinions as fact for everybody, when in all honesty, those are your opinions and your opinions ONLY. I think that my woman is the most beautiful woman in the world. I do. (Well, wait, um, she's not my woman, she's not even... look, I just think that she's AMAZINGLY beautiful...) She doesn't fit into Hollywood's "standards"; thin, tall, makeup on all the time, etc. But she fits into mine. Now, there's nothing wrong with you disagreeing with me ~~just not in my face, I've fought people for less~~; that's your opinion. However, don't try to get your friends and homies to jump in with you in saying that she's not attractive ~~because they can get they meat lumped too~~ because of what you think about her not having a body like Amber's (OK, last mention, I swear). It's just an opinion.

I personally don't think Halle Berry is all that. I said it. And I meant it. She's pretty, don't get me wrong, but she doesn't attract me. At all. If we were to pass in the street, I wouldn't turn my head; my eyes would follow as she walked out of my peripheral vision, but that's about it. (You can try to call me out on that if you like, but fair warning, I don't play fair.)

I don't dig skinny chicks.

And people confuse that with hating.

I can call a slim woman cute. I can say "She's got a nice appeal about her". But at the end of the day, I like my women to have meat on their bones. Now, I know that people are out there saying "But O, beauty fades with time". Who says? Some tired ass cliché? No, beauty, like time, like love, like perception, is relative. It only matters to YOU.

The type of woman that attracts me isn't 5'8" 130. Hell, if she's 130, she better be 4'10". But this is all initial attraction, I'm not going to delve into how personality comes into play when finding a life partner (that's another post).

Initial attraction. Initial reaction. Even the Venus Fly Trap looks nice initially to a fly.

What I want and need is women who are confident in themselves. Listen, if you're a big girl, trust me when I say, there is nothing wrong with that. I love it, personally. Sure, you're gonna have your men and women who'll have OPINIONS about how you should look, but what matters is how you look to you and the person who finds you attractive. That's it. (And really, it doesn't even matter how the person who finds you attractive thinks.) There is a set of men and women who find being over a size 6 attractive. (And for the record; Sherri Shepard, you are NOT a size 6. If you're a 6, so am I. Be real with yourself.) I am one of them. Not to say that women who are size 6 and under aren't sexy or pretty or cute or attractive to anyone else, but it's JUST NOT MY CUP OF TEA. That's my opinion. It doesn't mean, however, that I can't give them their props. This is why I have a big problem with Mo'nique. Not her size, no. But her having to tear down women that are smaller than her to build up herself and others? That's not cool, at all.

Those weren't jokes she was spitting, that was real life coming out of her.

I'm dark. Chocolate, as I've been called before. Do I have hurtful things to say about light-skinned people? No, I do not. Why should I tear down what someone else thinks is beautiful to build myself up?

That's my ~~long-winded~~ point. Men don't do this as often, but women? Women will tear each other DOWN to build themselves up, and it hurts me to see that. It's a turn off; seeing a cute woman hate and lambaste on another woman because she doesn't look like her. So what? You're not perfect either, and to be honest, anybody who's looking for perfect should kill themselves now. You'll never find it. I'm looking for imperfection. I like women who are bigger than normal (whatever the hell normal is), with dimples, short hair, cute smiles (even a cute gap); I'm looking for a woman who not only knows her flaws, but EMBRACES them.

No plastic surgery. No heavy makeup. No ass pads and body suits and fake eyelashes.

Just realness.

You don't have to be cooked to perfection. Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough tastes great. To ME. That's my opinion.

There's probably a person who thinks it's nasty. That's your opinion.

But that's all it is. Opinion. Not fact.

Stop tearing people down. What's ugly to you isn't ugly to me, so stop including me in YOUR opinions. Trust me, that "ugly" person has someone who you think is drop dead gorgeous all in their grill because they think that person is attractive.

Show me a person who thinks Nia Long is attractive, and I'll show you 3 people who are turned off by her. Not everybody has to look like whatever model you can think of. If everybody in the world was Quarterbacks, who would catch the ball?

Perception folks. It's all about perception.

P.S. Except for the woman I spoke of earlier. Oh, she IS the personification of beautiful. And that's not opinion, that's FACT. If you disagree, take it up with me and these two knuckle sandwich vendors I got. (Jokes, people. Jokes. The knuckle sandwich vendors part, not the fact part; if I could show her to you, you would think she's beautiful too. I SAID you would think she's beautiful too. Nod your head. Good.)

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Now playing: Outkast - SpottieOttieDopaliscious
via FoxyTunes

Day 229 (Cherries Jubilee)

2009-08-18T21:52:00.014-04:00

When you sell a man a book, you don't sell him 12 ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life. - Christopher Morley

Today, I decided to blog my whole day in pictures. Enjoy.

Couple of things to note:

Outside of the Twitter icon, The Smoking Section pics, the keyboard pics, the remain calm pic, the XKCD comic, the Blogspot icon, and Homer sleeping, those are real pics I took. Yes, I do eat Wheat Thins. My lunch was quite delicious, thank you. Would've taken a picture for breakfast, but I didn't have one. Would've taken a picture for dinner, but I haven't eaten (yet). The XKCD comic is... well, you decide on what it is. And yes, I do visit TSS often, almost as much as I Twitter. There's a couple of other sites that I visit, but I didn't today. This is exactly what I did today, along with clean out my email because I had a lot of stuff in there, both work related AND personal (*wink*) and I also had an interesting convo with Miss Amazing on Facebook and by text.

Finally, I did write some more this evening for another project that I'm doing (my book) and I brainstormed some ideas.

What?

Did you think I was gonna take pictures or screenshots of those?

Well, I'm sorry, dear reader, but life isn't a bowl of Cherries Jubilee ice cream.

Have a good evening.

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Now playing: Outkast - Chronomentrophobia
via FoxyTunes

Day 228 (Butter Pecan)

2009-08-17T23:53:00.000-04:00

It is not enough to conquer; one must also know how to seduce. - Voltaire

Method Man was right.

There really is a skin color that's Butter Pecan. Except she's not Puerto Rican. She's just colored that way. I initially thought her skin was caramel.

I rub her arms. Her back is to me. She snuggles closer, her naked body pressed against mine. She purrs ever so softly. I am holding Ebony.

Two hands rub my back and neck.

It's my wife, Nicole.

This is the ~~aftermath~~ afterglow.

I kiss Ebony on the nape of her neck and roll over. My wife has her eyes closed, but she has a grin on her face. Ebony is snoring softly.

"Did you enjoy us?"

"Did I? Did you feel me? This was... incredible. Wow. My mind is still blown by this. What did I do to deserve this?"

Nicole smiles at me. "You were just you. I have to keep it fresh in the bedroom, otherwise, I might lose you to another woman."

I fake frown. "Another woman? Unless it's Kerry Washington, I'm not going nowhere."

She giggles. I place my face in her neck. "So, how many times did you and Ebony do this beforehand?"

She pushes away from me. "Say what?"

I ask again. She frowns. "No, Shawn, this was a one time deal between me and Ebony. We did this for you, I did this for you. I'm not into women."

Still being playful, I answer "It certainly didn't seem like it, the way you were kissing and touching her. I think you two got each other off more than you did me."

Nicole shifts out of my hold and stands up. "I don't appreciate you coming at me like this, Shawn. After all, this is what you wanted, right? This was your wish, your DREAM. And now, you have it. But did you ever consider how it might make ME feel? I didn't want to kiss her, I didn't want to touch her, and I damn sure didn't want her to touch me!"

I look back at Ebony, who is still asleep. I pull Nicole into the bathroom and close the door. I sharply whisper, "Hey, first of all, I didn't ASK for this. I told you that it was a fantasy of mine, yes, but you also said that you were MORE than willing to do that for the man you love. Don't start twisting my words."

Hot tears run down Nicole's face. "And did you think about me while you was inside of her? While you were going in and out, pulling her hair, slapping her-"

"HEY." My eyes are wide and my voice is sharp. "I get woken up at 3AM for THIS? I didn't ask you to invite your friend, and I didn't ask you if I could have sex with her, you just bring this woman into our home and expect me to perform. I did. What more are you asking for?"

She slaps me. "I am asking for a little bit of consideration from you and you offer me semantics. I am asking you for a reason why you enjoyed having sex with her more than you did me! I saw your face, Shawn. You were loving every second of it. I should blame myself. As a matter of fact, I do. I just let you cheat on me, in front of me. That's my fault."

I rub the side of my face. "I didn't enjoy having sex with her more than you. I made love to you, I just fucked her!" As soon as those cliched words fell out of my mouth, I knew it was too late.

Nicole's eyes widened and she started hitting me. Punches were landing on my face, my chest, the side of my head, everywhere. I tried to talk her down, but she kept swinging. I managed to grab her right arm, but her lefts were coming too fast. She hit me near my right eye, and my heart starts beating faster. I finally catch her left arm mid swing and I push her against the wall mirror. Realizing that she can no longer punch me, she starts kicking me with her french manicured feet. I'm calling her name out over and over again, but she's in berserk mode, not listening to a word I'm saying. Finally, I had enough of the abuse. I spin her around, her face looking into the mirrored wall. I enter her from behind forcefully. She screams, and at first I was scared; scared that I was hurting her. As I was about to stop, she half screams, half moans. My heat builds in my belly, my passion and anger spilling out of me. I let go of her right arm so she could steady herself against the mirror. I grab a handful of her hair and pull her head back so she can look into my eyes.

"Does. This. Feel. Like. I. Enjoyed. Ebony. More? Hmmm? Look. At. Me. Nicole. Look. LOOK." Every word, my phallus is crashing into her, my body rocking into hers. She opens her eyes and stares into mine. My face is hardened; a twisted visage of what was once before a loving and caring face. She moans harder and places both hands on the mirror. She begins to grind into me, throwing herself against me. I am pushing harder than she is, and her head begins to smack the mirror. I slow down, but keep the pressure up. She begins to tighten her walls, creating a vacuumed pressure inside of her. My body, tired from tonight's events, cannot take any more. I feel the rush of orgasm coming. I slap her ass, let go of her hair and place both hands on her hips. There we are, in the middle of our bathroom, pushing and pulling and moaning and screaming. I feel her gush, and at that exact moment, I also come. Nicole moans and starts to shudder. As I being to separate myself from her, I hear the bathroom door creak.

As we look up at the door, we see Ebony, touching herself, bringing herself to climax. She lets out a hum, long and satisfying. Nicole and I stand there, watching, looking bewildered. I start feeling embarrassed and ashamed that I did this in front of Ebony. Ebony opens her eyes and sees us staring at her. A look of shock befalls her face. She turns away.

I let go of Nicole and walk into the bedroom. Ebony is already putting on her clothes. Nicole is standing behind me.

"Ebony, where are you going, sweetie?"

"Nic, I gotta go. I just- I don't belong here."

I intervene. "Wait, if it's about what happened in there, it's nothing to be ashamed of-"

Ebony holds a hand up. "Let me stop you right there, Shawn. While I am not ashamed of exploring my own body, I am saddened that I have brought all of this into your home." She looks at Nicole. "Maybe I was right after all. Maybe you weren't ready for him and me at the same time."

Ebony leaves the bedroom and goes downstairs. I hear the door close.

Nicole puts on a robe and races downstairs to go after her. I sit on the edge of the bed, wondering did I really go through all of that tonight. As I get deeper into my thoughts, I hear the front door open again and close.

"Nicole?"

As I look up at my bedroom door, I see Nicole and Ebony standing there.

This is getting to be a bit interesting.

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Now playing: Erykah Badu - Kiss Me On My Neck
via FoxyTunes

Day 227 (French Vanilla)

2009-08-16T22:17:00.000-04:00

Spend time every day listening to what your muse is trying to tell you - Saint Bartholomew

I have a muse.

I do. She's always by my side, when she wants to be, when she doesn't want to be, and vice versa.

The definition of muse goes something like this:

the source of an artist's inspiration; a force or person, usually a woman, that inspires a creative artist.

I look and talk to my muse every day. Have been for about 3 months now. Oh, but don't get me wrong. She's been my muse for a decade plus. Whenever I need to get through something, or I get a nasty case of writer's block, talking to her usually clears things up, and I keep moving.

Only once have I ever asked her to directly help me with my writer's block, however. And that one time, she helped inadvertently; she thought I was going one way and I went somewhere different.

I told her today that she was my muse; that I had been drawing inspiration from her strength. I got some news this morning, and while I'm keeping my cards close to my chest, it's some good news. Great news, actually. I shared it with her and her only (initially; I've told my mother since then) and she was very happy for me.

Of course, being MY muse, her initial reaction was a curt "Yeah, right". I smiled at that one, I know how she is.

We have a strange arrangement. Ever since we were kids, we've always been at war with each other, yet it was always that mutual respect and love that we have for each other that keeps us together. One minute we're happy and laughing and enjoying each others company; the next, we're silently mad, arguing, or giving dirty looks.

We're alike in a lot of ways, her and me. In high school, people used to wonder what kind of day would we be having with one another; one day it would be peaceful, the next, a train wreck. But that's what makes us US. I wouldn't change my muse for world; she's the third most valuable person I have in my life, outside of my son and my mom.

Some days, I wonder if she truly knows how I feel about her. I love her; I always have, and I know I always will, long after my body has decayed and turned into ashes. It is our joys, our arguments, or disagreements, our laughter, our happiness, our memories that fuels our love. We argue because I'm a sarcastic asshole who wants nothing more than to get my point across no matter how wrong I am; she's pretty much the same way. Well, she's not an asshole about it, but she can be a bit bi-... well, she's not a b-... yeah, so... no, I'm not calling her that. That'll be another argument. Um.... ok. Moving on.

She has been the source of some of my most memorable joys and the source of some of my most memorable pain. She is what I write about, every day, every time I open the notebook. When I am describing a female in my stories, there is some part of that fictional character that isn't fictional at all, it's her. When I am writing a poem about love, it is my love and respect for her that makes it possible. When I am upset and need to vent about how a female has treated me, it is our arguments that give me the strength to write. When I look towards a better tomorrow, it is her I want to share it with for I know that she is always going to be there.

No need on you trying to guess who she is, my dear readers; I'm quite selfish with this one. It would be like trying to figure out what makes French Vanilla Ice Cream french. No nickname, no crafty hint, nothing will ever make me give away the identity of my muse, unless of course, my muse inspires me to do so. No, I am hers, and she is mine, and together we will either rule our castle benevolently, or destroy it in fashion. Could I imagine a life with her? Sure I could. But I know I could never imagine a life without her. I don't even want to try.

P.S. I know that's the same picture I used for Day 212 (Vanilla). I'm tricky like that.

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Now playing: Mayer Hawthorne - A Strange Arrangement
via FoxyTunes

Day 226 (Icing on the Ice Cream Cake)

2009-08-15T21:19:00.002-04:00

Sex: the thing that takes up the least amount of time and causes the most amount of trouble. - John Barrymore

*Note: I know Ice Cream Cake isn't a flavor per se, but just ride with me, ok? It pays off in the end. Thanks. ~She Hate Me

The cell phone buzzes.

I crack my eyes open ever so slightly. It's 3:07 in the morning. Who is sending me a text at 3:07 in the morning?

I roll over to look at my phone, but it's not on the dresser. All of a sudden, I see the light come up on the screen in the dark. My beautiful wife has answered the text. I roll back over, half asleep, half mumbling.

"Who is it?"

I get no response. I settle into the pillow even more. Work at 8AM, so I have to be up at 6. No need to waste this last 3 hours of bliss-

Cold water splashes on my head. I am now wide awake, soaking wet, and looking bewildered.

"What the hell-"

"Do you mind telling me why you got somebody texting this phone talking about 'Where is my big daddy? I need him to come through and give me some of that GOOD loving.'"

I sit up, and shake the excess water off of me. "Wait, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you "What the hell are you talking about?' me! I asked you, who the hell is this?"

I stand up. Water cascades down the front of my boxers. I hold my hand out for the phone. "Let me see the phone, Nicole." She throws the phone at me, and my reflexes are still asleep, so I drop the phone on the floor. I pick it up and read:

Hey, sexy! Where are you? I miss my big daddy, when you coming back to give me some good loving? Call me!

I look at the number. "Nicky, baby, I don't know who's number this is. This isn't for me."

She fires at me. "That's bullshit and you know it. Who else is gonna call you big daddy, huh Shawn? I know how much you like to be called big daddy by me, so why not some other little floozy?"

I'm racking my brain at this moment, trying to figure out who number this is. I've never cheated on my wife, nor have I ever given my number out so some other woman who wasn't dealing with business. "Nicole, honey, this is a 336 number. That's down in NC. I haven't been down there since college. That was 6 years ago."

"Uh huh, but you do deal with people in Charlotte, right? Who says they can't make a trip up here to Virginia Beach, huh?"

"Nicole, you're tripping. Call the number back, ask who she's looking for. I can pretty much guarantee it isn't me."

Nicole sucks her teeth. She hits redial on the phone and places the phone on speaker. "Yeah, we about to see..."

The person on the other end picks up. "Hello?"

"Um, yes, you texted this number looking for Shawn?"

"Shawn? I don't know no Shawn. And I didn't text this number."

"Listen, honey, you just texted this number looking for your missing 'big daddy' and wanted to know when he was coming to give you some good loving."

"Wait, I wasn't supposed to text this number. I was texting a different number. My apologies."

Nicole sucks her teeth again. "Yeah, your apologies alright. Don't text my husband again, tramp."

"OH HELL NO! How you gonna call me a tramp? I said I was sorry for texting your funky ass husband, what more do you want? You Virginia women stay tripping!"

"HEY, you're not gonna talk about MY husband like that! I will come find you and wipe the floor with your skank-"

"You ain't got to come find me, I'll come to YOU!"

"Fine! Come on over to 37521 Kempsville Road, see how much shit you talk when you get here!"

Click. The girl hangs up the phone. By this time, I'm pissed off; I'm also hurt. "So, did you find it necessary to tell this woman where we live? And I TOLD YOU, I don't know that girl! I don't be giving my damn number out!"

"Baby, I'm sorry, I got hot headed-"

"No, Nicole, you just wanted to assume what you always do; that I can't keep it in my pants for you. I'm TIRED of you always accusing me of cheating. This is the second time this week! What do I have to do, attach a GPS to my damn belt? This is getting ridiculous. I- I can't take anymore." I start to walk towards the bathroom so I can dry off, mumbling all the way. "Got me soak and wet at 3AM in the damn morning. The hell she doing answering my phone anyway? I don't go through her shit. She must be out her rabid ass mind to think I'm gonna keep putting up-"

The door beats like a bass drum. I rush out the bathroom. "Nicole you KEEP your ass up here, do you hear me?" She nods her head.

I fly downstairs; no shirt, just some boxers on. I open the door to see a woman standing there. I can't shake the feeling I've met her before. She's wearing a black cocktail dress with a slit up the side and heels. She's caramel colored, about 5'3", very well put together young woman.

She's instantly taken back by my looks. "Um, damn. Wow. I'm sorry. Um, is your wife here?"

"Listen, it's all been a big misunde-"

Nicole comes down the stairs. "Let her in Shawn."

I turn around. "I thought I told you to stay upstai- What the hell do you have on?"

My wife is standing in some black heels and a black négligée. She walks over to the woman and kisses her on the cheek. I'm floored. My mind is doing backflips, my heart is beating way too fast, and my loins are getting excited.

"Shawn this is my friend from North Carolina, Ebony. You met her before, remember?" It starts coming back to me.

"That party we had here last year?!?"

Nicole smiles at me. "Remember I told you before we got married that one of my fantasies was to be with a friend of mine and my husband?" I nod my head excitedly. "Well, she's my friend, you're my husband, you already have your cake, and I think it's time for you to eat it as well."

I'm still standing in shock. "And her?"

Ebony closes the door and grabs my member. "I'm the icing on top."

Looks like I won't be going to work after all.

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Now playing: Usher - Can U Handle It?
via FoxyTunes

Day 225 (Lemon Custard)

2009-08-14T20:38:00.002-04:00

Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you. - Anonymous.

Just one sentence tonight. But it means a whole lot.

My heart is your piñata. How bittersweet of me was it to be the one that gave you the bat to break it...

Bittersweet. Like Lemon Custard.

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Now playing: The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony
via FoxyTunes

Just Venting...

2009-08-14T18:23:00.000-04:00

My mind is racing, I'm a little upset now.
I let you get me out my zone and I don't know how.
You actually have the audacity and gall-
Wait, let me start over before I stall.
See, I got enough problems I have to deal with
And I don't need an addition, especially not your bull$#!%
I look up, look back, but never straight ahead.
Call it a defect, irrationality, or a case of bed head.
Ugh, I got a bad head, bad thoughts, bad dreams.
You can call them nightmares, displayed on movie screens.
No need for teen screams, or adult for that matter.
Super run of bad luck, which mirror did I shatter?
The one I was looking into, trying to change that man.
But that man said he's staying, forget leaving, he has a plan.
But he never lets me in, so my thoughts are all hazy.
Now I got my friends swearing up and down that I'm crazy.
Because my 28 years of me being on this planet
Let me know nothing turns out exactly how you plan it.
So, my mistakes and things I did wrong I take and own.
And my gun just told me it'll never leave my heart alone.
So now I gotta start leaving my heart at home,
I have no permit for that concealed chrome.
The gun said that I left my heart unguarded,
And I'm trying to figure out when that started.
Because I never had ownership of my heart
It was some time ago me and it decided to part.
But how am I living? Am I still alive?
Or is this all a dream, of which the only thing I strive,
Is to wake up, because this dream is over.
Look at myself in the mirror and say 'I told ya.'
But now the question is am I looking into the mirror?
Or is the mirror looking into me a little bit clearer?

*said to myself while looking into... yeah*

Day 224 (Peach)

2009-08-13T22:10:00.001-04:00

When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the more polite names of hell. That is why we dread children, even if we love them, they show us the state of our decay. - Brian W. Aldiss

I miss my childhood.

I miss playing kickball. I miss gathering all the neighborhood kids for a game of baseball in the Spring, basketball in the Summer, football in the Fall and Winter. I miss Sideline Pop. I miss getting excited hearing the ice cream truck jingle. (Wait, who am I kidding, no I don't. I STILL get excited when that music plays.) I miss the candy lady selling penny Tootsie Rolls, nickel Fireballs, quarter water. I miss the frozen Kool-Aid in the Styrofoam cups. I miss the candy necklace. I miss playing Hide and Go Seek. I miss playing Hide and Go Get It two years later. (Wait, I still play that game, it's called dating now.) I miss my partners Larry, Chris, James, Craig, Mike. I miss nap time. I miss the graham crackers and chocolate milk for a snack. I miss the girls with the two ponytails on either side of their head, playing jump rope with their jellies on. I miss playing Criss Cross Applesauce in school. I miss coloring. I miss playing Duck Hunt and cheating when no one was looking by having the gun RIGHT on the TV. I miss watching Double Dare. I miss wanting to BE on Double Dare. I miss staying up late and watching Arsenio Hall. I miss going to McDonalds when it actually meant something. I miss actually enjoying King's Dominion and Busch Gardens. I miss field trips. I miss the lunch Mom used to make; the bologna and cheese with the ~~mayo~~ Miracle Whip, the little sandwich bag of chips, the single cupcake. I miss WANTING to drink Sunkist. I miss getting into fist fights, only to be cool minutes later because you're tired of fighting (and kids don't hold grudges). I miss going to the Children's Museum. I miss having (seemingly) infinite energy to do EVERYTHING. I miss milk racing (WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!?). I miss being creative for Halloween; forget buying a costume, use that money for candy, I'll be a ghost. I miss going to the movies and actually seeing something WORTH your time. I miss the playground; slides and swings and monkey bars. I miss running through the sprinklers in the summer. I miss catching fireflies. I miss doing something that, as an adult you know is stupid; but as a child, it was mad fun, like messing with dogs. (Until that one day you go to mess with it, the gate is open. RUN! © Ghostface) I miss going to the pool. I miss summer camp. I miss the music. I miss my first girlfriend, Ashley. I miss the feeling of that first closed mouth kiss. I miss the feeling of that first open mouth kiss, and how much you thought it was NASTY. I miss hunching. (I know I wasn't the only one out there hunching A.K.A. dry humping.) I miss learning something new and it BLEW your mind. I miss playing with yo-yo's, marbles, jacks. I miss playing I Declare War and Go Fish and Old Maid. I miss the sleepovers. I miss watching A Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time, knowing good and full well I was scared. I miss sneaking behind my mom and watching Eddie Murphy Raw. I miss playing World Class Track meet with the pad, and knowing you were never fast enough to beat Cheetah. I miss the school lunches, especially when they made their own pizza on every other Friday. I miss the toys that came in Happy Meals. I miss when Happy Meals made kids HAPPY. I miss the Hardee's/Carl's Jr. commercials with The California Raisins. I miss note passing. I miss having that piece of paper come back with the "Yes" checked. (Actually, I got the third box, "Maybe") I miss when Puppy Love was just that; puppy love. I miss going to the zoo. I miss going to the aquarium. I miss snowball fights and water gun fights. I miss getting dirty and having fun doing it. Hell, I miss actually setting out on your day to get as dirty as possible because you knew it was going to be fun. I miss Chico Sticks and Laffy Taffy with the jokes on the inside. I miss Now And Laters. I miss corny jokes and thinking they were the funniest thing ever. I miss school plays. I miss being in D.A.R.E. I miss seeing Smokey The Bear and McGruff on TV (and in school!). I miss having fun on Easter doing Easter Egg hunts and getting that basket full of candy. I miss believing there was a Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. I miss watching The Neverending Story. I miss He-Man and Transformers and Smurfs and Fraggle Rock. I miss Nickelodeon being a new channel. I miss WANTING to go to Sesame Street. I miss Reading Rainbow. I miss Brain Games and Saturday morning cartoons. I miss going to Plaza Skating Rink (P-Town knows what I'm talking about!). I miss foot races. I miss Michael Jackson's videos. I miss Conjunction Junction. I miss being amazed at fireworks. I miss McDonald's playground. I miss playing The Oregon Trail. I miss playing Number Munchers. I miss playing freeze tag. I miss playing Red Light, Green Light, Simon Says, Mother May I. (I actually miss the little electronic toy Simon.) I miss playing Candy Land, Chutes And Ladders, Sorry!, Trouble, Guess Who!, Life. I miss having my mom mad as hell at me because I played Pencil Wars with all my #2 pencils. I miss being a part of Pizza Hut's Book It! Club. I miss reading Alexander And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. (As a adult, I STILL feel Alexander's pain; I have them days now.) I miss reading Tales Of A Fourth Grade Nobody; Where The Wild Things Are; Where The Sidewalk Ends; A Light In The Attic; Falling Up; Superfudge; Choose Your Own Adventures; The Berenstain Bears books; Madeline (one of my FAVORITE books of all time, right there with Where The Wild Things Are). I miss reading Richard Scarry's books. I miss knowing almost every word to Who Framed Roger Rabbit. I miss watching Felix The Cat: The Movie, Rainbow Bright and the Star Stealer (hey, that was a good movie!), and having a cartoon crush on Jessica Rabbit and Ariel. I miss bath time.

I miss being tucked in at night. I miss my mom kissing my forehead so I can sleep good. I miss when Kool-Aid was the best thing ever.

I miss eating Peach Ice Cream while sitting on my front porch with my friends, laughing and talking the day away.

I miss having no responsibilities except for learning as much as possible and having fun doing it.

I miss being a kid.

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Now playing: Ghostface Killah - Child's Play
via FoxyTunes

Day 223 (Strawberry)

2009-08-12T23:54:00.003-04:00

A man falls in love through his eyes, a woman through her ears. - Woodrow Wyatt

"What's wrong?"

I stare off into the night sky, as we sit on the cold, hard bench. "Nothing. I'm ok," I respond.

"Doesn't seem like it," she replies. "It's almost as if you're somewhere else, instead of enjoying your time with me."

I sigh. I inhale. I exhale. I fidget. I inhale. I exhale. I clear my throat.

"Tell me you love me," I finally say.

"You know I do, Jay."

"But I need to hear you say it."

"Why?"

Exasperated, I ask "Please, just say it."

She turns her face up, contorts it, disfigures it until it no longer looks like the angel's face I've come to adore. She grabs my face, pulls it close to hers, close enough for me to smell the sweet mix of Chardonnay and Spearmint.

"Jay, -"

I see her mouth the words I love you. But for some reason, I can't hear her voice when she says it. I heard her call out my full name. I felt the vibrations of her vocal cords ripple through her throat and end up in my eardrums, beating a sound so sonically delightful that I almost shudder at the mere thought of the sound of her, but I don't hear those three words. I turn away.

Almost as if someone had pressed the mute button to cut the volume back up, I hear her again.

"You happy? I said -. And you know I do."

Again, those three words, those three words that I need to hear more than the sound of my own voice at the moment again mute themselves from me, almost as if I don't deserve to feel their embrace.

I look into her eyes.

The look on my face says I don't believe her.

The look in her eyes says she doesn't believe her either.

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Now playing: Coldplay - Strawberry Swing
via FoxyTunes

Day 222 (Chocolate)

2009-08-11T23:09:00.001-04:00

Love is the answer, but while you are waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions. - Woody Allen

No lights.

2 candles.

One red, signifying the fire between them.

One white, signifying the pureness of their love.

She stood before him, looking like Aphrodite, Venus and Hathor merged and became Beauty personified. She was wearing all black; black bra, black underwear. He swallowed, no saliva in his mouth; it was all on his chin and shirt. Wiping his mouth, he looked at her once again. She smiled, asked him did he like what he saw. He nodded.

No words would come.

She shook her head and asked him what did he like about what he saw. He responded:

All of it.

She laughed. He stood up, walked over to get a better inspection.

She was magnificent. Immediately, she was infinitely desirable; her eyes kittenish, her stance alluring. She smelled like jasmine. He kissed her; she tasted like the sweetest candy, her taste filling his stomach. He knelt before her, all the while his hands were exploring, touching, feeling. He looked up at her, and she smiled a smile that would rival even the best sounding Siren. Kissing her belly, her thighs, her treasure, he filled his brain with every topographical notch of her body using every sense available to him.

He wanted her; he has wanted her since the moment he had to ability to want a woman. This is what invaded his dreams at night, this is what flashed in front of his eyes every day, this is what made every day a joy to look forward to, this moment in time, right here.

When he was younger, he gave her poetry describing her African Gourd Breasts and Bread Loaf Thighs and Grass Roots Buttocks and Niagara Falls orgasms. No one ever got that reaction from him. Now, he's stunned by her beauty, he's lost in her eyes, his heart jumping from the arch in his right foot to his left cerebellum; his motor skills off, his coordination out of sync. He was ready to see if what he gave her years ago were true.

He enjoyed her as if he was a 4 year old child tasting chocolate ice cream for the first time in 90 degree weather. At that moment, nothing else mattered. He knew that she was beautiful. She was beautiful beyond reference. And he belonged totally to her.

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Now playing: Little Dragon - Scribbled Paper
via FoxyTunes

Day 221 (Chocolate Chip)

2009-08-10T23:15:00.003-04:00

I was born to learn, to grow, to expand, to love, to create, to enjoy, to see the beauty in all things including myself... But I was NOT born to be perfect. - Anonymous

So last night/this morning I was in Tiny Chat. Now, I haven't been in a real chat room in about... 10 years. Back when we were asking A/S/L. But this was fun.

I was in there with some funny people... including Just Blaze, who, in his own right, is funny as hell. It was only 9 of us, but it was mad fun, so much so, I stayed up all night and went to work with no sleep.

The thing that stuck out with the Tiny Chat with me is the beginning. I got invited to the room by @NaturallyAlise and another funny person @MeLaMachinko asked a funny, yet serious question:

Who the hell is @shehateme?

I drew a blank. The only answer I could give was I'm just some random dude from VA.

But that's not right. I'm not random.

So, I decided tonight to give an insight on who I am. It's hard for people to answer this question, because they try to use adjectives that will make them look 'right' or 'ok' in other people's eyes. And most times, that's not an accurate depiction of them.

This is me.

Born on May 21st, 1981 at 11:57 PM, I was the product of a summer love gone awry. I was a bright child, potty trained and reading by the age of 2. (I have the video to prove it.) I grew to be a shy adolescent, wanting badly to express myself. I turned to writing at 10. At 15, I finally broke free of my shell and started being me. By the time I turned 18, people didn't know what to expect from me, and I liked that.

I am a nerd, a geek, weird, intellectual, talkative. I think way too much. I am a sarcastic asshole. I play video games. I read a lot. I don't watch TV often, I can go weeks without it. I like my women short and thick. I can cook, I can clean, I can work, I can be funny. I can be a great listener.

I love music, all types; I love anime, I love dogs. My dream car is a 1967 Shelby Cobra and also an Audi R8. I'm fascinated with human emotion. I have a very vivid imagination.

I have a slow, yet powerful temper. It takes a lot for me to get angry (or, in one or two instances, I can go from zero to Juggernaut in about 2 seconds). I am cunning, cerebral, addictive. Yes, I have an addictive personality. I am a nympho, truly, I love the art of making love and having sex. It's about that bond you share with that one person, even if it's only for one orgasm.

Maybe I'm thinking too deep on that last one.

Anyway, that's just a glimpse. I don't give people the full view. The last time I did so, she didn't like what she saw. I know it's bad to penalize the rest of the world for something that one person did but...

Yeah. Me and my issues. I've got more issues than Jet. But we go together, and well.

Just like chocolate chip and vanilla ice cream.

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Now playing: Flying Lotus - Sao Paulo
via FoxyTunes

Day 220 (Chocolate Mint)

2009-08-09T23:01:00.000-04:00

Just remember - when you think all is lost, the future remains. - Dr. Robert H. Goddard

Oh, how true that is.

I was SO lost on tonight's post. I didn't even know what to write about, or how to come up with something. I guess you can say I had writer's block.

Until I just started typing how I felt.

Here's how my process works: Usually, I'll be writing the post all day in my head, and once I get a moment, I'll start in on it and get it done. Some days, I'll get a bright idea at the last moment, and I'll write about that. But none of that happened to me today. I drew a blank. I couldn't write. I don't know why. My mind is a bit cluttered at this point.

Right now, I'm thinking about going to sleep, but not really. I wish I could get the last word in. I want to play a video game, actually, but I don't know what I want to play. I'm thirsty, but what I want to drink is not in this house. Man, I have a lot to do tomorrow. Wait, tomorrow is payday! But all my money is spent way before I get my check. Buggers. (I actually just said buggers in my head!)

I said it last time in my blog, and I'll say it again: stream of consciousness is a hard thing to type out.

Heh, I know what, though. Me and my bed make a great combination, kinda like chocolate and mint.

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Now playing: A Tribe Called Quest - Find a Way
via FoxyTunes

Day 219 (Peppermint Fudge Ribbon)

2009-08-08T22:59:00.001-04:00

Mix a little foolishness with your serious plans; it's lovely to be silly at the right moment. - Horace (Ancient Roman Poet)

So, there are days where I have a little free time on my hands. After finishing up some housework this morning and taking a trip, I found I had a couple of hours where I could be leisurely. Well, I decided to let you, my dear readers, know what I do in my spare time if I'm not reading or writing.

Music is my life; I tend to take it very seriously. I feel as if there is one song for EVERY situation that you've ever been in, or that you'll ever go through. Hip-hop is one of the genres where I feel like there's a song for any situation I may end up in.

In hip-hop, one of the things that a producer might do is sample another person's song (taking a part out of a already done song and making a new song out of it). While there is much debate on the morality of this, I say that it makes for even greater music; besides, royalties are getting paid. Stop complaining.

Anywho, one of the things that me and my brother do is go digging for samples. Him being a producer himself (you can check him out HERE), he has a ear for samples. One thing that makes me smile is finding out who sampled what, and how the original song went.

So, one day, I decided to put the two together. I would take the original song and I would mix it with the new song... essentially make the two artists exist together in a NEW song, so to speak. I have an whole album of songs that I've done, and I enjoy it all the time.

I figured it would be fun to give you two samples of work that I have done. One is about 3 years old, the other, brand new.

Strung Out to Down And Out - William Bell and Cam'ron feat. KanYe West & Syleena Johnson

My Pokerface Make Her Say - Lady GaGa and Kid CuDi feat. KanYe West & Common

Now, you might boo me. You might say my work is pedestrian. You might even say that people have done it all before and what I'm doing is nothing new.

You would be right.

However, this is something I do to pass the time, and quite honestly, I think it's fun. Besides, some "hip-hop heads" don't know their sample history.

That's where I come in.

I wonder, who thought up to mix Peppermint and Fudge? Kinda like peanut butter and jelly; it just works, you don't really know why...

P.S. The song I'm listening to tonight I MIGHT post if I get enough responses to the other two. Remember, I've got a lot of these floating around...
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Now playing: Main Ingredient And Alicia Keys - Prove My Love To You But You Dont Know My Name
via FoxyTunes

Day 218 (Date Nut)

2009-08-07T22:54:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I dared to struggle. Today, I dare to win. - Bernadette Devlin

Don't know if you remember me, but I remember you.
So I can see the look on your face of "Tell me, who?"
I also remember not one, but two
You and your twin, Fiona, when we got of school at 2
15, minutes of your time is all that I'm asking
Maybe much less, I don't want to be harassing.
But when I had feelings for you that I was masking,
Lying and telling you the truth was some hard multi-tasking.
I will admit that I lied, cause being in lust is hard enough.
But telling you the truth now, that's just being tough.
Still don't remember? OK, what about prom?
When you made your sister try your dress on?
And I came to pick you up for the dance,
but instead, I got Fiona, and I got stuck in a trance.
Because it was something different about you, I could tell.
Of course it was something different, it wasn't you, that hurt like hell.
So I did what was necessary at the time.
I dated your sister, yeah, that was out of line.
But I was her first; story, script, and rhyme.
Now you starting to remember, I can see it in your mind.
She told you everything we did.
She even told you about getting rid of the kid.
And you refused to even believe that was something she hid.
So what? It was just something we did.
But, I digress, that's not the point today.
The point was for me to come and say,
that your twin, your sister, has finally passed away,
7 years after we decided to lay.
And maybe this will cut through the haze,
but when you disowned her because she had AIDS,
maybe you was ready for your own death,
because you know also, that you have it yourself.

(This poem is fictional. I know no one named Fiona or her twin sister. As a matter of fact, I know no females that are twins. I know plenty of male twins, but no female....whatever. The poem is fictional.)

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Now playing: Prince - Purple Rain
via FoxyTunes

Day 217 (Chocolate Ribbon)

2009-08-06T20:53:00.003-04:00

“If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything.” - Win Borden

Why do I feel so gone of the Patron?
This really ain't my zone.
This really ain't my style.
This really ain't my home.
I just reside here, I got so many ideas
My mouth the bottleneck, can't get them out here.
But out here is where I am
And I feel like my life is one big sham.
Too busy looking for a madam that'll settle for the man
But I guess that makes me the person I am.
Invisibility was a flaw and I fixed that problem.
Now I got new issues and I don't know how to solve them.
Should've stuck to being alone and jaded,
For now my heart has grown and faded,
Into a black coal falling into a black hole where nothing that matters could come and save it.
But it takes time and pressure and a little bit of pleasure just to get the diamond out to show we made it.
And the one woman who has rocked my world like the MJ song is so amazing.
She made me play cool and not act like a fool even though our 'tudes were blazing and raging.
So now, here I am, the box is on the table, and my heart won't act right or be still.
Here's my question to her, that's a promise ring, all you gotta do is say you will...
================

I wrote that 3 weeks ago. Tinkered with it. I wanted it to be impersonal. But it ended up becoming more personal than I imagined.

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Now playing: Kanye West - Say You Will
via FoxyTunes

Day 216 (Butterscotch Ribbon)

2009-08-05T22:25:00.003-04:00

A virtuous person promotes agreement. A person without virtue promotes blame. -Lao Tzu

So, real quick, because it's raining, the lights have already went off at work twice, and I want to get this out before midnight.

Have you ever had butterscotch candy? I'm sure you have, at least once. The candy is an... acquired taste. A lot of people like it (those that buy Werther's Original by the bushel) and some that don't.

That, in a nutshell, is me. I'm an acquired taste. Some people get used to me, and want me by the bushel. Others, one convo, and they are turned off by my sarcasm and dry wit.

Here at work today, I encountered a lot of people who got turned off by me, simply because I wasn't in the mood. I was already working longer than I was supposed to (with the fact that I have to be back tomorrow morning, EARLY) and I had a personal situation that I was dealing with.

So, of course, the stupid questions irritated me even more, the supervisors were even more grating, and I was at the short end of my stick. I enabled my sarcasm and I wanted to see how many people could tolerate me.

Answer: Not a whole lot.

I'm a bit much, I can agree to that. Too overbearing, too sweet, good/bad aftertaste. But I am ME. I'm not gonna change because a situation calls for it, no, I'm gonna change the situation because *I* call for it. It's more than enough shape shifters in this world, I don't need to become another one.

I'm just ranting tonight. Feeling a bit like Butterscotch Ribbon.

Not everyone can deal with the taste.

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Now playing: Jay-Z - Say Hello
via FoxyTunes

Day 215 (Orange Sherbet)

2009-08-04T21:01:00.000-04:00

What is 'real'? How do you define 'real'? - Morpheus

So, let me get this right. Sherbet is actually synonymous with sorbet? So, then it's not actually ice cream? So, it's just posing as if it is ice cream, but it's not?

Posing.

I've dealt with it all my life. People posing. People saying I'm posing. I always tell people, I'm exactly the person I was when you met me. I was always told, when people show you who they are, believe them. I don't just show the good and hide the bad, I show it all... in pieces. I give you little pieces of me on purpose, because there should never be one person who knows EVERYTHING about you.

But there have been times in my life where I've given someone huge chunks at a time and even all of me at once. Or, I at least attempted to. I did because my defenses were down, and I did things that I don't normally do. But those people are few and far between. Not everyone deserves to know me.

So when posing comes up on their end, and I see their true colors, sometimes, it gets me kinda angry because it's like, I'm the same goofy, silly nut job you met, and if I'm cool with you and who you are (or who you say you are) why can't you be cool with yourself to present to me? When they say posing comes up on my end, I tend to ask for details on how I might have been a poser. When the details they give me are just skewed versions of their reality, I shake my head and, if I care about them enough, try to school them on who I am, at least, that part of me that they say I am posing from. It doesn't always work.

Today, I got called sherbet when I'm really ice cream. It wouldn't have hurt, but it came from someone who I let my guard down with. It got me to thinking, maybe I really am sherbet. But then I thought about everything that lead up to them saying that, and you know what I got?

I got a bunch of unanswered questions. How did they come to this conclusion? Was it based on something I said? An event? Something I did/didn't do? Was it one thing?

I looked deep inside myself and found those answers. And I found out that at some point, you can't change people's perception of you, even when that perception is wrong, or based on one thing (reason, mistake, etc...). I had to melt away.

Perception, like time, is relative. It only matters to you. Einstein said “Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity.” When you're happy with someone, you see what they do as entertaining. When you're angry with that same person, that very same thing they do could be the worst thing ever. It's always about your mind state when you view someone, nothing more, nothing less. Your story will always differ from mine because of our differing perceptions. Always. Why? Because there's always three sides to a story, yours, mines, and the truth.

What will the truth say about you? Are you sherbet or are you ice cream?

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Now playing: N*E*R*D - Rock Star
via FoxyTunes

Day 214 (Coffee Candy)

2009-08-03T22:49:00.000-04:00

The greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. - Anonymous

I kicked off this morning with some coffee candy.

Not ice cream.

Patrón XO Café. In my coffee.

I had 4 24 ounce cups. I was speeding around work like a madman. My eyes were swollen, puffy, as well as red. Not from the liquor, mind you.

But from stress. And crying.

I fell last night. Not stumble. Not down on one knee. I mean FELL. Like I jumped off a cliff last night. I did and said some things that should not have been said. That and no sleep led me to drinking liquor this morning. I don't drink like that. I did twice before (you saw one result, right?) and both times, it was an unpleasant experience.

But drinking at work? That was a new low for me. I didn't know how to handle it, I didn't even want to go in today, but I had to. Can't miss money, no matter how bad I feel. Trying to avoid the questions of "What's wrong?" "What's going on?" "What can I do to help?". It wasn't really anything anybody could do.

But by lunch time, I got tired of feeling like shit. I still blame myself for everything, and I still take full responsibility for it all happening, but I needed to get out of this funk. So, I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and decided right then to K.I.M. And, for today, since I said that, there hasn't been a setback. I've been better, but I'm certainly better than I was this weekend.

I cooked some jambalaya and made some cast iron cornbread for dinner. It was good, I rather enjoyed my dinner alone. Had time to sit down and reflect. I'm trying to right my wrongs. I'm trying to fix it. But I can't. It's done. I went for broke and I broke down. While this chapter of my life is now closed, I realize that this will be my third day talking about it... and quite frankly, it needs to be my last. But before I sign off, I need to thank a couple of people.

First, to my brother (@TheStrength) and sister (@JaeKnotes). Thank you for being my guide in all of this. Thank you for not letting me quit, even though my emotions wanted me to, you guys let me know that my heart never quits, I wasn't raised to quit, and this is way too important to quit. This is my future we're talking about here. Yes, the Omie you know never quits, never taps out. And I'm still here.

To my cousin, @LSANTANA757. You've been there from the beginning. I don't need to rehash here, but you know what it is. Gold medals.

To my other brother, @Continental_Jay. Thanks for the talk yesterday. I needed that. And thanks for the drinking advice this morning. I took heed immediately.

To my broham, @ShermanHelms, thanks for the words, bro. Appreciate it.

To my lovebug, @MizLilBit. I know you're going through much worse than I am, yet you took the time out to console me. Thank you so much. I owe you some wings and some drinks. I'll come to Cali soon.

To one half of Mighty O's Angels, @DopeAlicious, thank you for keeping me in your heart. It means so much to me. I now know that all ATLien women aren't bad at all. *wink*

To @FunkPie and @mzphine, thanks for the kind words. Shai, you know I got you when we next hit up a bar.

To @SoulfulJenn, thanks for the kick in the pants. You're the main reason I quit funking around this morning. And make sure you try that recipe I gave you!

To my writing partner @darius_sinclair... *head nod* You know how it goes.

To my west coast brother @niccolus. Thanks for keeping me laughing, even when I didn't want to.

And finally, last, but certainly not least, to a person who've I've never had the pleasure to meet (yet) but is just as wonderful as her sister, sometimes even more so *wink*, Jenna. Thank you for talking to me last night and not leaving me to stew in my own juices.

To eat an egg, you must break the shell. To fail at obtaining a dream means you must first go for it. I may have lost it all, but I do know that at one point, my dreams were within reach. I had my Nia Long. I had my Prototype. I had a damn good woman. Greatness is measured not in successes but in failures. It is better to light one small candle than to curse the darkness. My small candle is hope. It's not all gone.

Coffee Candy. Good in small doses, but horrible in large amounts.

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Now playing: Mayer Hawthorne - I Wish It Would Rain
via FoxyTunes

Day 213 (Rocky Road)

2009-08-02T22:25:00.002-04:00

“The road of life is rocky and you may stumble too. So while you point your fingers, someone else is judging you.” - Bob Marley

Rocky Road is a pretty good ice cream. Chocolate ice cream, marshmallows, and the Coup de Grâce, nuts.

It mirrors my life right now.

I didn't get into it too much yesterday, and I won't do it today, either. I said I wouldn't blog about it, and I won't. But I do have some things to say, things I need to get off my chest.

First, the Chocolate Ice Cream.

Friday, July 31st, I spent the first part of the day trying to help my brother out with his wife's flat tire. During the day, I was feeling nice because I was getting attention from... well... we can call her Julianne Moore. (Don't think too hard, you'll never get it, unless you are her, which in that case, thanks for reading) Anyway, she was texting me and it made me feel wanted. Loved, even. So, around 4, I had to go to my Family Reunion's meet and greet, seeing as my FR was this weekend.

While there, me and Julianne Moore started our witty banter back and forth, until someone (I can't remember if it was me or her) threw down a gauntlet. Actually, I do remember, it was her, because I remember smiling at the fact that I love for people to dare me, just so I can prove them wrong. Anyway, moving on, I decided to follow though with what the challenge was. After some maneuvering and shifting, I got to where I wanted to be, where I thought I needed to be. That whole process getting there was hard work, yet it was very sweet. Hence, the chocolate ice cream. Next...

Marshmallows

I can still see it clearly. The low light was a bit disconcerting, but I still smiled at what I saw. Soft. Sticky when warm. Marshmallows. But you can't have rocky road ice cream without...

Nuts

I dropped the ball. I fumbled. I messed up. No amount of words from anyone else will make me think otherwise. 2 days later, things are still off balance. I can't think straight. I'm snappy, tense, depressed. I lost someone dear to me because of my stupidity. She says I didn't lose her, but the dynamic of our energy we had has changed. For better? Less than likely. For worse? I'd put my money on that.

On the road of life, there are hurdles. Hurdles that you have to jump over. No matter how many hurdles you jump, there is another hurdle less than 9.14 meters away. I'm jumping a hurdle right now. She has just chewed my ass out. She will never forgive me. I will never forgive myself. I can't escape this, it'll haunt me forever. I can't even finish this, the tears are hot and they are dripping on the keyboard.

Rocky Road, indeed.

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Now playing: Eminem - When Im Gone
via FoxyTunes

Day 212 (Vanilla)

2009-08-01T19:27:00.002-04:00

Everything that has an ending, has a beginning. - Me.

I had an idea for this. You know, spend the month of August doing 31 different posts about me and being more personal than I've ever been. So, I'm putting my idea to action. 31 days. 31 flavors. Let's start with vanilla. Plain, yet gets the job done.

So, here's what happened to me today:

Woke up. Got dressed. Had an important discussion. Went looking for a WalGreens. Finding one, only to realize that it was closed. Waited until they opened, only to find out that they didn't carry what I needed. Found another WalGreens. Got what was needed. Said a tearful goodbye. Stressed all ~~morning~~ day about an outcome that I had no initial control over, but dropped the ball. Went to a cookout late. And I am now writing this.

Yeah, it's plain, but they don't call it Vanilla for nothing.

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Now playing: Eminem feat Mariah Carey - The Warning
via FoxyTunes

Day 205

2009-07-25T06:28:00.001-04:00

Good morning, sunshine.

Nothing more I can really say. Well, just one thing.

This morning was the first one.

It will not be the last.

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Now playing: Foreign Exchange - Sweeter Than You
via FoxyTunes

Day 188 (The Dear Jane Edition)

2009-07-08T21:26:00.002-04:00

Dear Jane,

You know, a lot of females ask me if the poetry and blogs that I write are about them. A lot of females think that because of the friendship between us, that's it's all about them. Let's not get this one confused.

This is for you.

We are breaking up. And it's not me.

It's you.

Actually, we aren't breaking up, because we never broke down and actually discussed how we felt for each other. Wait, we did. But while I was forthcoming and honest about what I felt, you on the hand, decided to beat around the bush.

You decided that I was number 2.

And you KNOW how I feel about that.

And, just like I told you what was going to happen a long time ago when we were younger, it happened.

You realize that you want to be with me. And now I've moved on. You didn't want me when I wanted you. Change that. You did want me, but you were scared of society.

You were scared of how people would view you. True, I'm not what people initially think. But I AM ME. And that's the greatest thing I can be. And you liked me for me.

However, there were SO many other ~~hit it and quit it retarded fools~~ options, that you decided to put me on hold until you could get it together. You thought that I would wait forever for you. You thought that I would always be there.

You thought wrong.

I waited as long as my heart would let me. I tried to reach out, tried to let you know that those feelings, no matter how diminished, were still there.

Had you told me how you felt 6 months and one day ago, we wouldn't be here right now. But you didn't. And on January 8th, all of my feelings for you finally died. No need wondering what happened, I'll tell you.

Nia Long knocked on my door.

I told you from jump if she ever knocked on my door and we weren't right that I was leaving with her, and that there is no need to be mad because I told you from jump.

Well, she knocked. We talked. 6 months later, she's ready to go.

And I'm out the door. No looking back.

You had your chance. You had my heart, wholeheartedly. I gave you all I had.

And you rejected me. You tossed my heart aside like a broken doll that you were done playing with. And someone finally came along and they are slowly sewing my heart back together. And now that I'm getting better than ever, you want back in. Now that every other guy that you've been with has gotten what they wanted from you and left, you want to come back to me so that you can finally be with the one man your heart knew you were supposed to be with from the beginning but your mind made you think otherwise.

Well, no ma'am.

I love you. A part of me always will, I promise. But I hate you, too. If you ever need anything, don't call me. I didn't know that I could love and hate somebody at the same time, but it looks like I can.

This is my Dear Jane letter. One that my mind wants you to see, one that my heart had to send.

And this is for you.

Love always/Hate for right now,

She Hate Me

P.S. If at any point you think that this letter is about you, take a moment to REALLY think about who I'm writing to. If you catch feelings, more than likely, it's for you.

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Now playing: Murs - Silly Girl (Featuring Joe Scudda)
via FoxyTunes

Day 180

2009-06-30T17:13:00.005-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #30: I have a taste for the theatrical.

For the entire month of June, I have posted one fact about me every day. For the entire month of June, I've let you, dear readers, into a small room in my mind, how I think, how I act (and in certain cases, react) and how I feel.

Tonight, I want to give you a serious part of me.

I put that picture of The Joker up there, not because I am crazy, not because I cause chaos whenever possible, but because I, like him, am a freak.

A freak of nature. A freak of chance. A freak of circumstance.

A freak of life.

A controlled fury is what my mom calls it. My best friend calls it a calm surface, belying the strong undertow current underneath. I call it the force which drives me to be better. Most people, however, call it desire. I desire acceptance.

All my life, I have had a want, need, THIRST, for acceptance. I needed it from my family. I needed it from my friends, my coworkers, my schoolmates. I even needed it from you, dear reader. I open my comments. I beg, plead, for your attention. Tell me you've been here. Say a comment, like or dislike.

I wanted to be remembered. I didn't want to be forgotten.

I wanted to live forever, at least my name.

Alas, I am not naive. I am no longer jaded. I also no longer need your acceptance.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice to have. But at the end of the night, I will not lose sleep over how many people see my work. I will not become these other blogs and regurgitate what someone else has written, no. I will have my own voice, my own thoughts. I will write about what I love, what I hate, my experiences, my downfalls, my love, and everything else under the sun, and if you read it, fine.

If not, I have the best journal ever for myself.

I represent the strong black men out there who struggle. I represent the single fathers who do what they can for their children, even if the effects and rewards of their actions aren't seen for years. I represent the brother who is there for his family, the son who loves his mother dearly, the grandson who will drop everything to take care of his grandparents, the cousin who always gives advice, even if the advice is saying nothing at all. I represent the geeks and the nerds who don't have a voice. I represent the true children of the 1980's, and look at what the sons and daughters of the baby boomers have given us and want to change it. I represent the person who will stand up and say "I will NOT be a sheep. I have no strings, I am NOT your marionette!"

I am that voice.

I am the scorned lover. I am the insulted kid sitting alone at lunchtime. I am the nervous guy who wants to ask you out. I am the diary for each and every true friend that I have. I am the advice column. I am the friend, the brother, the best friend, the lover. I thought that I needed you, dear reader, but nay, I needed ME.

And I have me.

And I will become my own voice that rises above all the other monotonous sounds.

And I will be better.

Stronger.

Different.

A change is coming, ladies and gentlemen, whether you like it or not, hell, whether I like it or not.

I have a taste for the theatrical. I star in the biggest tragic comedy ever and it's called my life. I don't like to talk about me, so this has been the hardest month to write. Yet, not only was it therapeutic, I feel as if I've done it with grace, with flash, with flair. This blog, for the month of June, has been marked by an extravagant display and full of exhibitionism on my part. And I will continue to make it that way.

So there you have it, folks. 30 posts in 30 days. I will revisit this again in a different month... I think that month has 31 days in it.

Thank you for everything.

Day 179

2009-06-29T23:40:00.004-04:00

Just playing you guys, I don't know what I'd do without you.

Wait, yes I do. Have a long ass day. Anyway....

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #29: I'm not as popular as I think I am.

Last night, before I passed out from lack of sleep, I thought about doing a little experiment. I wondered if I were to disappear from any online activity for 24 hours, would anyone care.

The answer, I found, was a resounding NO.

I got one email from my writing partner, DS, 2 quick IM's from Chesty McSparkles (her name, not mine), and... that's it.

Not one Twit asking where I was. Not one text from anybody except for The Addiction and HAWT, and that's because we extend outside of internet parameters. Nobody cared that I didn't say one word today.

At first, it kinda bothered me. I'm from the old school of journalism, if they aren't talking about you (good or bad), you're worse off than you think. I rather be talked BADLY about then to be not talked about at all. Then, I thought about people's real situations in life. How, to some people, technically, I'm not real.

And I understand that. I'm just some words on a web page in cyberspace. If something happens to me, hey, I'm replaceable. The next fat man with intelligent wit that comes along gets my spot. NQA, NSA. (No questions asked, no strings attached) I just wish that it wasn't like that.

Alas, it is. And I'm cool with that.

I'm just not popular enough to care.

Fun Fact #29: I'm not as popular as I think I am.

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Now playing: Jay-Z - December 4th
via FoxyTunes

Day 178

2009-06-28T23:57:00.002-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #28: I am a hopeless romantic. Completely hopeless.

I don't want to say that I believe in the fairytale ending. I'm a writer, so I believe that even in "happy endings", the story is full of opening scenes, sub-plots, faux climaxes, anti climaxes, more sub-plots, major drama, and finally, the real climax, where everything comes together, and ultimately, you're happy with the end result. Or so you think.

But who am I kidding? I still hold out hope that in all of this that I've been through and will go through, I'll have the fairytale ending. I get to go home with the prom queen type ending. But I'm not writing this story. I'm only playing the lead role in it.

I make love look like an art form. I love so deep and so intense that I'm sure anyone following me would be hard pressed to top me, much less equal me. That's not arrogance, that real talk. A certain female told me that nobody has EVER loved her the way that I loved her, and she's pretty sure no one ever will.

That was a powerful statement at the time.

I love love, I love people in love, and I love being in love. So much so that I'm hopelessly waiting to be in love again.

Short, sweet, and to the point.

Fun Fact #28: I am a hopeless romantic. Completely hopeless.

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Now playing: Freezepop - Ninja Of Love
via FoxyTunes

Day 177

2009-06-27T22:40:00.002-04:00

30 Posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #27: I was a complete dork my first 2 years of high school.

I'm putting this embarrassing picture of me up so you can see that I'm not lying. I used to get called Big Zero. (I thought it was funny as hell, personally) I was a social caterpillar, not ready for the dangers of the social world. I was always with my best friend James, we had our own 2 person clique going on. I mean,we hung out with other people, but it was always during school.

I didn't get asked for my phone number, nor did I ever ask for one. I sat in the front of the class, being a nerd and a geek. I never got invited anywhere, I never went to the football games, I just went to school and went home. Have you ever seen Just Friends with Ryan Reynolds and Amy Smart? Yeah, that was me. I cringe every time I watch that movie, because all I can think about is that it's me that I'm watching, and I'm reminded of being shunned, being an outcast, being ridiculed, and being in love with a woman who loves me as a brother. Or so I thought.

The summer of 1997 changed all of that.

I decided that I would no longer be different in school than I was out of school. I honestly didn't want anybody to know how weird I was, but I was tired of the looks and sneers and snickers. So, I fought back.

Heh. I was thinking weird, people were thinking funny and outlandish. My Junior year was my breakout year. I started cracking jokes more often, and I finally accepted my status as a outcast, except with more charisma. But that's another story.

I was a dork. I was the dude that people either ignored outright or joked constantly. Am I bitter for it? No, not really, it made me the man that I am today, and for that I am grateful. I remember my Freshman year, there was this girl, who I thought was cute, but I didn't know how to approach her. (And her being a Senior didn't help either) So, for 12 days, I put a single rose on her desk, every morning. She didn't know who was doing it, and she would tell all of her girlfriends that morning and they would swoon and wonder who was doing it. Well, on the last day, I left a note saying it was me and that I just wanted to get to know her better. Of course, she balled the paper up and threw it and the rose in the trash.

She stared across the room at me the entire class with a look of malice. I'll never forget that look, because it reminds me that not everybody is open minded.

Coming up, I knew that I was different. I was sly, sarcastic, and witty, but nobody knew it except family. That made me cocoon myself into dork mode even more, because I didn't want to be a total social failure.

Of course, it was my fault for not believing in myself, because I was far from a social failure.

Looking back, I realize that I should've been me all the time, and I basically fronted my first 2 years of high school. At the same time, however, it WAS high school. If I could go back in time, I would tell my past self that the minute you throw that cap into the air at graduation, the past 4 years doesn't matter, not any more. High school becomes a memory, adult life is now upon you. Be yourself. if people like you (and they will eventually, you have that charm about you) that's fine. If they don't, then so be it, their loss.

Oh well. I'm of the mind now that I could care less that you "like" me or not. And that's how it's supposed to be.

But back then...

Fun Fact #27: I was a complete dork my first 2 years of high school.

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Now playing: Michael Jackson - Leave Me Alone
via FoxyTunes

Day 176

2009-06-26T22:54:00.003-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #26: I love a woman who's a good kisser.

*The following post has names that have been changed to protect the innocent... actually, they weren't innocent (they were VERY naughty), but the names will be changed anyway.*

March 3rd, 2009 @ 11:44 PM
Her: You kiss really well. REALLY well. Just saying.
Me: Oh really?
Her: LOL I have never kissed someone as passionate as you.
Me: Oh really?!?
Her: STOP! LOL I'm being serious.
Me: Ok, ok! Continue.
Her: You kiss... you kiss as if that kiss will be the last time you'll ever kiss me.
Me: You never know...

August 6th, 2007 @ 1:32 AM
Her: I was sitting here thinking and... WOW.
Me: What?
Her: Have you... have you taken kissing classes?
Me: LOL Are there even such a thing? And if so, no, why do you ask?
Her: Your kisses are intense. I'm drunk off of them. I still feel your lips on mine.
Me: I'm no expert kisser, I just kinda... close my eyes and go in. LOL
Her: You are... you are the most INTENSE kisser I've ever had the pleasure to kiss.
Me: Stop with all of that. I'm just me.
Her: I'm about to be a lush.
Me: Huh?
Her: You got me counting down the minutes until we kiss again, until I get drunk again. If you kiss like that, then I'll be drunk for a LONG time...

August 27th, 1999 approximately 8:30 PM
Me: So, did you enjoy our first date?
Her: I did! I was wondering if we could do it again.
Me: Sure we can.
Her: Listen, I don't want to be too forward, but I really like our time together.
Me: Me too.
Her: So, I'm thinking of locking you down.
Me: Locking me down. Really?
(She comes in close for our first kiss. We kiss for about 10 minutes)
Her: Damn. Mmm. Aren't you gonna invite me into your dorm room?
Me: Say what? I- I'm-
Her: If you can kiss like that, I want to see what else you can do...

3 different women. 3 different stages in my life.

In 1999, I met Eve. That was the conversation that we had after our first date to 4 Seasons down in High Point, NC. I wasn't ready to kiss her, honestly, I thought I would be a gentleman and wait until the second date. But she had some lips on her, and I wanted to find out how well she could kiss with them, so I was kinda glad she did kiss me. Good thing I popped some gum beforehand. I was young, and admittedly, I already knew how to kiss and kiss well. I learned to kiss from my babysitter. No lie. I was 12 and in NC. My aunt on my father's side didn't believe that I could be alone by myself, so she got the 16 year girl from next door to watch me while she was at work that summer. She taught me how to kiss, french kiss, the whole nine.

If I'm lying, I'm flying.

In 2007, me and Gina had gotten really close. I met her in 2001, and we had been friends for a while, but that year, we got extremely close. I felt a certain way about her, and for that moment, she felt the same way. So, I initiated that kiss. And we kissed. And kissed. And kissed. She was a good kisser, and I liked kissing her. So, for about 2 weeks, that's how we passed our time together. Kissing. That was nice. The conversation came from a series of texts we sent back and forth to each other.

The end of January, I met Captain Obvious. We clicked instantly. It was a spark between us, and it grew into a fire really quickly. We went out on a group date, and then she needed my help with something, so I went to her house. While there, we shared our first kiss... and second. And third. And so on. Our fire was white hot, and the fact that she knew how to kiss didn't douse the flames one bit. However, it wasn't to last, because we ran out of oxygen to fuel our fire. But it wasn't all bad, all the heat and pressure produced a diamond that I didn't know was there. That convo was also from texts. (One thing I DO like about T-Mobile, they save all your texts for up to 3 years.)

I love kissing. It's pleasurable, sexy, and most importantly, somewhat safe. I mean, yes, there are kissing diseases out there, but for the most part, it's better than having sex that first night. Also, you can forget someone you kissed faster than you can forget someone you gave it up to, so there's that plus as well.

Somewhere deep in my heart, I hope that the next woman that I share a first kiss with will be the last one I kiss for the rest of my life. There's just nothing like that first kiss, though. That first kiss sets the tone for the rest of the night/week/relationship.

From what I've learned though, the first kiss doesn't matter. Neither does the second or third. The last kiss is what's most important.

Fun Fact #26: I love a woman who's a good kisser.

P.S. If you pay attention well enough, and you think a little bit, you MIGHT know who I'm talking about. I doubt it, unless you are them, which in that case, hello, ladies!

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Now playing: Total - Kissin' You
via FoxyTunes

Day 175

2009-06-25T21:28:00.002-04:00

No picture.

No mention of his name. I don't want anyone saying I'm trying to gain in his loss.

But everyone knows who I'm speaking of. And my 25th fact is that I loved his music.

ALL OF IT.

I'm not gonna name certain songs.

I'm not gonna say how I used to dance and sing all of his stuff, watched his videos, waited up that night when that 14 minute video debuted on FOX.

I'm not gonna say how, at my brother's wedding, my oldest brother and cousins and I all did THE dance. All of it.

I'm not gonna be sad.

I'm not gonna mourn his death.

I'm gonna celebrate his life.

My childhood was spent trying to emulate you. I did all the moves, knew all the dances. I saw all the videos. I listened to all the songs.

I, in my own way, loved you. I miss you already.

Fact #25: I loved his music.

ALL OF IT.

P.S. No comments tonight. If you have something to say, get in touch with me and say it to me. Don't disrespect my thoughts and feelings on him, ok? If you feel a certain way, fine, go for it. But just know that my stand point is that I loved his music.

Day 174

2009-06-24T22:39:00.000-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #24: I <3 Gamer Chicks.

I do.

If you follow me on Twitter (and if you don't, for shame), you know that one of the people that I converse with is my big sister, my AZN HAX Ninja, Dioracat. She's a SRS (read: serious. Come on get with the lingo, people!) gamer, possibly more so than me.

Possibly.

Anyway, she's full of win, but she's not the only gamer girl in my life. My sister Jamie is also a big gamer, and while she's not as game savvy as she'd like to be, she can still whip anyone's ass in Kirby's Avalanche. Bet on that. My friend Torri and her sister Jenna are also gamer girls, with Torri being the adventure girl and Jenna being the FPS excellence gamer. One of my oldest friends, Kriss, plays RPG's like nobody's business. I won't go down the list of all the gamer girls I know (maybe because at the moment, I want to keep them to myself), but I will say this:

Gamer girls are full of win.

There is nothing sexier than a girl who knows her stuff about video games. A woman who can tell you everything about Resident Evil. A woman who knows all 96 exits in Super Mario World. A woman who could kick your ass in Tekken. A woman who has at least gotten to Mike Tyson, if not beat him. The only thing that's possibly sexier (to me) is a woman who knows her hip-hop. But that's another story.

Last night, I had a 3 hour conversation with Chesty McSparkles (her name, not mine). What started the conversation was she had a picture of a drink and she said that it healed for +500 HP and +75MP.

My nerd meter went through the roof.

Contrary to popular belief, there are gamer girls out there. They have their times where they play, and they have their genres that they are very serious about. They don't all play Cooking Mama or Bejeweled. They are not all goth chicks, emo girls or mousy women. I mean, the women that I've been speaking about are high end business women, web designers, HR operators, real estate agents, makeup artists. These women have families to take care of. They command respect and get respect. Their house is not some dank dungeon filled with cigarette smoke and closed curtains. They are not pale from lack of sunlight. They know how to interact with the opposite sex. Some are married, or on the way. Other have long lasting relationships with people. Their social skills do exist, and they are being used every day.

Oh, did I mention that all of these women are HAWT? They are not some pimpled face adult child with braces. They have the smarts and the looks. They have the careers and the respect. And they can play a good video game.

The Addiction confessed to me a while back that she LOVES Tetris. I could do nothing but jump for joy. Is it possible that I may have finally met my match in Tetris? (No.) She said that she likes video games, too. Not just girly ones, either. *swoons*

I would love nothing more than to find a woman who plays video games. It's not a deal breaker if they don't, but it helps a lot if they do. I play video games. They are a hobby for me, yes, this is true. Would I like to have someone who shares my hobby? Sure, why not? Is it a requirement? Heavens no. I like diversity in my relationships, and besides, I don't need a woman hogging up my play time when I do get it.

So, which one of you females is up for a good game of Street Fighter?

Fun Fact #24: I <3 Gamer Chicks.

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Now playing: Amerie - Take Control
via FoxyTunes

Day 173

2009-06-23T15:16:00.004-04:00

Fun Fact #23: I love to have interesting conversations.

I think that's the reason why I love Twitter. Once you weed through the daily speak about celebrities that you could care less about, you can find some interesting things to talk about. For example, right now I am carrying on a lot of different conversations; video games, areolas, who on Twitter that can get it, favorite producers of hip-hop music, how much I didn't hop on the Drake train, talking to my sister about cooking, etc.

Sure, to some, those conversations seem trivial. The problem comes in that the really good convos happen during the day, and I'm a night owl. I also work early in the morning, so I have to try to get involved in a conversation that'll hold my interest and pass my time.

It's seems funny, 5 years ago, I couldn't peel my eyes away from the TV and was only on the internet when I needed something. Now, I don't own a TV and my job/s has me on the internet 24/7. So I need to do something to pass the time while brainstorming (WHAT?!? I'm a Gem, I multitask) and while writing.

That's one thing that stands out when I go out on dates; the convo. If we can talk about how PETA has lost it's damn mind over an insect (which ISN'T an animal, go back to biology to learn some more), how the Iranian president is no different than the one we had in 2004, or how the closing of GM affects EVERYBODY and not just the workers, then that really sticks with me long after we part ways.

I just like to talk, I like to pick people's brains, I like to see what a certain group of people think about a particular subject. It's inbred in me, I have to communicate. I'm a communicator.

So, communicate with me. Ask me something, tell me something, it doesn't matter. Get involved. Be a team player. I don't bite, I promise. Unless you're a female and you ask me to. And even then, I only nibble.

Fun Fact #23: I love to have interesting conversations.

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Now playing: Slick Rick feat. Outkast - Street Talkin
via FoxyTunes

Day 172

2009-06-22T23:04:00.000-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #22: I write short stories too.

This is a throwback from 2007. It's called Dreams and Reality.

I awake to soft knocking at my front door.

Sighing, I sit up and stretch out a yawn. If they can come knock at my door at 2:30 in the morning, then I have every right to take my time and they can wait. Besides, who the hell would be stopping past my place at 2:30 AM? It could only be one person.

As I stand, I look around for a shirt to put on. Finding a tattered Donkey Kong t-shirt, I walk slowly to the door while pulling it over my head.

"Who is it?"

"You know who it is already. It's cold out here, open the door."

I shake my head. Of course I knew who it was, she's the only person who could stop by so late without getting laid out. Seems like I should revoke her privilege as well. I open the door, and, almost as if on cue in a movie, I also opened my mouth, but nothing came out except air.

Standing 5'5", she was as smart as she was stunning. Irish creme colored skin. Full lips. Slight gap in her two front teeth. Her eyes, which were two deep, green pools, stared at me, and as I swallowed, my eyes followed a trail from head to toe. Wearing a knee length black dress with open toed sling strapped heels, she looked phenomenal. Endowed, but not overly so, enough to wear the dress without support. A bit of a tummy, but nothing outrageous. Dancer's legs. Strong calf muscles. As she breezed past me, the smell of Chardonnay, Big Red chewing gum, and Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue perfume wafted into my nose. I missed that smell. I shook my head to shake the remaining sleep cobwebs out of my head and to shove those memories back on the shelf of my brain.

"Well, come on in," I say sarcastically while closing the door.

"Listen, I had a date with a real jerk tonight, and I needed to vent. I knew you wouldn't mind," she huffed.

I sigh. "What happened?"

"What is it with men and this whole 'I want to have sex with you on the first date' thing? He didn't even bother to get to know me or anything, it was just like he was going through the motions of a date. Sure, ok, you bought me dinner, but does that mean you automatically get some ass from me? Hell, you don't even know what I do for a living, all you could comment on was how sexy I looked in this stupid dress, which, by the way, I shouldn't have worn in the first place, because the temperature dropped fast-"

I hold my hand up to stop her. "You're rambling. Get to the point, so I can get some sleep."

She smirked. "Well, aren't you cranky?"

"You would be too, if you were jarred awake by someone at 2:30 in the morning. Especially if that someone was an ex talking about a date with another man."

"True. But it's you. And you aren't a normal ex, you're still my friend. Consider yourself lucky."

"If missing out on sleep is considered lucky, then I don't need luck," I replied.

She moved over to my couch, and took her heels off. Placing the gum she had back in its wrapper, she throws it in the waste bucket. She stretched, yawned, and scratched her hair, which fell slightly over her right eye. She looked weary, as if tonight's events simply took the vibrant life out of her. Bags were starting to form under her eyes, and she spoke as if she had a buzz going.

She asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I see you getting a bit too comfortable, and I want to go back to bed."

"Do you remember our first date?"

I shook my head. "I'm not going through this with you, not tonight. Listen, if you need a place to crash, fine, take the bed, but I'm not listening to another word about us. Oh, I forgot, there is no more us, sorry."

She ignored my comment and continued reminiscing. "You took me to Carraba's. You were looking sharp. We talked about everything, and not once did you say anything out of the way to me. You can carry a conversation, and, you were interesting to boot. Even after we parted ways relationship wise, I always thought that our date was the best first date I ever had." She smiled halfway. "What happened to us?"

"You know what happened. You left because you... wait. I'm not getting into this." I started to walk towards the bedroom. "You know where the pillows and blanket are, use them."

"I left because I was stupid," she answered.

I stopped walking. My back was to her.

"I left because I thought I could one-up you, find someone who was just like you, but not so... so..." She trailed off. I turned to her, and stared.

"So, what?" I asked.

"You have a penchant for being sarcastic. You're so good at it, at times, I couldn't tell if you were for real, or just joking. If you were showing your true feelings, or just being nice to me. I needed to know and instead of saying that, I just left. After we separated, I knew how to tell the difference, I knew that you cared for me. I only wish I could've known that sooner, instead of walking out on you."

My nostrils flared, my jaw tightened. I proclaimed, "Yes, YOU walked out on ME. And now, I'm about to do the same. Good night."

As I turned to walk away, she came from behind me. She gently placed her hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, "Please forgive me."

I sneered. "Forgive you? What we had... I would've given anything to keep you around. You acted as if I offended you, or hit you, or cheated on you. And now, after all this time, after I finally swallowed what feelings I did have for you, just to salvage a friendship YOU wanted, here you go, 6 months later, in my home, asking me what went wrong, as if our relationship just fell apart of it's own will. Sure, I'll forgive you, in due time. But tonight, sweetheart, isn't that time. And tomorrow isn't looking too good either. Good night."

Before I could go into the bedroom, she grabs my hand. I turn to say something else, but before I could, she kisses me. I grab her arms gently and pull her away. I lick my lips, and the taste of the wine mixed with the gum she had earlier danced on my tongue. I look at her, and I see the pool of tears start to form in her eyes. My heart races, I can't stand to see her cry. I wipe the two tears that start to fall away. She shudders at my touch. I move her hair from her right eye to catch a good look at her whole face. I missed her, more than she knew, simply because I didn't have the guts to tell her. She looks down at the floor. I pick her chin up, and before she could turn away, I kiss her. It was a soft kiss, one meant to let her know that I still care. She pulls her head back, almost unsure what the kiss meant. She then comes in for another kiss. I tried to not kiss her again, tried not to pick at this old wound that I have on my heart, but it was too late. We start kissing slowly. Her mouth opened partly, and her tongue was on mine in an instant.

I backed her slowly to the wall, kissing along the way. She moaned softly, rubbing her hands across my back and head. The kissing was getting more intense, and I placed my hands on the small of her back. She started kissing me harder. I took my left hand and pulled her right leg up on my hip. She responds by moving her left leg on my hip as well, making me support her medium frame by putting my hands on her backside. We continue to kiss, and as I do so, I start moving my hands up her dress. She stops kissing me, breathing heavily. She looks into my eyes.

"Tell me," she pleaded.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me you still want me. Better yet, show me."

I shifted my weight, put her down on her feet. I take her hand into mine and lead her into the bedroom. I sit on the edge of the bed, she stands in between my legs. I kiss her belly, she rubs my head. I slowly move my hands up her thighs, up the dress. I touch that spot, and I could feel the warmth and growing moisture through her underwear. She pulls my shirt over my head and throws it somewhere.

I didn't care if she threw the shirt out the window.

I place my hands back up under the dress. I feel her butt through the lace, and as I pull the dress up, I see she has on boyshorts. I start to pull them down and she parts her legs ever so slowly, so I can let them fall to the floor. I touch her honeycomb again, and I can feel the heat flaring from her.

She lets out a soft moan while pushing me down on the bed. She reaches for my boxers and pull them off. She looks at my manhood and smiles.

"I assume the condoms are in the same place," she whispered lustfully. I nod my head. She moves to the nightstand, pulls out the prophylactic, opens the package, and comes back to me. With the expertise of a sex education teacher, she places it on me, double checks to make sure it is on correctly and tightly, and begins to straddle me.

The moan that escapes her lips as I enter her turns me on even more. She slowly moves her hips, almost in a hypnotic manner, as if she's doing a slow lambada. She looks down at me, and her face lightens up with warm glow. She saw me looking over her, looking at her eyes, and then at her lips. She pulls me up, and we kiss once more. I put my hands on her shoulders, guiding her to the speed I want. She puts my head in her chest, and I can feel her nipples brush against my cheeks. I pull on the string behind her neck, letting her dress fall to her waist. Her breasts were even more beautiful than I remembered. I lick on her left nipple, sucking softly, hearing her moans getting louder.

I feel the vibration of her left leg starting to become more erratic, her walls closing in tightly around me. She hums, she sighs, she moans. I pick her up, and stand up. I let her stand up as well. I motion to her to face the bed. She smiles devilishly. She knows what I like, and I know what she likes. She bends over, placing her head on the mattress. I lift the dress again, this time, I'm behind her. I go in, deeper than before, and she cursed, then cooed, then starts to taunt me.

"Is that....mmm.... the best....wow.....uh.....mmmm....the best.....ooh....damn.....hmmm....ahhh..." She didn't finish her sentence. She said my name, over and over, as if she was chanting some secret phrase. Her fist balled the sheets and she slammed her other hand on the bed. I smiled at first, then I realized that I was coming closer to Nirvana than I thought. I slowed down. She was already there, and was starting to make a return trip. She looked over her shoulder, and said four words.

"Give it to me."

She backed her ass up against me, gyrating and twisting and moving, pushing me, punishing me, making me return the favor. I slapped her butt, made it sting, heard her suck air through her teeth. I pull on the dress, twisting it into a makeshift rein, and started pulling her towards me. She cries out, part pain, mostly pleasure, scratches my arms, digs her nails into my skin. We're moving quickly now, as if we couldn't await the sweet moment where nothing is thought of, where your mind clears for one whole moment. She screams my name. I grunt and feel the swelling growing. The moment arrives.

I awake to soft knocking at my front door.

Sighing, I sit up and stretch out a yawn. I wondered if what just happened actually happened, or was I dreaming? I look around, no evidence that she was even here. As I stand, I look around for a shirt to put on. Finding a tattered Donkey Kong t-shirt, I walk slowly to the door while pulling it over my head.

"Who is it?"

"You know who it is already. It's cold out here, open the door."

I smile.

=================

And there you have it.

Fun Fact #22: I write short stories too.

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Now playing: The Notorious B.I.G. - I Got A Story To Tell
via FoxyTunes

Day 171

2009-06-21T21:46:00.002-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #21: I write poetry.

This one is called Kiss And Tell.

Sweet like a Hershey kiss
Bring them lips, shorty, let me get a little bliss
Don't get startled, baby, I just want a little taste
Hopefully, for your sake, I won't blow posthaste
Look at me, you got me thinking about you in seconds
Speaking of, it's been 30 since we last connected
Actually, I'm thinking about you in no clothes
I'm clean, here's my papers, I don't mess with nasty hoes
But that there presents a problem don't it?
Your smile and them lips make a brother want it
They say you can't turn a ho into a housewife
But you can't spell housewife without a little ho, is that right?
So, just for tonight, won't you be the former?
I'm not a pimp, you won't be standing on no dark corner
Just let me wrap up this little rhyme
And come close so we can kiss just one more time

Yep. That's it for tonight.

Fun Fact #21: I write poetry. (Or I say sentences that just happen to have ending words or phrases that rhyme...)

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Now playing: Kanye West Feat. Twista & Jamie Foxx - Slow Jamz
via FoxyTunes

Day 170

2009-06-20T21:23:00.004-04:00

30 post in thiry dsay

30 random factds about em,

Fin fact #20: I', drunk/

I done really drunl a; lot. not all the tiem. BUt ewhn ZI wdo drnk and im,s\tresed, I rtend to drink m,ore than necessary.

So, I drujnk a vouple shot of patron. Like mqaybe a bottle. o=r 2.

My type is jacked. I think thart I cant type wile drunk. This is not a joke post I really am wasted.

o had some shit on my chest I had to get odff. I love my women, all of them, but I have noen.

I'm a simople dude. I dont do much. Havent been in a real relationshiop in like 5 years. I miss being close with someone. Wow, the red linse ddint sdhow ujp in that senctence.

I love Twin, that ios my heart. She she means ecverything to me, and i want her to get herself strainght so we can try to be togehtr.

damn, mu psot inconherent as shit. shit.

I;m passing out now. bye m,mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmvh yk

Um,f un fact numer 20.: I drink. but not enoguht ot get drunk.

Day 169

2009-06-19T23:37:00.001-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #19: If provoked, I turn into my evil twin.

I'm a pretty nice guy. I am.

I have been known on more than one occasion to give my last. I will drop what I am doing and help you out if I think you need it. People have said that I am the nicest, kindest, most helpful guy they've ever met. And I am.

But I don't like idiots. I dislike pretentious idiots even more. I have no problem with people that are shallow, however, people that are shallow and are idiots and their ego's are the size of a 747 jet really grinds my gears.

So much so that I turn into my evil twin.

Today, while running errands (these are the things that I do on my day off, more work) I had to stop and pay a bill. While standing in the ~~unnecessary~~ long line, I noticed a young woman standing in front of me. From the back, she looked very well put together; yellow sundress with spaghetti straps, hair pulled back and off her shoulders, wedge sandals, caramel colored skin, about 5'5". She turned and made a comment about the line. She had a cute face, I'll give her that, but she tried to hide it with too much makeup. Not wanting to be rude, I responded. From there, she took total control of the conversation.

Mind you, at this point, I wasn't really in the mood to have a convo with a stranger. It's hot, I was getting kinda hungry, and this line was taking way too long. She pressed on, talking about various topics within the span of 2 minutes. Finally, I guess my brain had put auto-pilot on (which it tends to do when I'm ~~not paying attention~~ bored), because I cracked a joke about us getting out of there and getting something to eat.

She laughed. And I don't mean a girlish chuckle, either. I mean she laughed like I told the funniest joke in the world. She looked me up and down and said "As if someone like me would ever date someone who looks like you. You're way too big for me to ever date. Ugh, and you wear glasses? Have you ever thought about getting LASIK? It might improve your total look, not just your eyesight. And, from your style of dress, you need to make more money to get a woman, looks like what you're making right now isn't enough. You'll never get a woman like that."

*insert abrupt record stop sound*

My brain woke up. My sarcasm kicked into high gear immediately. At first, I wasn't sure if she was joking or not... but I kept looking in her face and no signs of a joke were coming out of it.

I hate being condescending, I do. But at this moment in my life, if anyone deserved it, she did.

My response? "Oh? You know, THANK YOU. Thank you. I've been waiting my WHOLE life for someone like yourself to come validate the reason why I'm not datable. I've been lost for years now, and finally, here YOU come with the answer. What would I do without you, huh? I... I'm at a lost for words. To think, you're actually ostentatious enough to believe that since I made a joke, that I want to date you. Well, wait. I think... (I'm looking closer in her face) Yep, there it goes. Your face, which is covered in enough makeup to suck the fun out of everything, has just shot my heterosexuality out of a cannon into the sun. Yes, right now, looking at you, I have just decided that being gay is a totally better alternative than to date you. Thank you."

Now mind you, when I said those things, I wasn't quiet about it. I wasn't yelling, but the person ahead of her, and the person behind me heard what I said. It didn't help that the person behind tried unsuccessfully to stifle her laugh. She looked at the person behind me, she looked at me, she looked down at the floor. Finally, she said excuse me and got out of line.

Now, at this point, my sarcasm meter went way down, my brain relaxed, and I settled back into line, all before I realized what I had said to her. I turned to the lady behind me and said "Do you think that was too harsh?" She smiled and said "No, dear, I think you did right."

Even though she said that, at first, I felt bad. It's rare that I go off like that, and even rarer that I would do it in such a public setting. I know how bad words hurt people, and if I could find her, I would apologize for the way that I said the things that I said.

Yeah, right.

I'm sorry, she deserved every bit of it. I don't like people who THINK because they are somewhat attractive that the world somehow revolves around them, and that the whole world wants them in some world wide orgy. I'm not a mean dude, not at all, but if you say or do something to me or someone I know that even Darwin himself would facepalm and say "THAT'S the winner of this century's Darwin Award!" then yes, I feel it is my duty and privilege to check you.

Well, not me.

But my evil twin.

Fun Fact #19: If provoked, I turn into my evil twin.

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Now playing: Busta Rhymes - Dont Touch Me (Throw Water On 'Em)
via FoxyTunes

Day 168

2009-06-18T22:43:00.003-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #18: I love the rain.

It's soothing to me. Most people don't like it; they get wet, they don't know how to drive in it (and flood their cars), and they look at the overcast clouds as a bad day.

Not me.

When I say soothing, I mean just that. Some days, I can lay in the bed (when I don't have anything to do, which for me, is extremely rare) and just listen to the rain and sleep on and off all day.

Other days, I go play in the rain. Dance in it. Walk in it. Feel the coolness of it. Now, some people might think I'm crazy, and you're probably one of them, dear reader. But I'm not, I just like the rain.

I think I like it so much for the cleansing effect. Yes, I know, I can take a shower and get the same "feeling". But not really. It's like a wave of euphoria comes over me in the rain. I can just look up in the sky and close my eyes and feel the water wash away bad feelings, broken dreams, disturbed thoughts, and stressful situations.

Living in VA, most of the time, when we have rain, we have thunder and lightning as well. So, that just adds to it. (Side note, I do not play in the rain when the thunder and lightning lets me know it's closer than 10 miles to me.)

It's raining right now, and I'm fighting the urge to go out and play in it, because I've got to finish this post. Did you know that some people get a good sleep when it rains because of the constant sound? I'm one of those people. I've kissed in the rain before, but to be honest, it was with one person, and it was about 10 years ago. But I liked it then, so I doubt it'll be any different now. I want one of those 50 First Date kisses in the rain, you know? Or even better, that Spiderman kiss in the rain, although, I don't think I'll be hanging upside down for that one.

My mom teases me, because she knows I'll say the same thing all the time, been saying it since my early teens. "Why do you not run when it rains out? You just get all wet." "Well, mom, I'm not sugar, I'm not gonna melt. But my ex says I ain't shit, so I guess I won't float, either." She gets a kick out of that every time.

Ok, you know what? I'm done. The rain is calling me. Time to put on my dancing shoes and go have some fun.

Singin' In The Rain (Mint Royale Remix)

Fun Fact #18: I love the rain.

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Now playing: Mint Royale - Singing In The Rain (FuzzyGroove Mix)
via FoxyTunes

Day 167

2009-06-17T20:13:00.003-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #17: I watch The Simpsons, and know everything about them.

Everything.

No, seriously.

Their address has mostly been 742 Evergreen Terrace. Mostly. Kamp Krusty, they lived on 430 Spalding Way.

Speaking of Kamp Krusty, that episode was supposed to be the first movie, but the writers felt they didn't have enough material to make a full movie out of it.

I can spell Apu Nahasapeemapetilon and pronounce it correctly.

Bart's middle name isn't Jay, like his father and grandfather, but JoJo. Really.

Lisa is a recovering addict. She was addicted to Korey for a long time. Possibly still is.

Maggie's real name is Margaret. Like her mother, Majorie, she has no middle name. Why? I don't know, I like to think that since people call them Maggie and Marge (respectfully) that Matt decided that just two names would do. OH, and Marge's maiden name is Bouvier.

Marge has two sisters, Patty and Selma, who both dislikes Homer. However, Selma actually has a soft heart for Homer. Sometimes. Patty outright dislikes him, however, she loves the relationship Homer has with her sister Marge.

Marge wanted to be an astronaut. Her sisters ruined that for her.

Marge and Homer have been married 4 times now. Homer actually married another woman, Amber, in Vegas, while "married" to Marge (which wasn't exactly legal nor moral, as Reverend Lovejoy's ministerial certification was invalid).

Moe stole the Flaming Moe from Homer, and the original name was The Flaming Homer.

Sideshow Bob has tried to kill Bart 10 times now. Well, 9, that one time at the Springfield Dam, it was actually his brother Cecil that tried to kill Bart and pin it on Bob.

I was trying to think of more things that I learned from the show. Hard to believe that this is our generation's Gunsmoke. I've been watching The Simpsons for 22 years now (they started in 1987 on The Tracy Ullman Show) and I can honestly say, I'm not tired of watching yet.

Quirky, yet fact filled. Exactly like The Simpsons.

Oh. If you want to test my knowledge, go ahead. Don't be surprised when you run out of questions.

Fun Fact #17: I watch The Simpsons, and know everything about them.

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Now playing: See My Vest
via FoxyTunes

Day 166

2009-06-16T20:45:00.004-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #16: I wear many different hats for different things. According to you.

Yes, you dear reader, the one who's reading this right now. Before I begin, I want to thank everyone who participated in this. I was hoping for about 10 more people to respond, but I think that line I said about it not mattering caused them to not do it.

Oh well. It does matter. Big time.

Moving on, let me start from where you guys started from. First, I am a kind, funny, easy to get along with type of guy. I am also a very talented writer. Apparently, that's the main reason why some people talk to me. Heh. I have a quick temper (really, Sherm?), but I'm extremely loyal, no half-stepping on that one. I'm very giving of myself, I got a big heart. I'm the cool cousin that you didn't grow up with, but every time we get together, we act like best friends. I am a math head. I'm also my own twin, good or bad, but it's cool because I'm me. I am also a very good wordsmith.

Now, to answer the gaggle of questions that I received.

What is your biggest dream, besides being a writer?
I want to be a relationship consultant. I think that I have a lot of ideas that could save some hearts, some relationships, and some time.

If you were a different sign, which one would it be? Or which one do you feel you fit into other than Gemini?
If I were a different sign? I don't know. I think that I'm pretty well rooted in Gemini status. I don't think I could be any different. But I might fit into Taurus.

Do you want to stay in VA forever?
NO.

If you move, what state would you move to and why? Or do you love VA and why?
If I move, it would have to be to either Florida or California. Actually, anywhere that the ocean is less than 1 hour away. I love the smell of salt water, I love beaches, and I love the ability to see women in bathing suits. LMAO

Why are you hating on my Redskins?
Because they suck, CJ, that's why. I'm a Cowboy, through and through.

What is your biggest regret in life?
To be honest, I have none. Everything that has ever happened to me has shaped me to be the person that I am right now. I wouldn't change who I am, because I might lose all of the friendships and camaraderie that I have gained so far.

If inhibitions or consequences were not an issue, what is one thing that you would love to do?
Be an actor. I would love to "be" different people when necessary. And get paid for it.

What song(s) best describe your mood most of the time?
This was a good question, Angel D. I can't even begin to narrow it down, because my songs change with my moods. All of them. And it's like I have a song for each one. Right now, I'm thinking about someone special, so She Lives In My Lap by Andre 3000. But most times, it's P.S.A. by Jay-Z. LOL

What is it that women see in you besides your wit?
I thought about this question the hardest. To be honest, I don't really know. I mean, I know I'm attractive as all get out. I'm the modern day Biggie. Wait, did I say Biggie right after attractive? What I meant to say was, I think that it's my charm. Seriously. I don't get approached. I have to do the approaching. So when a female gives me just the slightest bit of time, I shine. But it's hard to pinpoint exactly what it is about me that they see in me. I mainly think it's because I'm smart. I can hold a decent conversation, I'm a bit worldly, actually, a lot. I'm highly aware of my surroundings, and my sister would tell you that a lot of it has to do with the fact that I can tune myself into the female psyche. While I might not understand all of it, I do recognize it, and I do use it often. So, it's a multi-faceted thing that women see in me.

What is it about Nia Long? You talk about her an awful lot.
It's her eyes. Remember what I said about the eyes? Pay attention! © DJ Drama No, seriously, it's more than her eyes, it's.... she's just got this mysterious thing about her that I want to get to know. And the fact that she's hot has something to do with it too.

Well, folks, that's me, as described by you. Except for the questions, because, you know, I answered them myself. Again, I thank each and every one of you who participated, and those who didn't too, because without all of you guys, I wouldn't be who I am. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Fun Fact #16: I wear many different hats for different things. According to you.

OH. I almost forgot. I did NOT get sad at the end of the first Pokemon movie, I thought it was messed up that all of the little creatures could cry for Ash, but Misty and Brock couldn't even muster up any emotion. AND I did not get choked up at the end of Cowboy Bebop. *sniff* Spike died a good death. So, Big Sis, I do not have gay tendencies. (That's real messed up, too, Big Sis. LOL)

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Now playing: Lucy Pearl - Dance Tonight
via FoxyTunes

Day 165

2009-06-15T22:42:00.002-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #15: I'll let you tell it.

No, seriously.

Seeing as I have thought of being random, I figured there is no better way to be random than to be totally not involved in the process.

Sure, you COULD say this is me being lazy, but you'd totally be right. For tonight.

Nah, honestly, I thought about this all day. I wonder what people think about me, as a whole. I mean actual facts people. One thing about me that you've either noticed or seen for yourself. Or, one question that you've always wanted to ask me. Don't worry, I will answer all questions honestly.

I figured this is a 2 part random facts thing, as I will post all questions, answers, and facts tomorrow so that you can see what people come up with.

I'm excited, to be honest. I wonder exactly what people think. (Not that it matters. I mean, it does, but in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't. Shit, I probably got like 10 people to not do it now.)

I have something special planned for tomorrow with your answers, inquiries, and facts, people. I'm just asking for your input, however small.

Heh, and if I don't get any responses, then tomorrow will be something different.

Which would make it totally random, right?

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Now playing: M.I.A. - Bucky Done Gun
via FoxyTunes

Day 164

2009-06-14T21:38:00.004-04:00

30 posts in thirty days.

30 random facts about me.

Fun Fact #14: I watch Anime.

Not a whole lot of it, but enough to where I'm pretty competent about what's out there. I'm not ashamed to admit that Sailor Moon was my first Anime that I watched (for the record, it was Voltron, but this was on my own... and Akira. I LOVED Akira.) and that it was absolutely amazing to me. I was 13 when it started showing on Fox. That's what started me down the road of Japanese Animation.

After that, it was Ronin Warriors, Project A-ko (commend my brother for getting me into that one), Dragon Ball (again, my older brother), Ghost In The Shell, and Neon Genesis Evangelion. Then, when I hit college, I saw the Anime that changed my life:

Cowboy Bebop.

Everything about this Anime screamed at me; the music, the style, and Faye Valentine. Well, it was really the whole crew, and how they came together. The music is what really drove me over the edge, it was amazing. The Seatbelts did the music for the show, and I love live instrumentation (that's another post) and the way they played along with the action.

Sidenote: If you're ever looking for some good, jazzy music, find some of The Seatbelts' stuff. You won't be disappointed.

Cowboy Bebop was more to me than just some "cartoon". It hit me on a level of subconsciousness. It got me thinking about the choices I made, and how no matter how long it takes, it always comes back to you, good or bad.

That Anime led me into Samurai Champloo, and the ball just kept rolling. I've been watching a lot of good Animes, and I've come across some bad stuff, too. The one thing to keep in mind is that it's not just some cartoon. It's a lot of deep things to be learned by watching different Animes, and the ones that are done well, and done EXTREMELY well. I have yet to watch a middle of the road Anime.

I don't think I'll ever really stop looking for new Animes to watch. Case in point, just this year, I discovered Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-Chan (Or Club To Death Angel). This has to be, hands down, the FUNNIEST Anime I've watched yet. YouTube it, and see what I mean.

Fun Fact #14: I watch Anime.

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Now playing: The Seatbelts - What Planet Is This?!?
via FoxyTunes