Hell Of A Life

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

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

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

"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

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

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.

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

Our Dreams

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.

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

Cooler Than Me

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.
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Now playing: Mike Posner & The Brain Trust - Cooler Than Me feat. Big Sean
via FoxyTunes

Verbal Intercourse '10

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

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

Soundtrack 2 My Life

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.

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