i shot my brains out today. as i stood over the mop cleaning up the mess i had seconds before made, i realized that my reincarnated self had developed the urgency to desire the remnants of my old being from off the ground. there were was no longer a mess in the corner of my room, only a slight pain numbing the back of my head
welcome to my domain. i have neglected this place. what is worse is, i have apologized for neglecting it many times before with promises of getting better, and that has yet to happen. i think i just realized why i have yet to get better; if you scroll up [waiting for you to scroll up] you will see that the train to my sentimental mood is clothes, hoes, and liquor. no longer do i let materials run my life, i haven’t shopped for clothing in a little more than a year, not because i don’t need clothes, but because my quest for normalcy has taken me to a new place with clothes, the five oh ones and a hoody are all i need. no stress in that, comfort and my own style. liquor? i had an epiphany with liquor and have since let the depressant stop depressing me. hoes? i gave them up, and started focusing on one. what im trying to say is, this train is heading in a new direction, with new sentiments. if i am to keep this place up [which i do want to] i guess i have to come up with a new theme that more accurately can describe what is going on.
my quest for normalcy
as the only child of a single mother, i was definitely conditioned to believe the world revolves around me. luckily, i grew up with enough of what most people would call haters, to know that the world will continue spinning with or without me. i thank those people, because in-home-programming has led many people to grow up living what i like to call a fucked up life with fucked up ideals, morals, and outlooks.
then we have the whole thing of being a black male. the only son to a black single mother. adding black into the mix changes a lot of things, because it changes the rules to how the game must be played.
let’s examine a non black household for a minute. we have kimberly –mom, dan –dad, and joshua –son. now, let’s imagine kimberly is a single mother. joshua knows his father, in fact he gets to see him three nights a week, and he still hates him. kimberly is single by choice. she left dan, because he was never home. dan was addicted to work. well, he was obsessed with making sure the mortgage and car notes was paid. so kimberly left him. now she gets half of the money dan makes at work from the courts to make sure joshua is taken care of. so joshua sees his father regularly. his father still contributes in the house monetarily. and joshua has grandpa to take him out to baseball games and such. so even though mom is “single”, she’s really not doing anything on her own.
now. let’s examine the black household. kim is a single mother. she was never married, dan left before jj [josh] was born. jj doesn’t have grandpa to teach him the ropes, because grandpa is a) dead of one of the many illnesses that plague the black community b) he left before mom was born. kim is doing it all on her. she is truly alone and possibly with something to prove
so back to my point, adding the black into the equation really does change how the game must be played. my mother was a fighter. in her eyes, i was perfection. i am. there was nothing within her reach that she wouldn’t stretch herself to get if i had requested. but i think that starts the problem. in a world where so many people have nothing, we much stretch ourselves in an attempt to prove we have excess. i didn’t go to my mom and tell her i liked jordans and fubu, but she bought me jordans and fubu because there was worth in that. worth to take away from the true nature of our situation?
turning on the television now a days is draining, because i see the worth in all things that i can see the negative outcome to. i see worshipping of drugs and sex. in my community, the coolest guys are the ones have the most sex. trips to the liquor store are all about, how much are we spending to get us ‘there’ and how much can we consume in order to make ‘there’ a place that must be recollected to us the next day. when i go out to parties, and that song comes on, you know the one that makes you throw your set up, the coolest person is the one who gets the loudest, most reckless, and there is double points if you decide to get violent.
you rocking gucci? that’s cool, but you don’t have this louis. ya’ll sipping goose? what you know about this patron. you got nikes on, but they not jordans. you have a girlfriend who you love and have sex with on the regular? yeah, but you not fucking a different girl every night of the week. i live in a culture where it’s all about doing it better, for no reason except to say ‘i did it better’, because we come from a history of have nots.
its sickening. i’ve recently begun shedding my skin. i don’t want to do it better just because i feel self conscious of my history of having nothing. i want to be regular. because if you look at the ‘regular’ people they know where the things of real worth are. like a family, an address that can passed down generations, trips to change the forecast.
i don’t know where i’m going with this; it’s kind of late. just know, i don’t want to be like you anymore. you have issues and they may not be you’re fault, most of these kinds of problems start in the house at a young age. but i’m moving past that excuse, so please stop trying to pressure me. because i’m better than you: i’m normal.
thirtytwo was the man. i cant think of one girl from our high school who did not like him, and me being his best friend i heard all about ever single of their infatuations. every girl was the same in my opinion, in lust only because every friday he was lighting up the football field.
there was one girl, who would later be known as truth who was known for trying to mess with the athletes, but never really doing anything. typical white girl who was attracted to big black guys. she was naïve to the game that black men ran when it came to reaching our ultimate goal, to bust a big fat nut wherever we could. thirtytwo wasn’t that kind of guy though. and the girl who would later be known as truth, wasn’t really the kind of girl to give in so easily.
i tried to get thirtytwo to talk to ol’ girl because i liked her best friend. i went out of my way to get her attention and her and i had a two week thing, which involved me going out of my way to get played as the nice lame guy.
having migrated from michigan, i didn’t know many people in columbus. i ended up throwing this huge house party as an attempt to get to know more people, four of my closest female friends were made at this party. the girl later to be known as truth was invited in hopes that thirtytwo would get on. she came, and she spent a lot of her time making fun of me for running around the party and being a big flirt with all of the women i had invited to the party.
i called her on sunday to thank her for coming to the party, and to ask her if she had fun, she said yeah, and once again she started in on her jokes about the women i was associating myself with that night. before i knew it we were setting up a date. the date never happened. i called her on it one day and she promised we would one day. never happened. then one day, she came into my store with her best male pal, who is gay. without saying him even saying it, he let it be known that she liked me. a few weeks later i called her late at night, she was on family vacation in florida, but she went out into the hallway of the hotel lobby and talked to me all night. the conversation was fun, easy, and memorable. knowing she previously liked my bestfriend i was free to be myself. we talked about everything freely and really got to know each other during the coming weeks. shortly after we went on that date. err, i was invited over to her house for a chill session. one chill session turned into two, and before we knew it, it was a happening multiple times weekly. we didn’t do anything, except talk in her living room. there was only one room with a tv in her house, and we were hardly ever in that room, so it forced us to really interact with each other. we engaged in heavy patting, and one day she pulled my cock out and started jacking me off. i thought it was weird, but i liked that she tried that. physically she may not have been the most beautiful girl on the street, but to me, she was perfect. i remember one day i told her, “she was beautiful” not pretty, not sexy, but beautiful, everything about her, and i meant it. next a few weeks later i was getting a blow job, she had never done it before, which made me her first. i realized how hard that must have been for her to do. all of her previous boyfriends she always tried to have the upper hand on them, and she never thought to give them that kind of power over her. but she saw something different in me. so i returned the favor, making her my first also. i told thirtytwo i was starting to like her, he seemed a little shook, but i knew he didn’t really like her, and i continued on with what i was doing.
during that time, i was on the market very actively, this chick was ahead of the pack, but there was another dominant force, habibti [the baddest girl i’ve ever had my hands on, brought her to the party], who i was hoping for, and another younger girl who went to my school. on one memorable morning, habibti and all of her friends spammed my myspace wall. three pages worth, one hundred and fifty comments. i quickly let the younger girl go. but the girl later to be known as truth and i got into it over what kinds of behavior were acceptable in our new relationship, and if there was to be a relationship at all. after serious conversations, i decided i didn’t want to lose her, and we made our relationship official, making our anniversary fall on my birthday.
she told me to was the type to never cry around a guy. and i remember when she didn’t get into the college she wanted to get into, and i was there, she let it all out, and i was there. we got close. college came and we had to deal with distance. i believed in us. i told her if she gave me three years with this long distance thing, she would have me forever.
i don’t remember the exact moment i decided to start calling her truth, but that’s what she was to me….the truth, honesty, purity, love, she deserved it from me, because she was, and i gave it to her. she is the only person who knows the complete story on me. stories that i have repressed, out of fear that people would look at me negatively if they knew what was really going on. the kinds of stories that make me so isolated from the world around.
i remember on her eighteenth birthday, i went to kiss her on her stomach, and she no longer had a piercing in it. i asked her what happened to it, because though i didn’t really like it, i loved playing with it. she replied “i’m a woman now, and that’s more something little girls do.” i never looked at girls with stomach piercings the same. and i appreciated that maturity in her, that desire to take steps toward growth, something i truly do idolize.
don’t even get me started on sex. she went out of her way to learn everything i liked in the bed and to master it. it started out awkward at first, but to the level of connectedness we reached, we had to be the first eighteen year olds in history to reach that plateau. every which way, whenever i wanted. whenever she wanted. however, whenever, and every time is was magically new. my favorite position was her on top, but she sucked at it. i told her one day, that if it was going to be her to ride, she had to learn how to ride it. that was us, words in the night, seemingly empty words, with meaning. when she told me it was all mine, i didnt have to ask again; i knew.
her next family trip, i was invited. her parents took me to seratoga with them and treated me like i was already apart of the family. her and i left them behind and took on new york city together. my baby and me against the world. i could honestly see it being that, and that’s all i ever really wanted.
she didnt give a fuck what anyone thought about her, as long as her and i were happy. there were multiple days, i made her cry. there were days i disrespected her. there were days when i let her know in front of a party full of people that she was being annoying, and she needed to get out of my face, and she would not get out of my face. i appreciated that, because it said she wanted to be there, regardless of whatever was going on; my internal inadequacies. and for everyday she cried, she got flowers; just because, in the most creative ways. she deserved it.
during one conversation, she told me she wanted to give me the one thing she knew i really wanted; a family. thinking back to her saying that, i can relate to how she must have felt when i told her she was beautiful. i don’t know if she knows how much that really meant, and how much of myself i feel is dead since i have realized that i am not going to get a family anymore.
we made it halfway, and things got messy. long distance will remind you of all the things you hate about a person, and deprives a person of all the physical reinforcement. it’s hard to have make up sex when the person you want to make up with is hours away. many things broke us up. but i think the biggest thing for me was when i needed her there most, and she couldn’t be. i was looking for someone to hold me down, be in my corner no matter what.
we split, i never got to really mourn because i was so busy following other passions of my life. i recently just started, now that i have realized i wont find another her. here’s to the lose…..here’s to the next.
muah.
ok.there.im.over.it.at.least.thats.what.im.telling.myself
p.s. you have a lot to live up to. because she has set the bar very high.
i am right now. this instant. using the airports free wifi. on my way to seattle. you remember seattle? i blogged about it not too long ago. yeah. i’m on my way there. if i were you i would start following me on twitter yesterday. because shit is going down. i’mnot giving you the link because its on this site enough already. i dont want people to google my twitter name and fine my diary.
enjoy
call me a hater but, i often get pissed off when people are doing better than me. it only be because i think i live a decent life and it sucks. after i wrote the last blog, which i strongly suggest you read, i got to thinking about all the bad things that have happened to me, and the numbers are crazy, but i show no signs. bad stuff happens to everyone, and we all deal with it in our own way, i deal with it mine.
i was listening to chris rock’s early stand up and he was talking about how black people do not commit suicide, when they probably should [they're pregnant, the utilities are off, and moms a crack head, dad might not exists]. white people however do commit suicide, when they have little reason [their favorite band is breaking up].
college will make you look at shit in a whole different perspective. i am so glad i didn’t go to a hbcu, because i got to see what the world is truly made of, on a fairly accurate scale. the thing that bothers me most is white people are so freely renegade. they drink heavily, smoke weed [don’t let them tell you it's only us, just because their lips dont turn black], and they do all kinds of other drug experimentation. aside from that, they are the most non believing in God people you will ever met. they will straight up just cuss God out and then hit the bong. [white celebrities don’t win awards and thank God, they thank the fans, they don’t even thank their mom; usually if you don’t believe in God you can thank your mom, and she’ll thank God for you]. but somehow, despite all the “bad” stuff they do, life turns out good for white people. it’s crazy.
so me, being the little psychologists that i am, i got to thinking. how is it so? i took me a while to come up with what i believe to be the answer. of course there is the system that has been in place for years, that has to equate some of it. but then again after so many fuck ups does the system just skip them completely? it has to be some kind of luck, or maybe magic. seriously though, i really just came up with love.
our community sometimes get oversexed, and we lose love in our relationships. but in the white community relationships are important, even whores get boyfriends in the white community. there is something magical about a loving relationship. think about it now? the black people who are well off? they are usually in love and married. the only white people you see sad and miserable, are the ones who have gotten divorced. [as i type this marvin gaye, everybody needs love comes on the ipod].
i think i might be on to something here. Jesus died for our sins out of love. love is the most powerful thing in the world. white people get everything because they still believe in and are not afraid of love nor marriage [unlike black people are rumored have given up the sanctity of marriage]. and harry potter survived voldemort’s initial attack because of his mother’s love.
before success comes love? i think so, and only white people know about it. why are they the only ones who know about it? because the beatles sung a song about it [all you need is love]. well guess what lennon, i’m on to you.
[black people could have heard it when marvin said it, but we were too busy fucking to really be paying attention]
they say when you turn eighteen, you are officially an adult. that’s just the legality. then they say when you are twenty-one you are grown, behind you are your teens, and you should be on the cusp of acquiring your dreams. [twenty-five and you are supposed to be living your dream]. i turned twenty-one this year. no longer a teen. can buy my own alcohol, can vote, own a firearm, buy tobacco, and i am on my way to being a senior in college, i am a man. with all these symbolically good things happening in my life, i have had the worst year ever.
sometime after i pledged into my fraternity, life started sucking. i lost my girlfriend partially because of the frat, and i never really took the time to assess my feelings. i’m sure if i would have i would have felt some kind of grief, and sadness, but that never happened because i was so busy trying to please my future brothers. so, after i came out from under the dark, i looked around, and i realized i was all alone.
i spent my first year of college in a relationship, didn’t pursue any girls [well there was that one girl who i thought was the finest girl this side of the mississippi in the class ahead of me]. i went to parties, but for the most part, i stayed to myself. no one outside of my class knew me, and i kind of preferred it that way. but, after i crossed all of a sudden everyone thought they knew me and something about me. it really turned me off of my campuses greek environment, as it was most of them who were doing the judging. at a time when i was supposed to be being embraced socially on campus, i didn’t feel welcome, and kept i it moving. it hurt at first, but now i’m appreciative it happened that way, i would hate to have fake friends, and i’ve seen the true colors of many people’s character.
the school year ended and i went about my business. a fresh start was sure to come, and all of the things from last year should have been forgotten. but, the summer brought bad coming. while trying to go see kanye west: glow in the dark tour, in punk ass cincinnati a water hose exploded and my car almost caught fire. i was stranded in a city with my best friend, and one of my bruhs girlfriend, had to find a car garage open on sunday, and i had to fork over some cash that i really didn’t have [this is when i knew cincinnati had it out for me, and i proclaimed my hatred].
school got back in and i was determined to be a new me. of course that wasn’t going to be easy. one of these girls, whom i didn’t talk to, but made the mistake of passing the d was all up on me in the club on one of the early weekends back. i told her calm down, i really don’t like all the public displays, but more importantly i was not trying to get at her [and i never told her i was]. eventually i had to break down and tell her i didn’t like her, but in fact i liked her friend [see: the taurus woman]. that did not sit well with her and for the rest of the year, social problems remained in tact with that group of women, always seeming to stem from the one who was all up on me, and her sidekick. i believe in forgiveness, probably too strongly, and i don’t hold grudges well because, i believe people do maintain the capacity to change and grow for the better. growth remains to be seen with these two. but i have learned how close is close enough.
the year continued on, or maybe the flip of the year occurred, basically, two thousand nine came. everyone claimed ‘two thousand nine is mine’ on their facebook status; i didn’t. even still, i had good faith. i was turning twenty-one in a few days. i had brought the year in with a good friend, and i had health.
we had a snow storm in athens, but i had a test the following day. i got in airys and drove over to [the girl who i thought was my girlfriend, but i’ve been informed she isn’t] house [we had the same class, had to study together]. on the way i crashed my car [see: car esteem. i just got out, looked at it, and kept driving to her house. the next day the test was canceled, in fact classes were canceled.
months later i would try to go and have a good time with my bruhs in cincinnati and lose my four front teeth in what truly was a life changing event, which sent me into a recluse, forcing me to sit down and really evaluate what i’m working towards. [see: cabaret and it’s results: fuck cincinnati].
aside from all of that, i still haven’t found a job. well i have one now but, it’s more like a side hustle. the only thing is i don’t have a main hustle. i work with this chinese woman who is trying to write a book, but she doesn’t know how to work a computer. it’s a math book. i just show her/help by putting everything she has written into word documents. i haven’t applied many other places, but every time i do it’s a no. we’re not hiring, which i know is illegal [you have to offer someone an application, but i know they're just saying no because i'm a minority]. the other day i applied for a job, and i got a good vibe, until i talked to the boss and she said flat out why she couldn’t hire me, which i’m pretty sure is illegal, but i do thank her for her honesty. she said, “i can’t hire you, you’re background check came back negatively, you have a dui.” didn’t know about that did you? that’s because i never told you the story. i’ve been meaning to but, i wanted to wait until my case was finished.
read the complete story here.
it was that night, feburary first, when i collapsed to my lowest. feburary first, the day i began trying to rebuild a brand new me. slowly giving away parts of my previous self that i had no more use for if i wanted to grow as a person, and avoid bad things like that from happening in the future. i saw myself going down a bad path, and i was trying to avoid it. luckily, i didn’t get a dui. my lawyer was good as hell, and the cop who pulled me over and arrested me was being a dick headed fuck face. not restarting the breathalyzer was wrong, no way i blew a .148 considering my size, and only had a faint smell of alcohol, or how i did on the field test [didn’t necessarily pass it, but damn sure didn’t fail it to a .148]. plus what kind of shit is it to not let someone read something before they sign it, and would a .148 person under one hundred and fifty pounds be concerned with reading things before they sign it? my license was still suspended, but i was scheduled to get them back on august first, provided i send in thirty-five dollars [lowered from four hundred seventy-five], which i did, on august second. today, i go to my mailbox, and i received a letter from the bmv, saying the price to reinstate my license is five hundred and five dollars, because i failed to reinstate. what the fuck! i cant get a break! first the lady telling me i cannot have a job, a job i know i’m qualified for, i would be good at, and i would enjoy. -because of this shit. i tried to reinstate, i did reinstate, and i don’t have five hundred and five dollars.
the other day on twitter i said the man dsnt wnt to see the other man make it.dnt get caught doing no dirt if you the other man.the man tells all his friends, they’ll judge please take those words to heart, because they are truth. the system is unforgiving.
my problem with all this bad stuff happening is i don’t know why it happens. i really am a pretty decent person. people who really know me say good things about me. i’ve taught a lot of my friends about diversity, forgiveness, fairness, being non judgmental, open-mindedness, understanding, [i'm funny], lots of things that form the basis of what society says a good person is [i'm not just thinking i've taught them these things, they've thanked me for the lessons]. i even pray, and not always asking for stuff to go my way, but giving thanks for the air in my lungs, for good friends, for the blessings my friends and i receive. i named this i don’t know how i find time to laugh but as i wrote that last sentence i realized how. [as i send another prayer of thanks above.]
but really. all this bad stuff happening to me, for no apparent reason has left me with only one concluding thought; if there is a such thing as karma [which i do believe there is] the lottery is in my future. ha
i just hope my day gets better. because the only thing good about today is that i’m still alive. and if too many more fucked up things happen that might not be such a good thing -anonymous
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