gone until tuesday

wassup folk

i'll be gone until tuesday. not bringing the laptop with me so my online access will be limited. i'm sure your eyes are thanking me cuz now they don't have to read all the shit i write.

i've got phone numbers for a few folk, so don't be surprised if you get a call this weekend. if you wanna hear from me, email your number and you'll get a call. i love talking to folk when i'm waiting to get on my plane. makes the time go by faster.

take care folk. have a wonderful weekend, and don't gasp when you see a number with a 678 area code in your caller id. just pick up the damn phone and be nice. ;)

thankful thursday

what a great/sad week this has been. it seems like everything i say and do is tinged with sadness right now. i guess it'll be this way for a while. i just can't see myself getting giddy while my granny suffers. anyway, onto my thankful thursday.

i am thankful for all of the love and support i've gotten from all of my blogger fam during this rough patch in my life. from the emails to the im conversations to the e-cards, i am reassured each day of just how wonderful humanity really is. i tend to get cynical at times and think that compassionate people are rare. however, all i have to do is come to my blog and soak in the support of my blog fam...most of whom i've never even met in person, and i see that people have the capacity to sincerely care for their fellow human beings.

i am thankful for aswad, who continues to hold up during the stress because his presence is the reason why things aren't nearly as hectic as they could be. i reap the seeds of your wisdom daily. your unconditional love and spiritual strength saves me, especially on those days when i'm too depressed to save myself. i thank god for you and will continue to do so until my last breath.

i am thankful for my parents, who regardless of their struggles have never wavered in their love for me and their support in my endeavors.

i am thankful for the strength of mind and wisdom i've been blessed with to assist me in my journey right now.

i am thankful for the blaquescribers for their positive encouragement in all creative endeavors and beyond. special shout out to dp who makes a point of checking up on my ass every single day.

i am thankful to god for giving me this time to reflect on the impact my granny has had on my life.

i am thankful to jerome for your words yesterday. you reminded me just how essential our friendship is to you AND me. your courage in expressing yourself to me in such a way as to expose your vulnerability was moving and left me in awe of your eloquence. your constancy is comforting and completing and lets me know how right i was to place my faith and trust in you. we have a spiritual and creative connection i hope we will both be able to cultivate to its fullest.

i am thankful to amadeo for always finding a way to make me laugh (and uh, i'm kicking your ASS this weekend in ff. RECOGNIZE). you are my brother-in-arms.

i am thankful to bklyndiva...you have guided me with your words, held me up with your encouragement, and comforted me as i wept. i can't thank you enough for all you have done for me.

i am thankful to trish...you reflect so much of me and i of you. our struggles right now are similar in alot of ways. wierd how we became friends, but i'm damn sure glad we did. folk enter and exit our lives for a reason and you have showed me with your humor and insight why you have entered mine.

i am thankful for the life i've been blessed with receiving. i will do my best to use this gift to the best of my abilities.

i am thankful for my imagination and love for words and music. these three things are infused within me and are just as essential to me living as air.

oh, and i'm thankful for air. LOL

i gotta get ready...

i'm trying to get myself prepared for what i'm gonna see when i get to new york on friday...


flying over the hudson, the skyline resewn to close the hole left by the missing twin towers

aswad's tall form standing with his hair covered in baggage claim at la guardia

the arteries clogged with clots of yellow cabs, moving emboluses of buses and cars congesting the arteries in the heart of manhattan

green newp.ort cigarette signs with brown people wearing black lips smoking white sticks tipped in curling grey smoke while orange letters tell us they're 'alive with pleasure'

naked trees standing forlorn in small parks dealt like cards to scatter in green squares across a concrete table littered with the ashes of city living

steep steps slipping down into the subway's twisted intestines stuffed with both the substance and waste residing on new york's plate.

trains packed with bodies in varying stages of evolution, their spirits in varying stages of elevation

the 'j' tossing the black cloak from its body as it hits the bridge and races naked across the tracks

the sun painting the cramped and damaged forms of the car's inhabitants into hues of golden amber

broadway draped in the elevated track's shadowed pattern of grey and black plaid edged in the spanish lace of bodegas

a brown-stoned brownstone gated to keep men from dying on the steps

a kitchen lined in enamel moments stuck in china cabinets

a living room designed in animal prints tamed into submission onto wall and carpet

a bedroom where my memories of a child in summertime will be hiding

a bed where my uncle, her son, on december 27 2005 finally died in

the same bed in which my granny, his mother, now lies in

the thing that took him now killing her within


momma wants to talk to me to prepare me for what i'll see

i'll never be ready...

random musings monday

a clump of dirt on your hand? dude...what pitcher doesn't know he's got a clump of dirt on his PITCHING HAND?!? shady shady SHADY!

*sigh*...two losses in a row in the blogger league. i'm not gonna give up, but my team is STINKING right now...

rebound from the ass-whupping last week in the inkers league. BACK IN FIRST PLACE YOU SUCKAS!

pick 'em? EWWW.

granny's outta the hospital...*whew*! can't wait to get there this weekend so i can see for myself she's aiight.

why is this bitch STILL talking to me? now that i've decided to ignore her, she wanna socialize.

damnit, i can't write this book proposal to save my LIFE. i wonder why this is so hard?!?

i haven't read a blog in about four days. i hope everybody's aiight out there.

spent the weekend with dad...lawd...that's a WHOLE 'NOTHA POST BY ITSELF...

why is autumn my favorite time of the year? cuz most days it ain't too hot and it ain't too cold, it's baby bear 'just right porridge'-like

how come none of the porridges were the same? i mean, weren't they scooped from the same pot and put in the bowls at around the same time? why would they leave their porridge on the table like that? was there some kind of emergency? how come no-one ever bothered to tell their side of the story?

why wasn't goldilocks arrested for breaking and entering? was it because she was white? was it because the law thought it was aiight for her to fuck with the bears? was goldilocks an escapee from an insane asylum? would she have been given the same treatment had she been a brunette? let her name have been 'dreadlocks' and i bet her ass would have been in cuffs for being a 'suspicious person in the neighborhood' as soon as she started walking on the block.

how come they didn't eat her when they saw her in the bed?

what bear eats porridge?

merriman on steroids? hmmm...but the nfl's drug policy is sooooo much better than the other professional leagues. yeah, right.

this boy is really starting to make me think i can't be friends with him anymore. i mean, if he did some of that shit to me i'd probably kill his ass.

for the first time in a long time my heart is completely absent of romantic notions and i'm pretty damn happy about it.

i'm THIS close to just putting in notice and bouncing. it's not that i hate this job, but i'm really starting to feel my age and the lack of substance to the last decade of my existence. i figure if i keep it in my mind eventually i'm gonna have to listen to that damn voice.

okay, i can finally admit it...i've never read toni morrison. why? i have no earthly idea. when people say my writing kinda reminds them of her writing, i'm flattered because i've heard her writing is phenomenal. i KNOW that's trife. i purchased my first book by her this weekend...sula. i'm gonna read it tonight.

you ever been to paper.back.swap.com? folk, it's like a crackhead's paradise for folk like me addicted to reading (even though my trife ass hadn't yet read toni morrison. yeah yeah...)

i know he hates being in suspended animation like this, and i wish i could be more sympathetic to his plight, but frankly, i think it's time he experienced some of the medicine he dishes out. sometimes a negro gotta be played a couple of times before he realizes he's offering himself up as an instrument every time.

i admit it...the music video on the blog thing has run its course with me. i'm tired of having to constantly check a blog to see if the've got music on it so i can cut that shit off before it starts. it's PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF. i'm saying, just consider taking off the 'autoload' feature of the video so i can go to your blog without having to worry about that damn video. i still got love for you folk, but i had to say something.

to those of you neglecting your teams in the blogger league...you don't have to stop commenting on my blog just cuz you decided to not actively participate in the fantasy league. i know the 'avoi-dance' when i see that shit.

i've started five knitting projects in the last week and i haven't finished ANY of them.

i don't wanna be my hair right now cuz it needs to be washed. can i be my tits and ass until i get my hair done?

was i the only kid traumatized by the story of humpty dumpty? really, the person who figured the tale of a dude falling off of a wall to break into a million pieces on the ground would make for a good nursery rhyme must have been a masochist. on the plus side, i can now look into having my children's story "momma gave poppa the slap after poppa gave momma the clap" published.

don't egg-like folk know better than to sit on walls?

why did the citizens call all the kings horses and all the kings men? what about calling the king's doctor or the king's carpenter, or ANYBODY who might have some idea how to put pieces back together again. for real...what the fuck did they think a horse could do other than shit on the broken pieces?

i checked har.vey bir.dm.an last night and damn near came in my panties just from the sheer joy of having my show back on the air. new episodes of my favorite fries, shake, and meatball series is coming up. i can't WAIT.

was 'the bo.on.do.cks' cancelled? i haven't seen it on ad.ult sw.im, but it might be my timing.

was i the only adult watching ad.ult sw.im when they had pe.e we.e's pla.yho.use on there thinking "did i really think this shit was the shit when i was a kid?!?" as an adult i can't watch it for more than five seconds without wanting to kick the t.v.

how come the carto.on ne.twor.k is showing live action movies? if i wanna see live action, i'll check out the nick channel.

anybody check out 'draw.n tog.ether'? funniest.shit.ever.

notice anything absent from these musing? hehehe

and still i love her...

my aunt finally showed up after eight days of being missing in action. to say i was pissed was an understatement. part of me was hoping something bad had happened to her to truly warrant my worry. why? because then it meant that she wasn't around because of something serious as opposed to her not being around because she couldn't handle it.

she said she'd been kidnapped by her husband and his girlfriend. i know her husband is capable of heinous deeds. you see, he has tried to kill her numerous times, once by setting her on fire, another time by stabbing her. part of me wants to believe her, and yet i can't help but feel she just disappeared because she didn't want to deal with the prospect of losing her mother.

it's not easy to love someone like her, someone who does very little to earn it. she lies to us all of the time and disappears at the worst moments, those times when we need her the most. it's always about her needs and her frailties and she puts herself above everybody else. so what if we needed her. she couldn't cope, so she bounced.

and yet i still love her...

even though i was pissed the fuck off when she turned up, even though she has disappeared again and has done little if anything to help my brother with granny, even though she makes no effort to apologize for how she's behaving, i still love her. sometimes i wish i could stop loving her, stop worrying about whether or not she's okay, stop worrying about how she will survive once granny's gone, stop concerning myself with her health and well-being, but it's not so simple as all that. i have too many memories of the good times, memories that can't be erased by her behavior. i've had too many glimpses into her soul, talks that revealed her fear and her desires, moments when i could see every hurt she's inflicted upon herself and others reflected in her eyes.

she's still human

and so i still love her...

i can't turn it off. i can't delete it from my harddrive like it's a virus or wrap it up in a plastic bag and toss it in the dumpster, because my love just ain't as simple as all that. my love isn't what blooms beautiful only in sunshine.

sometimes it's that weed in my front yard choking my posies until their faces are drained of color and their petals fall like flaking skin onto the grass. meanwhile no matter how many times i yank the weed out, it's still there when i check in the morning.

sometimes it's that large wine stain blemishing the front of my favorite blouse, a crushed grape disgrace i can't camouflage with a pin or erase with the flick of a stain removing stick. but i wear that blouse anyway, cuz it i won't let something like a stain prevent me from wearing my favorite blouse. shit, maybe i can make that stain work for me.

sometimes it's that reoccuring nightmare that has me strangling myself with my bedsheets only to wake up drenched in the sweat of my fear before i curl fetal into a corner of the bed and refuse to go back to sleep.

sometimes my love ain't a beautiful thing to me.

sometimes it has an overlarge head with a receding hairline, a unibrow, eyes that cross, a bulbous nose dripping with snot topping split, dry lips with a double chin hanging on at the end. that mothafucka has b.o., like a combination between rotten eggs and toe jamb jelly and that brown shit on the end of my qtip from when i dig into my belly button. its breath stinks, and no matter how much mint gum or breath mints you give it, its mouth still smells like a stick of gum lying in a sea of sewage. it's a no-good thief, stealing my shit from the house and burying it in the back yard.

and yet despite this i'm still gonna keep it around. i mean, the head can be shaved bald and the unibrow can be plucked. i can blow its nose and give it a bath and see about getting its teeth fixed and its tongue scraped so its breath ain't humming so strongly. i could stick it in a support group for kleptos or something...

cuz there's always hope, right?

that's really what sustains love when it's ugly...hope.

hope that somewhere down the line things will change. hope that at some moment in the future she'll realize just how much she's needed and she'll make real effort to get herself together so she can help us help her. hope that one day i can sit down at the piano with her and play chopsticks and sing chaka khan and laugh so hard we're bent over cuz our stomachs hurt, the giggles coming in hiccups, the tears of glee streaming from our eyes cuz we were just bursting with it. hope for a transformation of something ugly into something beautiful.

but then, that might never happen. ten years from now she might still be the same person who's self-absorbed, who disappears and doesn't care about how it affects us, who lives her life as though she doesn't care about any of us.

and if she is, i'm still gonna love her.

cuz even if it never gets its brows plucked or takes a bath and stays just as ugly as hell, i'll never turn love away. it's always welcome in my home.

i'll just make sure i keep all my electronics and jewelry locked up in my bedroom and keep plenty of feb.reze on tap.

dung into soil where flowers grow

i was supposed to do this yesterday on gratitude wednesday but of course i have to buck tradition and do it today. i'm gonna put a twist on it and acknowledge all of the negative experiences in my life and explain my gratitude for them occuring...

thank you god, for taking away my father when i was four. i learned early on that the next day isn't promised to any of us and we have to make the most of what time we have and love without reservation those who matter the most to us.

thank you d for molesting me when i was seven. i learned how important it was to never trust a stranger. as an adult i became determined to protect young girls from men like you, to teach them to value themselves so that they never feel pressured to do something they don't want to do, to recognize their own self-worth.

thank you e & s for raping me when i was 18 & 19. i learned how to defend myself and became empowered as a result of your invasion upon my terrain. i also learned how to better assess a person's character based on the things they say and do.

thank you l for getting in jail and forcing an end to our relationship with your actions. there was no way we would have been happy together over the long haul and it took your behavior to make me see that.

thank you t for not coming back to school and forcing me to lose my apartment. i learned to be more compassionate about homeless people because sometimes situations are out of their control and their homelessness says nothing of their character, only bespeaks of the situation they're in. i also learned to never force myself into a relationship with someone else based solely on needing them.

thank you god for the unwanted pregnancy that i ended up aborting when i was 20. the pain i experienced with that loss has made me more appreciative of the life i create, made me acknowledge the importance of such a decision, and ultimately made me more choosy about the men i am intimate with. it also guaranteed i will never do it again.

thank you n for ending our friendship. we had grown apart and it was a necessary part of us growing up.

thank you god for the miscarriage in 1997. i learned to take better care of my body and to listen to it when it speaks to me. it also let me know i wasn't barren, which i had believed up until then. it also let me know that the brotha i was with at the time was truly a beautiful human being because despite his fear, he was there for me through it all. he reminded me that there are indeed good brothas in the world.

thank you god for me ending up homeless in 1998. i had to lose my home before i learned that i hadn't done enough to fight for it. up until then i assumed everything would be alright even if i didn't actively make it so. when i lost my home, i realized i was allowing life to have its way with me instead of the other way around. that situation made me acknowledge how my own actions play into the situations i find myself in. i learned about accountability.

thank you r for putting me through what you put me through. i would never have learned the difference between internet infatuation and real love, would never have realized just how lonely i was and vulnerable to any kind of attention, and would have continued to ignore the issues in my personal life and hope they would just disappear. in the aftermath i was able to explore the depths of my emotions, dissect them and view them closely, find my own strengths and weaknesses, and put the pieces back together into a stronger mold. i am in a happier and more empowered place for it.



so there you have it, people and situations that on the surface can be seen as negative happenings in my life, but it's all in how you choose to view them. i look below the surface and see the blessings they became because of how i chose to use the situations to make myself and my life better. i am who i am today as a result of all of this.

through all that shit a flower still blooms.

thank you god for the wisdom to see that although every situation might not be wrapped the way i want it to be, they're all gifts. it's all in how i choose to receive them and apply them to my life.

damn, this post turned into something else...

it's pretty dreary looking out there this morning. the drive to work this morning was damn near treacherous cuz atlanta folk equate rain with 'drive like i don't have no fucking sense', so i was dodging speeding vehicles and idiots swerving in and out of traffic like a kid zig-zagging away from the charging form of a grandmother holding a switch from a tree in her hand.

when i got in to the office, i was still simmering from a meeting that took place yesterday. diane, who from here on out will be referred to as 'that bitch who better never ever find herself alone in an alley with my ass cuz i will kill her without any remorse', decided to poke me with her knife...

dan: "so you have anything going on diane?"

the bitch: "as a matter of fact, yes."

she turns to me, lips dry and twisted, eyes soaked red with hatred...kinda like an inflamed, bitter cunt that'd gone years without good dick. shit, i could almost see the pubic hairs poking through the gap in her teeth.

the bitch: "i need a list of people i can call in case nikki isn't around. i mean, that week you were gone dan, people were interrupting me with their questions, questions i couldn't answer and nikki had disappeared. she was never in her office..."

dan made a quick glance in my direction and i'm sitting there like "what the fuck just happened?!? did this bitch actually try to check me in front of dan? did she actually just sit there and try to make it seem like when he was out of the office the triflin' token negro just fucking disappeared?"

i raised an eyebrow and said nothing. frankly, there was nothing to defend. i did nothing wrong. i mean, she's just a withered vagina looking to fuck me cuz she's threatened by me. i knew that, but it still pissed me the fuck off.

dan: "you're right. we do need a list of contact people in case linda or nikki isn't available."

i wasn't sure if he believed what the bitch said, but to make more of the situation than was warranted would raise suspicions, so i told them i'd put a list together and then the meeting was over.

mind you, folk...the bitch has been working at this spot for 25 years. i've been here six. if she doesn't know who the fuck to contact, it's cuz she don't want to know.

anyway, so this morning i was still simmering over her pettiness. the fact that it was raining didn't help matters, but things were about to change.

i sat down at my desk and pulled up my itunes. i put on one of my favorite playlists called 'easy listening'. the artists on this list include pho.ebe sno.w, pau.l mc.cartney, barr.y ma.nilow, and jim croce. i hadn't listened to these folk in a hot minute and for some reason, i was desperate to hear them right at that moment.

"my baby's out there...with his lantern...searching for a honest man
oh it's crisis time...stuck in the suburbs, dying on the vine...
he knows how to give me gifts from above...
he knows how to give me two-fisted love...

oh, help us mary jane, we are wandering out on this desert plain
we have no canteen, can the thirsty stay sane, after what they've seen?"

i think part of the reason i was lifted from the doldrums immediately is cuz i have heard that song a million times and STILL don't understand the damn lyrics. i mean, she says something about mary jane...is she talking about weed? and what's two-fisted love anyway? is it that 'she got both her hands fisted around cloth cuz the sex is so good she gotta hold on for dear life'? or is it 'she don't believe it's love unless she's getting punched in the mouf by a man using BOTH fists...using one fist only means he's infatuated...'?

for real though...the lyrics confound me, but the way she sings it always mellows me out. she sighs at the end of some of the words and i can't help but sigh right along with her. it's like a breathing exercise or something and afterwards i felt like a kitty who'd just had her tummy scratched. i admit, i purred.

and then the next song came on...

"oh yeah, yeah...oh yeah...
you make me laugh...cuz your eyes they light the night, they look right through me...
you bashful boy...you're hiding something sweet, please give it to me yeah...to me...
oh talk to me some more, you don't have to go...you're the poetry man, you make things alright..."

shiiit. tell me you haven't flirted with someone like that? tell me you've never been inspired to talk to someone like that cuz they bring all the beautiful things you never knew about yourself to the surface. i remember that feeling, the feeling of being beautiful in his eyes. like, he saw my spleen and thought to himself "that's the most beautiful spleen i've ever seen..."

now if you know the rest of the song, you know phoebe is flirting with a married man, but i digress...don't worry though, she sent that dude on his way back to his wife. one thing phoebe ain't is a damn homewrecker.

i skipped the next few tracks until i got to my boy jim...

"if i could save time in a bottle, the first thing that i'd like to do
is to save every day 'til eternity passes away, just to spend them with you
if i could make days last forever, if words could make wishes come true
i would save everyday like a treasure, and then, again i would spend them with you
but there never seems to be enough time to do the things you wanna do once you find them
i've looked around enough to know that you're the one i wanna go through time with..."

what devotion. it sounds so good when you hear it being sung, but the reality of it is this dude is probably gonna end up stalking the chick. i mean really...EVERY moment? what person wants to spend EVERY moment with someone? when i take a shit, believe me when i tell you i'm not wanting anyone in there with me. they'd die from the toxic fumes anyway. the only way i'm able to survive 'em is cuz i've developed a tolerance to it over the years. i have evolved to the point where the smell of my feces cannot kill me, but i wouldn't put anyone else in danger by telling them "hey...i want to spend EVERY moment with you...come in here and talk to me while i 'drop the kids off at the pool'..."

still though, the sentiment is beautiful and anyway, how romantic is it for him to say "i've looked around enough to know that you're the one i wanna go through time with (excluding of course, that time when you're dropping brown puppies in the lake...)"

anyway, to make a long story shorter than the verbose shit it would have been had i continued with the rest of this story, i found my humor and good spirits in listening to this music. i am so grateful for music. it soothes the savage beast for REAL. i came in this office all crunchy and now i'm just chillin, and it's all because phoebe writes confusing lyrics and likes flirting with married men and jim is a stalker...

thank GOODNESS for human imperfections...makes life perfect.

ratcatcher...

i find i cannot capture the ideas as they scatter like rats into the shadows, burrowing themselves deeply into the bricks of my block, mocking me with squeaks as each tick of my clock shatters my face into impatience. i find i cannot find my way as i chase them into the darkness, tripping clumsily over the entrails of castrated adverbs, their penises 'ly'ing like headless snakes beneath my feet. i fall grace first into a pile of haphazardly unpacked adjectives, now a rumpled mountain of descriptions bleached blank of their color by the contents of a bottle of lie spilled onto it during yet another turbulent flight of fancy.

i lay upon a debris field of decapitated stories and mutilated epics, my fingers scrapped raw as they crawl in cramps across the familiar forms of those lifeless figures littering the terrain of my keyboard.

i can hear them...

muted sounds of furtive movement within the brick of my block lets me know that with each tick of my clock i am closer to having those sentences within my grasp again. i sit where i stand, landing in their excrement, remnants of empty musings pushed through their periods to land in a waste of effort now squashed beneath my ass.

i am waiting in this infinite dark, my other sense so heightened i no longer need to be in the light to write.

come out, come out...

i know where you are...

may my pleas guide her safely back to us...

i thrust these words into the air hoping they will stick to the sky and shine bright like a beacon to call you home.

i make my plea that somehow by whispering these words, typing these words onto a monitor's screen, thinking these words, the will i wish to awaken within you will take root and bring you home.

i don't care where you've been.

i don't care why you left.

i only care that you come back.

cuz i worry when i don't know where you are. i know you like to disappear in the face of situations that will require coping skills you have yet to recognize you possess, but this time we can't afford to look for you. i know you're scared you're gonna lose your mom. i'm just as scared of losing my granny.

but we still have each other, auntie. we still have our love for each other.

and i DO love you.

i remember when you taught me how to play 'chopsticks' on the piano when i was five. you were young and cloaked in dreams that fell like wings upon your shoulders. i remember wanting to fly like you, to have nothing but the sky to reach for and know i could dance on the same clouds you told me would taste like cotton candy. i learned how to play by ear from you, how to love music like it was a faithful lover that would never leave me.

i remember when you taught me how to sing off-key when i was seven. cha.ka kh.an was your idol and you were mine. i emulated your every move, content to be your shadow because i knew even your shadow would shine in the wake of your light. i loved the way you laughed, the giggles springing from you like a deluge of joy soaking me right down to the bone. i would greedily gulp the sound of it, flooding my soul parched from a pubescent existence drawn dry from my father's death four years earlier.

i remember when you taught me how to breathe in a smoke-filled movie theatre on 42nd street, how to hear the dialogue above the drunken yells of everybody around us. i was so shocked and afraid and you laughed at me, corraling a smile from my lips as you made everything okay when you winked at me and held me close. i don't even remember that damn movie, but i remember how safe i felt riding the subways with you at 2 in the morning. i was ten.

i remember when you taught me how bitter betrayal stings when you stole all my brother's money. you played like you had no idea what we were talking about, your face a mask of crackhead composure even as the lies bled from your mouth, a wound left open only cuz you'd hidden the band-aid of your pipe beneath your mattress. i cussed you out and disowned you as only a thirteen year old could, dismissing you from my sight while assuming it'd be just that easy to rid you from my heart.

but it's never that easy, is it?

i remember when you taught me that dreams with wings sometimes soar too high too fast and folk who aren't prepared for the desent will crash and burn. i began to fear heights because i was witnessing the darkness of your lows and i figured it was just better to stay grounded at all times, to never have hope for things beyond my reach. i learned to play it safe, to find solace in stagnancy because being dynamic required strength and courage to move against the driving wind and i didn't have those things, because i thought you didn't have those things. i aged fifteen years during this time.

i remember when we talked and i realized i never really knew you at all. i reflected your surface but had never bothered submerging myself within your depths because i had judged you to be just as shallow as your actions said you were. it wasn't until that talk that i realized i reflected more than just the figure and look of you. you too had been molested as a child. you too had been raped as a young woman. i was able to see what you were doing to yourself in a different light. i recognized the self-hatred that led you to mutilate your spirit, to chop it up, stick it in a pipe, and smoke it. you thought it was worth less than the rock you bought on the street for the price of your lips upon dirty dicks, your tongue licking sweaty balls. you thought you were worthless.

just as i did when i slept around without a care for how i was treated, when i tried to commit suicide because i figured i wasn't worthy of happiness because i let myself be molested and raped. i might not have done exactly what you did, but what i did i did for the same reasons you did. we both reflected a lack of love for ourselves.

and we're so much alike, auntie. i see you fighting. i know your demons are more fierce and fire-breathing than mine and you've had more difficulty battling them. i know you are brought down by the weight of your dreams, once diaphanous and light, now falling from your shoulders in unwieldy tatters edged in acrid ashes.

i know because i fight everyday to prevent the depression from taking up residence in my mind. i fight to find worth in myself without having to seek external validation for it. i fight in part to show you that your reflection is beautiful because i am, for better or worse, a direct reflection of you.

i find acceptance with myself by accepting you. i find a way to love myself unconditionally by loving you, no matter what.

and i love you so very much.

that never stopped, auntie. no matter what you did, i could never stop loving you.

come home auntie.

come home please.

[to my blog fam. i know i have your thoughts and prayers. i apologize for the somber mood my blog has taken on recently, but such is life, right? know that we're all holding down the fort. this is both a sad time and a time for remembering, but in remembering, i revisit all the great times and that can't be bad, right? thank you for reminding me of that...you know who you are...

i just want to thank you for the support. i hope this entry reminds you of someone in your family you might have cast aside because of their behavior. you hurt because you love them. reach out and bring them back to you if you can.

i wrote this as a tribute to her, to let her know that even in those times when she was acting her ugliest, it was all just an act, cuz beauty ain't just skin deep with her...it's to the bone.

keep praying for us. i hope she really is just hiding. i won't contemplate the other option.]

did you ever doubt it?

please note nikki is in first place here...

and here

did you really think i was playing when i said i was good at this? dude, fantasy football is like sucking dick to me...i'm thorough and enthusiastic about it. okay, so now hopefully guys won't laugh at me when i try to discuss football with them (excluding amadeo, organized, and king, who will talk to me for hours about football. thank you for indulging me guys, although you still won't beat me in ff...)

and missy is representing in the pick'em league too. that makes three leagues being led by women. YEAH BABY!

truth...as ordered by aquababie

question: what's the worst extreme you been through for the sake of love? i mean something you normally wouldn't put up with for sake of affection/nookie/attention.

answer:

here's the backstory:

first day of reckoning
first day, part 2
first day, part 3
first day, part 4
first day, finale

well, the second day of reckoning was never written about although i have plans of telling that story too. in the meanwhile, he was my first real boyfriend and i loved him through elementary school and most of high school even though we broke up in elementary school.

so the worst i've done for the sake of love? i waited. i patterned my life in a way that i thought would make him want to be my boyfriend again, and this despite the fact i had boyfriends in high school. i thought my devotion would be enough for him to come back to me. i thought as long as i showed him i was willing to put him and his needs ahead of everyone else, he would want me again.

he was that secret i had tucked in my notebook, scribbled into the margins in whispers of my love for him. his initials were the ones i wrote next to mine, he was the one i worshipped with my prose.

and brotha never really gave me the time of day. we didn't go to the same high school until my junior year, but we lived in the same neighborhood, so i saw him often. he'd moved on to girls who were willing to kiss and more, and i was still a virgin who'd only experienced a handful of kisses.

i know i was young at that time, so i really shouldn't beat myself up about it. i know now i sought validation in his admiration of me. like, if he liked me, then i must be a good person, right? when i look back, i realize there were alot of times when i sought external approval in order to gain permission to approve of myself. that time when i 'fell in love' with this guy who was 'suffering' from his own insecurities as a result of an automobile accident that left him partially paralyzed. now this brotha was beautiful. i mean, i don't think i'd ever dated a guy that attractive up until then and we vibed on alot of levels. meanwhile, i was deathly afraid he'd leave me because he was so beautiful and appealing to women. i figured if i could get him to need me, he wouldn't leave me. i made myself available to him at all times, dropping whatever i was doing to cater to his needs. i think he loved what i did for him moreso than he loved me really and because i felt needed, i thought it was love. he needed me and he was broken, so i would be there to 'fix' him, although not completely. see, if he's completely fixed, then he'll leave me cuz he'll realize i'm not worthy of his near-perfection. no, i sought to make him dependent upon me, to make it seem as though only i had the answers for him. this way, he'd appreciate me more and never leave me. i would be this perfect girlfriend for him, always supportive of his endeavors, always offering an ear to listen, always affectionate when he needed it...kinda like a puppy...

in the meanwhile, i lost who i was because i was so busy fretting over him and fearing he'd leave me that i didn't realize my spirit had left me until months later when he left me anyway and my spirit wasn't there to console me. those were dark times, but necessary in that i was able to see my behavior for what it was...a desperate move based on my own inability to recognize and appreciate my own appeal.

i also realized that the love i wanted was the kind of love where we both evolved into better beings. what he and i had wasn't love at all. me catering to his every whim didn't allow him to grow and it stunted my own growth emotionally. love is about want, not need. i shouldn't need dude and he shouldn't need me. we should want to be together, period.

so i guess to bring it to a close...the worst i've done is wait...and sell my soul for what i thought would be the love that would validate my existence. in the end though, it also turned out to be the best thing i've done cuz i needed to walk that road to get here.

truth...as demanded by honeylibra...audiocast

TRUTH - as ordered by royce's daughter, miss ahmad, and ladynay...

royce's daughter's question: TRUTH? Ok so if you had to hook up two bloggers (to go out on a date together) any two at all... who would they be and why? I don't know where I got that one from LOL!!

i'd put you with ironmunki, cuz i've noticed you both are similar in alot of ways. you're both insightful and instrospective and creative and ridiculously talented. you two would at the very least have a mentally stimulating evening. it's obvious you both have an appreciation for the way each other's mind works and you love each other's writing. that's a start.

miss ahmad's question: Truth, do you believe in love at first sight. The kind of love that movies are written about, and Poets lament on. Real love, that happens in an instants?

i believe in want at first sight. i believe a person has in her mind the ideal mate for her, so when she sees that physically ideal brotha before her, she adds all the other mental attributes to the mix without talking to him first for confirmation, so in the end she's 'in love' with a fantasy cuz really, she don't know that cat. she wants him to be that cat who has all she wants in a man, though.

i think a person can be struck into lust with one look, but real love? until there's a meeting of the minds, i don't see it.

ladynay's question: For u, Truth. I didn't read the previous comments so forgive me if it's repeated...Have you been married before? You use so many analogies I am not really sure. LOL

yup.
_____________________________

epsilonicus has requested a dare:

aiight, you gotta post a photo of you and a chick you have a crush on presently.


josie has requested a truth:

hmmm...what is the worst heartbreak you've ever experienced and who was the one who orchestrated it? details requested please.

if you would like me to give you a truth or dare, let me know in the comment section and i will accomodate to the best of my ability.

TRUTH - as ordered by xavier. (most embarassing oral sex moment)

i was standing there with his dick in my hand and i was still unsure of how that shit got there.

i mentally started backtracking my steps, rewinding the moments back to when i saw him earlier that day. he'd met me outside of my 2 p.m. biology class. at first i thought he was there waiting on someone else. i mean, he was one of the most appealing brothas on campus and while i'd had my own stable of admirers, he was a cut above. 6'3, 230, a body carved straight out of the mold of an african warrior with skin dark like special and the whitest teeth i think i'd ever seen on a human being.

and he was waiting there at the entrance of my class. for me.

"hey nikki," he said as i walked up to him.

"hey wayne," i replied as cool as i please. i had to play off the nervousness even though everything in me was shivering, right down to my liver.

"can i walk you to your next class?"

HELL YEAH!

"sure."

so we're walking and i'm looking at him on the sly, greedily stealing pieces of his form to store away in my mind for those days when i was starved and needed to feast on a bit of perfection. no doubt, this cat was all that and a bag of chips. broad chest covered in a cotton shirt and jeans that looked like the materials had been created for the priviledge of laying just so across his legs and ass.

was there any doubt in my mind we were gonna be fucking? none, folk. none.

and yet i never imagined he'd have his dick in my hand roughly seven hours later.

we hadn't spoken much during the walk to class, mainly small talk about the weather and such. it was obvious he was rather challenged in the mental department, which unfortunately wasn't a rare affliction for football players at famu. but shit, i was young and shallow and really didn't give a shit about his conversation. it was just nice being escorted across campus by one of the most sought after brothas there. i was wearing him like ice, flaunting him in front of the females like he was ten carat, waiting for the sistas to oooh and aaah and whisper among themselves about how big and flawless that diamond was on my arm.

yeah, yeah...it was that ridiculous.

anyway, so after he walked me to class i didn't see him again until later that evening. it was about 9 p.m. and i was in one of the male dorm lobbies playing spades with friends. he walked up to me, cutting through the crowd standing around us with the ease of a confident brotha parting the legs of his lady. i looked up and saw him checking me and not paying attention to the table, promptly proceeded to renege.

"hol up nikki," one of my opponents said from my right, "you reneged."

i came to attention then, looked at my partner who was looking at me like we were runaway slaves bout ta get caught by de massa, even as she slid the offending book among the other's we had.

"nigga please," i responded derisively, "you know good and damn well i didn't renege. you just pissed cuz we whupping on dat ass."

he rolled his eyes, then reached over in my partner's direction, ready to flip over the book that would catch me in my lie.

"teresa switched the books, man," wayne said from where he was standing, "it's not that one...it's the third one from the right."

dude looked at him.

"thanks, man"

then he flipped it over.

it was the wrong book.

"DAMN!" he exclaimed, "that ain't the fucking book dawg!"

wayne looked perplexed as he responded.

"hey, i'm sorry man. my bad."

dude was pissed. he and his partner start arguing and i'm snickering as i gather the cards and start shuffling them. i make a quick glance in wayne's direction and he slowly winks at me. oh...i see...

i grinned.

played his boy so he could have better access to the pussy...shit, i wasn't mad at it.

"kim," i said to the girl standing behind me, "finish my hand for me aiight?"

i paid no attention to the people at the table as they made comments about me leaving. wayne turned, parting the crowd again as i walked behind him. we stepped out into the darkness outside and kept walking with no destination in mind. or so i thought. again, not much conversation. i can't even remember what we talked about but i'm sure it was something inane cuz really...wayne was not a bright bulb.

looking back on the moment i remember not even being aware we were at the racketball courts until he had me pinned up against the wall and was kissing me like he wanted to lick from the inside out. the lighting was dim except for the lone street light casting a weak ray of light onto the space from about fifty yards away. his body was flush against mine and his dick was erect and pressed against me, tenting his pants. we were kissing feverishly, running our hands over each other like water, making sure to touch upon every inch of each other as we kneaded and grasped and squeezed and pinched and caressed each other for what seemed like hours but was really only minutes. my head was spinning and he wasn't letting me come up for air so i broke off the kiss with a gasp.

and that's when i noticed i was holding his dick in my hand. how it got there i have no idea. i'm sure brothas got the manual on how to get a sista to hold his dick without her knowing until it's too late. it was like *poof* and his dick magically appeared in my hand. i wonder if that's how dav.id cop.per.field did it.

anyway, so now that the dick is in my hand i'm trying to decide what i should do with it. meanwhile, he let me know what he wanted me to do when he placed his hands behind my head and started shoving it towards his crotch. looking back on it, dude was crude. that was an amateur move right there. the key to getting a woman to suck a man's dick is to be slick about it. i mean, it should be like she wakes up with a dick in her mouth and she has no choice but to suck it or she's looking for a piece of candy to suck and brotha sticks his dick in her mouth and she's like "oh...i get it..." or he disguises the dick, sticking it in the hot dog bun and placing it in her hand like "here's lunch" or something. but pushing the head to the crotch? not a good look and it's success rate is about 5%.

so count me among the 5% of the females who fell for that shit. was it because he was one of the most popular guys on campus and i felt honored just to suck his dick? i'm sure that was part of it. was it because i felt obligated cuz i'd gotten him all horny and i knew i wasn't gonna fuck him that night? i'm sure that had something to do with it, too. however, the main reason was cuz i wanted to suck his dick, plain and simple, cuz as i stared down at it, it was just damn beautiful. long and thick and dark...

so i got down on my knees...

"spread your legs a little, boo." i whispered to him. he turned so that he was leaning against the wall before spreading them. i turned with him and then bent under him so that my face was underneath his scrotum. then i licked that sensitive spot located where the sac is attached, right before the crack of his ass begins.

i heard a soft whimper, kinda like a wounded dog. i glanced up as his silhouette, wondering if that noise had come from him. his eyes were closed and his face was painted in both exstacy and agony. he said nothing.

i continued with the assault.

i grabbed his asscheeks and pulled my face in closer, taking one ball in my mouth, then both, sucking them gently and humming, running my tongue around them thoroughly as his dick flexed and began slapping me in the face. he's groaning, damn near growling and i haven't even taking the dick in my mouth yet. i work up to it, kneading his ass with my hands as i licked every inch of skin directly surrounding the dick, every so often i would grab hold of the tip of his dick with my mouth and run my tongue quickly across the head.

by the time i finally took his dick into my mouth, his hips were humping frantically, trying to ram it down my throat. i damn near choked on it. i quickly leaned back.

"boo, you gonna kill me if you keep stabbing my mouth like that."

his breath was labored as he peered down at me.

"oh," he breathed, "my bad."

i went back to work.

i slowly engulf his dick, getting my throat prepared so i wouldn't gag as i took him down to the hilt.

i heard the whimper again. it sounded like a dying dog or something, high and squeaky. wayne's legs started trembling around me. i meticulously started devouring his dick, licking it and sucking it and caressing it. shit, i was worshipping that fucking dick. i was so into what i was doing i didn't notice the noises he was making until right before he was about to cum. i felt the rush of the cum so i quickly took him all in and waited for the cum to hit my throat before i swallowed it, sucking it hard and squeezing the base and his balls with my hands as he basically started screaming like a bitch getting stabbed or something. it was this loud keening screetch coupled with injured dog noises that went on and on for what seemed like minutes but really was just under a minute, like it was a woman AND her dog getting stabbed up multiple times. it scared the SHIT out of me.

and he was LOUD. i basically swallowed, jumped up and looked around me quickly, cuz surely somebody heard this dude. he was looking at me with his face twisted in that way a brotha's face twists when he just had the life sucked out of him. i was looking at him with my face twisted in that way a sista's face twists when she just had the life scared out of her. after an akward moment or two he stuffs his dick back into his pants. while he's doing so, i'm staring at his 6'3, 230 pound african warrior's body and wondering how the hell he could sound like a 5'0, 120 woman and her little poodle being chased by a killer when he cums.

as we walked back to the dorm in complete silence i wonder if maybe i imagined it. then i stole a look at him and saw his embarrassment and knew i hadn't. so then the next question became "is this a deal breaker?"

uh, i found out the answer about a week later.

come ON. dude was still fine as shit and that dick was HUGE and he knew how to USE IT. how i look turning him away just cuz he sounded like a little bitch when he came?

cuz he DAMN sure didn't fuck like one.

truth or dare, the saga continues (edited to include explanation)

begotten from trizzy who got it from the sexiest poet on the internet, xavier. i've got two truths to answer...

it's truth or dare, where you get to tell me if you want me to dare you or truth you in the comment section. i've only played this game a couple of times in my lifetime so basically, i'm a novice. either way, i'm down for the challenge.

and for those of you trying to squeeze out something to write about in your blog, here's the perfect topic, already provided!

da rules to dis game:

comment on this post and let me know if you want a truth or dare. i'll respond with a question or a dare, then you run over to your blog and post your response to the question or dare. make sure you reference the 'truth or dare' moto in the title of the entry so folk won't be all over your blog looking for your answer (unless you just WANT us to do it...)

guidelines:

1. nothing illegal
2. no nudity requests
3. nothing malicious

let's keep this fun and wicked ;)
____________________________________________________



here are the two truths i've been asked to answer, first from trizzy...

IF...Aswad (the beautiful man who happens to be your brother - I think we need a picture)was NOT your brother...would you pursue a relationship with him be it physical, mental, or both?

EDIT: I TOOK THE PHOTO DOWN PER OYO'S REQUEST CUZ SHE WILL INDEED GET BROOKLYN ON FOLK...

in answer to the question...i wouldn't pursue a relationship with him physically although i think he's very attractive. we'd make great friends.

here's why no to physical relationship:

1. he's a virgo and leos and virgos don't mix.
2. he has a way of shutting folk out when he wants to that i don't dig. i've been there, done that...can't do it with someone i'm involved with.
3. his interests are different from mine to the point where i know we're not compatible. we're both spiritual and introspective and love sports and other shit, but i'm a creative soul and figure i'll be with someone like that. i think i'm more compassionate, although i think he's more family-oriented and very loyal to folk he loves.

here's why yes to friendship (mental connection):

1. as i said before, we have alot of shit in common. he really is my best friend.
2. he's supportive of me and my endeavors and never tells me i can't do something.
3. i love the way his mind works, although alot of times it means i'm gonna get called out on some shit cuz my response wasn't tight enough.
4. he's just as loyal as i am and will do whatever is necessary for folk he loves.

he's not really my type physically, although i know he's attractive to females. i love 'em dark, but i also love 'em with some meat on them and he's not meaty enough. that's just me though.

okay, on to the next question, submitted by tcas:

Did you intentionally avoid us at the blogger hangouts with Miz JJ and Mocha or with RD and Blah, Blah, Blah.

*whew* cuz i thought you were gonna ask me who jerome was and i was gonna have to tell on the brotha. LOL

anyway, to answer your question:

i didn't intentionally avoid either events but i wasn't enthusiastic about one of them which made it easier for me to have other plans. in the case of rd and blah, i was taking care of my pops, but i know i could have made time if i was so inclined. i told blah a month back that i wanted to meet her and rd, but i didn't want you around. why? you know, so i won't have to go there. i tried to get up with rd but she was mad busy.

as for mizz jj and mocha, i was battling because i really wanted to meet them but i also had that cookout where de ex would be and i needed to make an appearance for appearance sakes. frankly, i wasn't sure if the plans with mocha and miz would fall through as you'd already said plans had been changed a couple of times already.

you were the common denominator in both equations. in other words, my adversion to seeing you again made me not all that enthusiastic about seeing them, as i couldn't cut you out just cuz i had my own issues, so i cut myself out instead. seeing as those issues are now resolved, i'd be down for a gathering when the next blogger comes to the atl so long as they don't interfere with family obligations (which have been getting hectic as of late.)

that truth enough for ya?

short and sweet

this weekend made me...smile. i'm writing about it as we speak so i'll post it tomorrow. in the meanwhile, organized noise and i made a bet and i won and he honored the terms of the bet, no questions asked, thereby proving he's not a punk.

i remember making a bet with this guy after i beat him in the college basketball tourney pick'em. he reneged. yeah, figure i'd call him out on it seeing as my boy organized represented.

hope you had a blessed monday! mine was indeed divine :)