Heart Chronicles – My Riders

I’ve often said at times in life, you find out who your riders really are. Moments in history where people show you who they are. Understanding the challenges thrown at you by life, they lend their energy, time, and resources to ensure that you can sufficiently meet and defeat the challenges facing you.

Times where it’s required for you to have your village show up for you. Supporting you to know they care. They see you and can, to some degree, feel your pain. Understanding to varying degrees the level of angst, relief, sadness, disappointment, pride, and love you feel in these situations. They marvel at you. The maturity, clarity, and calm that you possess and display.

Some questioning why you’re here to begin with. He didn’t like you at all. He loved you without question. They don’t understand why you’re here to acknowledge him when he failed to acknowledge you. What I found out was that sometimes, a former enemy can become an ally. The same one questioning you the most. The one with the most disappointment for who you are, realized, and/or understood the position you took and now take. Loving you for you. Enjoying and delighting in conversation.

Others wondering if you came for money and not the genuine love and support for your family. Bringing drama and dirt to the table that isn’t needed. Swatting that with calm and poise calmed all. Supported by a sister who knows your heart. Never doubting your respect and loyalty to your life principles. Familiar with your thoughts and feelings about the situation. Proud of your strength and resilience. Bouyed by your firmness and compassion.

The support of a friend, 34 years in the making. Oh, to be so fortunate and blessed to have someone in my life who loves me as a human so much to use his time to show up for me. No questions asked. My heart felt so much pride and joy. Words can’t fully encapsulate the level of respect and love that grew from me to him. I pray that you find that, that level of love. My best friend.

And my family… my blood family, cousins I love and fuck with bro. Aunts that ride with me so hard. Sisters who love me and cherish me. Brothers who love me and respect me. Never perfect, always striving to learn more to be more. My chosen family checking in amdist their hustling family life. Making sure I feel their love always. My sons taking their time to talk with me. Never leaving me alone if I reach out. My chocolate 🧸 bestie, lmao. Showing his love every day. Fussing with me and all. Lol. My lil baby callin in to show me love and keep me updated on his life. Giving me the support, care, and love we always promised to show, regardless of what’s happening.

My Atlanta family, bro. I love them so much. In the fuckery of life, they still manage to show up and speak. Talking with me, seeing about me. Never forcefully, always willingly. I’m so thankful for these people. Never needing to see about me. Always desiring to support me and keep me balanced. Distracting away from the shit being handled here. Giving me their time to comfort mines. This shit is challenging, bro.

For all those who just talked, I appreciate your words. That is more than what is required of you. Thank you for your support and love. For the friends who wish more could be done, I’m truly thankful for your existence. I wouldn’t be able to continue with vigor without you. The small things matter most.

For my MHO family. Bro, you a real one fr. You randomly show up and always by choice. Never ever by coercion. I will and am always eternally grateful for your care and concern, bro. May you be forever blessed. Just know what you know. You haven’t always been thinking. It’s understandable because you simply are functioning at times. Managing so much that you lose sight of all routine. To know someone understands and offers support.

To those who choose to be voluntarily absent. May you be given the joy of life that you seek. For me, this is where our street ends. Take care in life. Know that you will not be missed. I appreciate all the contributions you made to my life. Now, it’s time to go separate ways. Life’s challenges will always reveal who’s for you and who’s against you. Love yourself, forgive yourself, and build forward.

I’m so thankful for my riders, for my village. When times are tough, who shows up? Thank you to everyone. Special you are, and I will always be grateful for your love.

Heart Chronicles – Good bye

It began for you, August 3, 1948, and the sunset for you, December 25, 2024. There comes a time when we all must take our final breath and are laid for all to view. As I prepare for your final goodbye, I have had to help plan services for you when you never wanted a relationship with your openly gay son since I came out. I am reminded that alone in the world we came and alone in the world, we die.

Since I came back to my hometown, everything has felt forced and fake. People calling who don’t call. Always offering to be here to talk. Talk about what? It’s never been a secret that me and my father didn’t have a relationship at all. Maybe that’s why there’s so much silence. Very little genuine outreach. Whatever it is, I’ve felt it from most since news broke and I arrived here.

If you understand me at my core, you know that loving you doesn’t mean I necessarily like you or carry a healthy respect for you. I love my father. In life and death, I will always love him. Simply because he helped create me. There is a biological respect there that I will always honor. Never trying to mistake it for a genuine relationship. I don’t have a void to be filled from your passing. True enough, there is someone missing. I lost part of my existence. That’s a different kinda introspection.

When my grams died, that was a void. And to this day, it has yet to be filled. With you, after I came out, your void created when you walked away was filled by the women in my life. Not that I wasn’t open to a male figure stepping into that roll, but, real shit nobody ever stepped up. Not my uncles, cousins, or brothers. All the male shit I learned myself. Through trial and error. I patterned myself after the shit U neglected to do.

My momma, your ex-wife, is quick to remind me of the traits you have that were passed to me. I always accepted that I am a mix of my parents. I’m sure others would say I have some of you in me, naturally. What’s missed is how much I’m truly nothing like you. Why would you wanna create kids and never actively take a role in raising them and preparing them for the world. Leaving your responsibilities to our mommas and other family or friends to fill. I’m more disappointed that you couldn’t be man enough to address me. I accepted that years ago, too.

This journey to the end hasn’t been usual, normal or fun. Many days filled with questions and not getting any answers. Too many times, you shut down and went to my aunts with questions about how to handle me. How pathetic is that. My grams stayed in yo ass about me, and it never moved you. You lost your oldest son and instead of embracing me when you saw me at his service, paying my respect, you looked me dead center in the face, and ignored me like a common nigga in the street. But the woman behind me, whom you didn’t know, you greeted her with a smile and a polite handshake, thanking her for coming.

I remember the days as a child when you reluctantly came out to play basketball or football with me and my friends. Even thou you loved both sports. Anyone with a brain could see you weren’t interested. I remember being like 14 or 15, you showed me sum stanky ass magazines with naked women. Then, explained to me some of your nasty ass sex stories. I never gave a fuck and I didn’t wanna know. I know you felt it. I never faked happiness or excitement. I saw yours, thou. You thought you was indoctrinating me to your ways. Wrong nigga.

You were etching in my head shit I never wanted to do or how I wanted to be. Yea, I took some of them traits. My last three relationships have been fucked up in the sense that I didn’t hold all the value to them that they deserved. Rest assured, though, I truly respected and loved my ex’s. Always present and actively engaged in the relationship.

Through all of this, my solumn prayer is when you were alone in your final hours and minutes of life, you were at peace. I pray you found the forgiveness you needed and that now your spirit and soul are at peace. James L Reynolds Sr, I love you. For everything you were and all the shit you weren’t. I don’t exist without you, and that’s a respect that lives eternally.

Life Chronicles – The Mirror

I always pride myself on challenging myself to be the most honest and authentic version of me every day. I never say that I’m going to be the nicest or most respectful or understanding. Some days I’m not gonna be any of those things, some days I’ll be all of those things, and other days some combination of them. I always work to make sure I check myself daily. I constantly have talks about who I am, what I’m doing, why I’m doing it, and who I’m doing it for. The struggle for me, sometimes, is trying to figure out the why, and the who. I get triggered when I think about the saying you are what you attract. I don’t know that I fully believe that statement. And then other times I believe it’s deftly accurate. Could that be the reason that I tend to have the types of men in my life that I do? Then I start thinking about the type of men in my life and I’m confused again. Because the men of my life are varied in style, personality, looks, and approach to life. There are lazy ass niggas who come around, trifling ass niggas who come around, college-educated niggas who come around, street niggas who come around, college-age niggas who come around, sports niggas who come around, gaming niggas who come around, chill niggas who come around, freak niggas who come around, and basic ass niggas who come around. Can I really be all these people?

Or is it something more tangible than just you are the company you keep? Is it more concrete than you are what you attract? I attract faithful, loyal ass niggas. I also attract weak ass fuck niggas, and all talk no action niggas. Am I really these different types of niggas too? I guess, depending on who you ask, on any given day I am. I think that’s why when I look in the mirror, I’m always conflicted about who I am. The masculine, naturally dominant man who likes things to flow according to me. The masculine, chill man who is indifferent to people, who allows the moment to meet my needs. The man, no classification of me. Living genuinely as the day presents itself. The vibe and aura of the music heavily influencing the energy I give off that day. The mixture of masculine and feminine energy. One where I set my boundaries for the day, allowing people to test their limits of engagement with me. The submissive guy who wants someone to come after me. Be outgoing and not always so laid back. Life isn’t just a one-way hunt. Both people need to feel wanted and liked for the dynamics to work.

The truth is I wanna show any and all of me off in a given day and I want someone versatile and diverse enough to appreciate it and be able to handle it. Who shows interest in me and I show the same in return. At times it’s the first part missing that causes questions and uncertainty. It’s the dismissive conversation we have or the energy I receive when we talk or get face to face. Understanding that I may not be aware of the shit going on with you or in your mind. I can only speak from my perspective. If you choose to keep your mouth shut, you can’t say anything to me. You say can why didn’t I speak or say something? The same will be true for you. Especially if you’re the one who has the problem. Realizing that constantly communicating can also be a sign of insecurity, as much as it’s a sign of genuine interest and intrigue. How do I balance all this? The itch for constant mental stimulation. The want for consistent emotional stimulation. The need for consistent sexual satisfaction. And a desire to not have to start it off all the time. The desire to not feel time-limited or suffocated. I want your time and your energy, but I don’t want you physically here all the time to give it to me… or do I?

The question that’s been asked to me who fuckin know how much in my life, and especially the past month or so. As the more healed, recovered, me shows himself, there have been renewed questions about my single status. Always consistent in my answer, niggas here ain’t shit and don’t know what they want. Truth is that partially correct. Now, let’s add I just don’t have time for niggas who with nothing to bring to the table. Get some depth and substance to you. Show me more than just your delicious body, your big ass dick, or your pretty plump ass. Yes, lil booties matter, and even lil booties is plump if the proportions right. Let me know that there’s depth to you. That we can do more than just be a nice fuckuationship or imaginary friends with benefits, because the truth is all we are is fuck buddies who take time to talk because we enjoy the comforts of each other, temporarily. I love that, don’t get me wrong. Sex is such a strong, passionate force in my life. Similarly, I want more. I want someone to be able to fuck all the time. Top or bottom action, on sum real shit, probably both. LMFAO. Someone to actually share my day with. Not like having to live in my house or physically be here, but to talk with about my day and theirs.

That’s where I look at myself again and say, don’t you keep it transactional with people until they prove themselves to be life including worthy. You can’t operate in this fashion and then not allow others to do the same. Because you know how to filter through the bullshit more efficiently than them, doesn’t give you the right to push them to your timeline. That’s where part of your evolution, being more patient, is being tested. When you give someone details on how they’re not showing up for you, you must have the patience to let them show you they do. That doesn’t happen overnight. And for me, that means getting impatient and finding a second or third option, because I’m still single and there’s been no conversation or comments made that we exclusive so we both can keep doing what we want. However, energy starts to be given that the desire is to just fuck with each other. Why should I do that when you’re not fully meeting my needs? There is always the balance between I want you for sex and I want you for more than sex. Maybe I want you around and it’s nothing to do with sex, it’s just the person you are that I need in my life.

The balance between willingly being helpful and that being abused because of how you see life. The uncertainty of: are they there because you’re willingly helping with life challenging shit. There really will be no way to know until you aren’t needed for anything but wanted for everything. There is a gigantic ass difference and knowing when you are chosen because of who you are and not for what you bring is a calm and confidence that can’t fully be explained. That’s why so many people refuse to date down. They date equal and up. Which makes sense because it provides a sense of security that someone isn’t solely interested in what you can give, but more on what you bring to the situation. These are the things I wrestle with all the time. The mirror can be a beautiful reflection or a tortured reminder.

Tell me about your mirror.

Heart Chronicles – Fuck Nigga or Loyal Nigga

I know if you read that title off rip, you thinking what the fuck is this post even needed for? That would be ignorant of you and shortsighted too. It would also tell me that you really don’t know shit about me…LOL. You know I like to tease you with one thought and hit you with the true meaning behind the title. Let’s have this conversation for a minute because thinking about experiences and this is a very fair perspective to dig into.

When we think about some niggas today who are inconsistent with communication and appear to awkwardly or uncomfortably express and show their liking for you, we sometimes call them fuck niggas. Because they appear to be around to manipulate into being favorable to them and what they want. The pattern shows that when they’re most timely with their communication, is when there’s something to gain. Whether it be a free ride somewhere, money for their survival, or sex for the pleasuring of both of y’all. In this sense, you could easily say he a fuck nigga, because you don’t get most of his attention until he needs you for something. But that could also be part of the loyalty he’s showing you. No, it’s not the style or preferred way you want to communicate, but it’s actually very consistent in the way he approaches you. Then you can arguably say he’s a loyal nigga. He comes to you for the necessities of his life. Food to eat, things to buy that ensure he can have good hygiene, and to get him to important places he needs that aid his lifestyle and that fund it too.

Dig deeper into the puzzle, the truth is within every day y’all talk. There is always consistent checkin-in and following-up. You have a sense of what’s going on with each other. The reality is you’re intimately woven into his life now. Whether it’s to get weed, or to the store for a party he’s throwing, to getting food to eat, to eating cooked meals together, to being there while you work, and you, being present for his all-day panels he sits on. Within all that making time to talk to you, joke with you, sing for you, laugh with you, and spend true quality time together. Masked under the guise of life necessities is the building of something strong and stable. Seeing each other at different times of day and week. During the day, in the middle of the afternoon, evening time, nighttime, and late night. Truth is he’s been more open and transparent with his life than you have. In many respects, he sees that as a necessity for him to earn his way into your trust. Because you always come to the table with your chest wide open. People understanding who you are and why you are, but not the guts of you… the how.

Maybe that’s part of the dance that you have to do. Expressing to each other in specific terms who you are and how you move. Making sure that y’all understand the moves each other makes. The beautiful part of a dance with a stranger is that the awkwardness has to turn into beauty if you’re going to make the dance work. You have to learn each other’s tendencies. You have to understand what makes each other mad, happy, sad, all the shit that it takes to form something real. You can’t rush or push it; you must allow it to naturally happen. When the moments happen that make you feel a way, talk about that shit. Get understanding for each other. Learn about what makes him live as he does. Find out his back story. He will listen to you and learn about what makes you who you are. Again, hidden in the fuck nigga tendencies are real nigga traits. You can’t say you want someone real, honest, and open, then when you get that, you run because it’s being done the way you want it to. That’s being a hypocrite.

When he knows he’s wrong, he owns that shit. No fuckin around or dismissive conversations, he understands when he hurts your feelings, and he always makes sure to correct the action. He knows now how to avoid unnecessary tension with you, but because he’s toxic as fuck, he wants some of that tension. It lets him see the nigga inside you. It lets him understand that you won’t allow him to walk over you and just do whatever he wants. It makes him come down from the horse that gay society has put him on. That’s where the fuck nigga part of him comes in, somewhat. He’s the eye candy that almost every gay nigga out here gawks at. He knows he’s the center of attention. He’s a cool thug, a pretty masculine nigga, a charming hellraiser. The juxtaposition of all those analogies isn’t lost on me. All of them are true about him. The constant chess match. Never really knowing the temperature of the room until the moment comes. Adjust constantly to it and given grace to do so. The flip side of that is he also is a sex symbol. He advertises his body and his big ass dick. He knows what attention it brings, and the fact he can sing, rap, discuss, wrestle, run track, and has a generally dope ass personality, makes him all the more popular.

He’s been a street nigga since he was a teenager. Learning and living the street life at a young age. Seeing family get murdered also took a heavy hit on him. When your little brother gets taken out so young, how can you not have hatred in your heart and venom in your eyes? So, you do whateva you have to for your survival, even after the environment around you changes. It’s the order of the details of the story being told that you have to determine. Whatever it is though, you’re learning about the man and seeing where his fuck nigga traits come from. Add into the mix part of his survival includes associating with the punk/faggot scene in Atlanta. He’s part of those videos you see on socials when the gays be fighting at the club. He’s heavily involved in the mess and knows a lot about the people involved too. Then here comes the loyalty to you though, he always keeps you away from it. Never allowing too much of your conversation to be heard. But giving people enough of you to know that you’re the new something.

Then you have the light skin nigga that really don’t give a fuck about the perception people have of him. He’s a street nigga too. Not afraid of jail or tricks or anything that comes with that life. He’s someone that nobody would ever think of associating with you. Which means they ignore the basic principles of your life. Book covers never matter. He’s your typical cute, hood, light skin nigga. Not focused on the flash and pop of life. He likes the gutter better. Less attention on him and he does what he wants, how he wants to do it. He’s very toxic because he can be. Gay niggas love a manish nigga, especially when they light skin. His sex is good and when y’all around it’s definitely a good time. But he’s like you, he don’t really like people either. So, you don’t have consistent communication or even the most friendly, LMFAO. But, when it’s time, communication is very easy and simple. Until it’s not.

When he switches up and starts showing fuck nigga behavior, the flaking and disappearing after making plans, that’s when you have to move sideways with him too. Until the loyalty part shows up again. Remember y’all always find each other when you want to, and once you do it’s easy fireworks. This time around the energy is very different. Both of y’all remember the chemistry you share and the conversations you’ve had. Not ashamed of or embarrassed by your pasts. Y’all embrace it and make life-lasting bonds because of them. Here we go again, you have to now consider all the shit y’all talked about and the time y’all spend reuniting and shit versus the fuck nigga he showing himself to be now. Here’s another nigga willing to take accountability thou for his actions. So let’s ask the question again. Is this a fuck nigga or a loyal nigga? Always a top, his way of making up for his shit was to bottom for you. Shocked and awed by the moment. Definitely happy you got it. Now you wonder is there more to this? Is it that he’s always been verse and just never felt you deserved it until now? Is he a Verse top that found someone he wants to and feels comfortable enough to give them cheeks to? Time will give you the answers as it always does, you have to be willing to let it do so.

What about the unintentional fuck nigga. One who does all the right things on the surface. Consistently communicates and takes deep interest in your life and what’s going on in it. Always willing to be there and is available for you. At the same time, when those efforts aren’t rewarded with daddy thick dick, there’s this meltdown that seems to happen. A disappointment that causes the whole dynamic to shift. The communication becomes less personal and more basic. The energy decreases and the attention is limited. All being done because he didn’t get what he wanted when he wanted it. How is that not the definition of a fuck boy too? There isn’t just one way or one type of fuck nigga. Fuck niggas come in all shapes, sizes, types, and styles. A brown skin, socially awkward, socially aware, handsome, workout warrior is very capable of being a fuck nigga too. Then consider the loyal nigga traits shown too.

You have history that already confirms both are true of him. He has given you some fuck nigga traits with his stubbornness and refusal to change some behaviors that don’t promote the we but I model of dealing with people. That theme has been consistently present, mixed in with that has been the consistency of the communication and quality of care and attention given to you. Never being willing to settle for being out of your life. Always wanting to have that connection to you and affection for you. Wanting to show you the evolution occurring within him and how that could substantively benefit you. You’ve cooked meals together, showered together, laughed together, had dinner together, and sat quietly together. There is never a denial of the loyal nigga in him, but again I ask if you’re unwilling to make changes with things that matter, aren’t you also a fuck nigga too?

Then there’s the person who knows they a fuck nigga but for you they tryna be a loyal nigga. How do those two things ever resolve themselves favorably? The only way that you will be able to convince me that I should deal with you is to show me that you aren’t a fuck nigga. Let’s examine that too. You don’t listen, you don’t respond well to criticism. You’re too self-serving and you lack action. The fuck nigga who thinks they can talk their way through everything is hilarious to me. I could care less how good you look, how big of a bag you got, or anything else. The number one thing for me is you can’t talk one game and your actions playing a whole different game. Then that means I can’t take you seriously. Some people are shy, I understand that, but that’s an excuse. If you’re open enough to talk, then be just as open to showing what you talking. Otherwise, it’s best to leave me the fuck alone.

That’s a toxic fuck nigga because to have the capacity to have a full, coherent conversation about the shit and to keep doing the same thing is a fuck nigga in all its glory. LOL. To be forced into a recalibration of your dynamic and you still come out with the same fuck nigga actions is really weird. And that’s when we ask is he a loyal nigga? Even through all these warts, the nigga is consistent in his outreach to you. When you drop his ass for a few weeks, he takes the L, knowing he fucked up, and then reappears. Attempting foolishly to talk you into believing that he’s had some epiphany, and his life now has new meaning and understanding. He has a new drive to take more ownership over what and who is in his life. You know, the standard, typical fuck nigga line all these simp ass niggas give when they know a nigga is truly tired of the fuckery that comes with them. Credit given though, because he keeps trying. He keeps “working” on himself to present a version of himself that will appease you. Trying to more consistently display traits that you will approve of. Trais that will endear him to you and make you wanna consider the more loyal side of him than the fuck nigga side.

I’m not sure how I wind up dealing with people whose personalities split so easily in opposite ways. Different types of people and completely different personalities. I guess it fits with me because I’m sure some will say I display both fuck nigga and loyal nigga tendencies too. LOL.

Life Chronicles – America’s Misogyny Problem

I’ve digested my feelings for this past week. Again, I watched as America decided it will not elect a qualified woman to be President of this racist, patriarchal, White male-led country. The White women chose to vote with their race instead of their issues. The Latin community, mostly men, sided with a dictator, over their issues. Black men decided they would stay home and protest vote, while others decided to vote for a bigoted, racist who has never supported the community in the way it asks a Black woman to do. I’ve been reading, listening, and watching all the typical people come out and bullshit the nation about how out of touch the Democratic party is with blue collar workers. That’s the biggest fuckin lie in politics. They’re very in touch. Look at the policies of the current administration. Unemployment rate at 4%, good for all, especially Blacks. Student loan debt being cancelled and reduced. Paid Family leave being made law and required for all companies to offer. Persistent push to raise minimum wage, at all levels, to at least $15/hr. That raises the floor that all people get paid. That allows for people to make a wage that is more living life worthy.

Make sure LGBTQ+ people have equal rights and protections under the law. Providing quality healthcare access to more than 50 million people, who couldn’t get covered. And lowering costs for the hundreds of millions of others who have private insurance. Wow, they really must be out of touch. All you ignorant ass motha fuckas who sit out here and bitch about how things are, but you don’t vote and when you do, your dumb ass wastes your vote on people who will never win, or on a candidate who won’t do a fucking thing to help your life. Did your dumb asses forget what America was like under Trump pre-Covid. The economy was tanking. The stock market was high, but the job market was suffering. The economy lost millions of jobs under Trump before Covid. Oh, and for you ignorant ass people who think it was Trump who was responsible for the Covid payments, let me be the last and next to educate your stupid ass.

Congress is responsible for ALL financial laws and bills that become law. You got the money because of a Democratic-led House of Representatives, under the leadership of Speaker of the House, Nanci Pelosi. Oh, that’s right a WOMAN, you stupid bitches. She and her colleagues felt that all y’all ignorant Americans needed a check to make it easier for you to live in a shutdown economy. In fact, they wanted to give you MORE money. They wanted to give you between $2500-$3500 a month, for three to six months. Do you know who rejected that idea and stalled progress on it until the amount came down to the $1200 checks you got… DONALD TRUMP and the REPUBLICANS. So, for all the stupid people that voted for Trump because of the stimmi check, dumb bitch you didn’t get the check because of him, you got the check in spite of him. And more could’ve been had if he had been willing to agree to it.

Now that we’ve established that, let’s really unpack what happened. America is still a racist nation, founded for and catering to the whims of White men, and now, old ass, nasty White men. They flexed all their muscle this week and it showed with the White women, who for the past 4 years, have been trending away from Trump, but chose to support him at a 57% clip. We will have to find the perfect woman candidate to run and win. Let’s be honest, she will probably have to be a Republican, and the chances of a woman Republican candidate getting the nomination for President is as likely as me becoming President. Notice that in multiple Presidential nominating contests, Republicans have fielded qualified women candidates who were defeated handily, by the Orange blob. Democrats were able to nominate two candidates and both times America said they weren’t going to support her. In a country where 157+ million people voted in 2020, we’ve had 18+ million fewer people vote this year. And most of them were Democrats. Now explain that to me. And don’t say the economy because I’ve already given you the data that shows you’re better off.

And yes, Imma regular nigga who knows the price of everything is high as fuck. I also understand a President saying he wants to impose 20% tariffs is only going to cause the price of shit to go through the fuckin rough. But you dumb assholes think because he plays a successful businessman on tv that he’s going to fix shit. Now his administration is going to ride the economic and fiscal policies of the current administration for their first year or so in office and take credit. All those jobs that are about to start because of the Infrastructure bill that passed under this Congress and administration, his people are gonna try and take credit for that. And you stupid-ass simpletons are going to let him. When the truth is they will be because of Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, and the Democrats in the House of Representatives that got that legislation through Congress. What is it about this nation that when faced with the opportunity to continue growth and prosperity, you always choose regression, racism, misogyny, and divisiveness? I’ve only seen this country choose togetherness, in the modern era, once. The elections of Barack Obama as our 44th President. And because he didn’t give Black people, especially men, everything they wanted, they’ve vilified him every since.

We do not live in a country of balance and equality. We have always lived in a country of tolerance. The White ruling class tolerates Black prominence to an extent. When they feel it’s reached too far into their comfort, they will pull it back and remind folks of why America is never the greatest nation in the world. But adding to that, niggas, y’all are the biggest part of the problem. We constitute enough of a population block in this country that if we truly voted as a community 85% of the time in elections, do you know how many times the candidates that supported our initiatives and causes would have been elected. Can you imagine how different the country would be if we, Black people, took our vote as seriously as our ancestors who marched, bled, cried, and died for us to have this right? Yet, we choose to create some bullshit reasons, fake ass obstacles, and ignorant ass rationales why we have to sit out or support the racist over someone who truly is trying to improve the situation.

Now let me also not be ignorant or blind. I understand that Democrats haven’t done the best job at delivering on their promises at any point in this American experiment. When the political winds have been present, they’ve always chosen a pragmatic approach that attempts to isolate none and fully satisfy none as well. That definitely hurts their case when presented to people. The reason that the Republicans rarely suffer that fate, is because they don’t expand their tent truthfully. They open the backdoor for people who will latch on to one or two of their policies that fit their beliefs and ignore the 15 others that are contradictory to their daily life survival. We continue to live in this prism of oppression and repression. Allowing nigga turncoats like Candice Owens and Ray J and others to perpetuate the hate and divisiveness coming from the racists and bigots for their gain. If you want the real answers to what happened. White people became uncomfortable with Joe Biden because he’s too fucking old. Kamala Harris was the only candidate who could use the Presidential fundraising dollars amassed by the Biden Harris team. American people said they couldn’t vote for him, and they wouldn’t vote for her. Trump knew it and so did his people.

And let’s also be clear. I don’t want a single fucking media member, talking head, political advisor or anyone else coming to the Black community and asking or begging for us to do shit. Similarly, if you’re one of the ignorant niggas who voted for Trump or didn’t vote at all because you’re dumb as fuck, shut the fuck up! I don’t wanna hear your complaints, grips, or bitching. You are the reason that we’re all having to endure another 4 years of this ignorant shit. Fuck all you who thought that this was the best course of action. America will always be for the White man. The bigoted, racist, misogynistic, prejudiced White man.

Life Chronicles – Missing My Angel

Periodically I find myself caught by the emotions that strongly push through my body. Lately, I’ve been dealing with a mixture of sadness, disappointment, loneliness, and emptiness. Compound those feelings with being bipolar, and it’s pretty easy to slip into a depressive state. Which is kinda where I’ve found myself this past week. There hasn’t been anything significant that happened to push me into this space. Just my thoughts, and feelings mixing. The same manic episodes I have when I get angry are the same episodes I have when I get depressed. The difference this time is when I get the depression manic episodes, they don’t ease up as quickly. This week has been challenging. I miss my grams; I feel like my circle is fleeting and I don’t really feel appreciated. Too often I feel like it’s all about what I can do for someone and very rarely is it about the family bond, love, and togetherness that I intentionally work on cultivating.

Calling my momma this week just to check in and talk, turned into a panic about what’s wrong. The return phone call never came, though, once she knew nothing was wrong, I just called to talk to her. The same thing happened with my son the next day. Calling to check up and check in. Needing to handle business, and the day still being relatively early, I told him to handle it and call me back. Three days later, still no callback. But if the world was on fire, or their lives needed a resolution, I’m gonna be called immediately. The same is true for my niece. I do my best to keep consistent contact with her, often times responses take days to come. But, like most niggas, let it be some money involved and those come back-to-back. Eagerly awaiting a favorable reply, and when it comes the response is equally swift. Let it be a conversation to catch up, those are far between. Add to that, my “big bro”. Always willing to sit in the group chat and wax about the bullshit of togetherness and brotherhood. Yet, numerous times, he failed to follow through on his word with me. Another one of my brother-in-arms talked with me recently and made the comment that he hoped the group reciprocated the energy I give to it. I never affirmed him in that response. It’s no secret that most of the niggas in the group are full of hot, stanky air. No real truth coming from them. Just plaudits to make themselves sound and look good in the eyes of the group.

I never live for the accolades from people. I do appreciate the acknowledgment of and appreciation for my realness and open compassion for others. When it doesn’t happen, or it feels like it lacks authenticity it bothers me. Yes, I can say to anyone you don’t appreciate me. The response will always be yes, I do, how can you say that? You don’t know what I feel. And that answer is always one thousand percent correct. My response though, is also true; the actions and energy coming from you don’t make me feel that you do. And that’s where the stalemate enters. As more time passes and life continues to draw shorter, I take time to evaluate who does what to and with me. Who reaches out without me always having to speak first. Who takes time to have conversations with me and catch up on life. Who just uses me for one of the many talents that I possess. I even had someone attempt to blame me for their life being fucked up. Because they aim to please people, and they lose track of themselves in the process. The fact that he attempted the same process for learning about me, caused him to have the same effect as when he went after others. Now the issue is, I never ever asked for, or told him to do anything. I was amused at the attempt, but I was pissed off at the brazen ignorance. You try to make people fall for you by sticking around them all the time. Being clingy as a bitch and getting upset when you’re rejected for the clinginess. Even still, I never rejected him. I explained that I don’t want or need anyone trying to be in my space every day. Especially someone new to me. Allow time and life to allow us to learn and understand each other.

All of these different interactions stick out to me. Last week a friend had the nuts to ask for tickets to the Nicki Manage concert as a birthday present. Nigga we not that close, and even so, I don’t buy shit like that for my friends who haven’t been substantive friends in my life. Another friend who is as sweet as a piece of red velvet cake but has the consistency of an absent parent. Birthday time and you want to have an event, but you don’t communicate and always have an excuse as to why you can’t do something. Why are so many different types of people, displaying the exact same type of behavior? It defies most of the logic that some use to try and explain people. The old saying “birds of a feather flock together.” While there is validity in the statement, it’s an overgeneralization that needs context provided. In all the examples I cited, none of these people would be considered the same. Some women, some men. Some straight, some gay. Yet the behaviors are the same.

My homegirl who claims she wanted to have a smoke session months ago, never opens her mouth about it. Yet, we spend plenty time keying together. Everything is always left up to me. Everything is always dictated by what I say or don’t say. What I do or don’t do. And to some degree, that’s a large amount of responsibility. On the other hand, it’s very challenging, because I don’t want to always have to make the first move. Ask the first question. Does anyone have the true concept of what friendship, and companionship is? It’s not built on the back of one person. It takes both people to actively be engaged with each other. I think that’s been part of my problem lately. With every relationship in my life. Biological family, friends, chosen family, and colleagues, everyone just seems to sit back and wait on me to do everything. No one reaches out just to see how I am. Just to talk and catch up on life. Or if they do, it’s always about what I can do for them. Not if they can do something for me, or to see about me. It becomes a hurtful place after a while because being a leader doesn’t mean that you don’t want to be seen about.

That’s where I miss my angel most. Even though she would get fucked up trying to call me, because she would always get confused dialing my number, she tried. She would even get to the point of calling 411 and the operator would call my phone for her. LOL. I love that woman for that so much. She never let anything stand in her way of getting to her grandson. Anytime we talked she always made sure to make the beginning of the conversation about me. Wanting to know what’s going on in my life. All facets of my life and not because she wanted to know so she could run and tell it, but so she could be sure that I was well. I miss having that consistently present in my life. While there are a couple of people who try to incorporate elements of that, they miss the mark on consistency and tone. I always appreciate their efforts though, because they don’t have to do it at all. I’ve tried to listen to her when she told me don’t accept any wooden nickels or cardboard dimes. LMFAO. Meaning, don’t accept the fake shit that people sell you. Often when I don’t listen to those words is when the fuck shit happens.

She always brought the right amount of balance needed for me to offset the constant demands on me and the limited appreciation shown for my time and effort. It’s hard to hear from people that they don’t know what they would do if I wasn’t here. Or that I can’t die anytime soon because they don’t know how they would get through. When they do nothing to really appreciate me while I’m here. I guess it’s the reason so many people feel like they’re alone, even though their reach is wide and arching. When the substance you emit isn’t sufficiently returned, your levels deplete, and you have to find the recharge alone. I appreciate anyone who tries or has tried to offer themselves as a resource. I also am underwhelmed and often unfulfilled because the well is usually very low and inconsistently available.

All the changes that occurred in my life during the time she lived, she was always there for me. There for me no matter what I wanted to talk about or how I felt when we talked about shit. Even that one time we had a lil argument because I bucked back at her. She was unnecessarily aggressive and didn’t want to understand that I was not driving when I came home. Which meant I couldn’t come to see her as frequently as she was used to during my Thanksgiving vacation visit. She cussed me out while I was walking to the store to get my groceries for the week. And given that I was tired, hot, and walking, I couldn’t keep myself from returning the fire. She hung up the phone and called my momma. My momma called me, and I explained the situation to her. I gave her a day or two to think and calm down, then I called my grams back. She actually seemed happy that I stood up to her and held my ground when she tried to push back on me. We never spoke about it again and our relationship never wavered. We talked every week like clockwork.

My heart was severely damaged when my grandma passed away 5 years ago. My momma is still recovering, and I see the pain still in her eyes. My family was already dysfunctional before she passed, but we’ve taken it to new levels since she’s been gone. I’m the Swiss army knife of the family. I can navigate between everyone. I live outta state and I’m never in the middle of the drama because I don’t give a fuck. I miss being able to talk to everyone as a group. Not having to text one then the other, to get the others. Family traumas that have never been discussed and resolved. New family beef that seems to have no resolution in sight. Everyone struggling to carve their piece of ownership and leadership out of the pie. Forgetting that what makes this family so dynamic is the strength of the numbers we possess. We are smaller in packs because a family of 5 doesn’t carry the same weight as a family of 65. She was always able to make the family of 5 turn into 65, and that’s missing.

How do you continue to be the glue for everyone, when you have little glue for yourself. It’s the question that I ask more than a little bit. It’s one that I don’t know if I will ever find the answer to. Niggas don’t know how to be the glue. Too many are fucked up themselves and stuck on themselves. Others are figuring shit out like you are, they just lack the mental strength and foresight that you routinely call upon. Others are developing and aren’t ready to be consistent with their glue. Making mistakes is part of life. It happening publicly and embarrassingly isn’t always part of the plan, but it’s part of life. You definitely find out who really fucks with you and who was just along for the ride, long as the shit was clean. I appreciate anyone who knew or saw the wreck and decided to stand with me, not over me. Those who never knew but felt the pain and still rocked with me, I appreciate just as much. My angel, I wish you were here to talk to me. Laugh, joke, cry, encourage, support, love, care for me.

Heart Chronicles – Healing Hurts 3

The journey to close the wounds to your heart is extremely challenging, being bipolar adds an extra layer that many can never understand, and few will ever talk about. Part of the truth of the epic failure of my Dallas journey is that the person I chose to take with me and build a life, was trapped by his family. They saw that he had a boyfriend who truly loved him and wanted to see his life improve. I did things for him because he explained his story to me, and I wanted to see him win. Despite the challenges he faced, he seemed undeterred. He pushed himself to be better. He was leaving the fast life behind. Getting off the hard drugs and trying to live a life he could be proud of. He got his come up being with me, his family saw that, and their eyes only saw green. Not only did his family see green, but they became very manipulative and aggressive in their private conversations with him to get money out of me. That’s where many of the cracks began to show.

When your biological mother and the mother who raised you, both come at you all the time with they hands out, it’s hard to say no. The problem was he didn’t make money to the degree that I did. He didn’t know how to save and say no like I did. What complicated matters even more was the accident that he and his brother had. They had two different situations, and two different types of people advising them on what to do. He asked me what he should do. I gave him the truth, and told him how the process works, being a claims adjuster. I also rationalized with him to understand how getting money from accidents works. His settlement was nice and being someone not used to lump sums of money, he blew it all within a couple months, even though I also explained to him about saving and why he should. His brother played the long game, faked his injuries, and got a little more money. But he didn’t understand the process, a majority of the money went to the law firm he hired to represent him. Taking “loans” on the money from the insurance company to feed his drug habits and give his family money. My boyfriend did the same thing. Splurging on shit he really couldn’t afford and constantly giving his family money. Down to $500 in about 45 days.

I remember one argument we had one day after his family questioned my commitment to him because I was unwilling to regularly send money to them. When he got hooked back on hard drugs, and they found out, they quickly showed how little they really cared about him and more about the money he could give them. Quick to tell me he needs help, and he needs to get into rehab and all these things. Nobody offered to help pay for it. Nobody accepted part of the responsibility for constantly hounding him about money. Which means he harassed me for money, causing more issues in our already strained relationship. I accept and understand that part of what drew a wedge between us was his family. I also understood that he was a liar. Not being truthful about his prior sexual dealings, not being truthful about his drug problem. All these things compounded with rushing to be together and led to even more challenging times together.

When you understand that dynamics beyond your control are intimately affecting your relationship it’s hard to walk away, when you’ve become attached to the person at the center of the issues. That’s also where I must accept responsibility for allowing my life to crash out with him. There were numerous opportunities to walk away from him and rebuild the broken pieces, but I chose love and him. That has always been part of my downfall choosing the wrong man to love. Not always listening to my instincts when they scream walk the fuck away. This was one of those situations where I should have walked away and cut my losses, yet I chose to stay. The longer I stayed the more shit burnt up. Eventually, there was nothing left to burn and the whole situation exploded. Looking dumb and embarrassed, I walked away and went through this long journey to heal all the scars that relationship created. Damn man, sometimes it can be as simple as listening to yourself. This is one of those look yourself in the mirror and accept your shit. How I never allowed myself to get to the level of using hard drugs, I will never really know. I’m just thankful I have enough self-love to never get to that point.

Life Chronicles – The Resilient Era

Where the fuck does this shit begin… LOL. The decisions that we make have real life consequences on Us all the time, and we take them for granted far too often. A choice to fuck, instead of taking my ass to sleep so I can make the extra money I needed to make. That one choice began the series of decisions I made to find myself here. Needing to have a resilient era. I didn’t have the patience when my life was going well. I didn’t show the love and compassion that I usually have on fully display. I operated from a lustful, agitated place. One born from feeling judged, unappreciated, and not listened to. Ending something that had the potential to be life-lasting. Creating the full family dynamic I prayed for.

The communication needed for success was missing. Too much done in secret, not enough open and clear for us to discuss and come to one accord. I worked three times as hard as he did to maintain the support structure for our relationship. That was the downfall. Right after it ended, my kryptonite came along, and we were soo close to having what we dreamed about since 2006. Again, my impatience and impulsiveness wouldn’t let me sit the fuck still. Then my sex demon showed up and, well, that’s all it takes to fuck up the recipe. Who was there waiting, would be the person that threw the grenade into the building, and everything crumbled. I never knew what it was like to date someone on drugs until him. I had seen it around me before in a prior relationship with my boyfriend’s moms. Seeing that up close, nigga, I knew I never wanted to deal with someone who had that illness as a lover. It would require too much babying and handholding. Monitoring the mood to know how to speak and what to say. Trying to determine if the person will want to a sexaholic or isolate and just sleep. Or, if they want to fight and be violent. I wasn’t prepared to be with someone who was a drug addict. The extent of the lies, deceit, manipulation, instability, violence, dependency, and fear someone displays while being on hard drugs is overwhelming.

I didn’t know what to do and the only person I knew who could help me, gave me the advice that I already knew was the answer. As long as I choose to be with this man, I’m going to have to deal with this shit. Can’t keep talking about wanting to leave and constantly staying. Though not understanding, our lives are so tied together, even if I leave, until I break the ties that bind, we would still be linked together. The first mistake was following through. Had I never went to his house that night, I wouldn’t have known him. In Atlanta, at any time, if you set a link and then flake and never say shit, that’s a kill shot. You will be talked about, and that person not gone fuck wit you at all. Some people don’t care about doing that. If it takes too long, if they find someone else, they want, if they lose the mood, if they go to sleep, if the dynamics in their life change, the link will be canceled, and you may not know until they don’t respond anymore. At that time, I was one of those who cared about that shit. LOL. If I set a link, Imma show up to it, at least. Now if you didn’t match what you sent then, yo ass is done. Walk away and see another day. But you match what you send, and we gone have a good time. Spit the right game, you might be able to kick it at the crib. Show me the right consistency and you can probably live there. Playing house and living like we building something forreal. Knowing damn well, it’s more likely I get tired of them not doing shit or enough, or they get tired of being looked at as unequal, and the relationship ends.

Smartly, you didn’t really tie yourself up in him. You just let them come move with you. What happens when they hit Jackpot? You lose your fuckin mind and potentially blow up everything. That’s exactly what happened with this one. This era came to be because you didn’t have patience. You jumped at the first man who showed you consistent attention. No doubt the man loved you. What you didn’t see is that the more he fell in love with you, the more scared he became, which led him to start using hard drugs again. He wasn’t ready and you ignored it because you wanted to be the savior and victor. You wanted to take someone who had potential and let them see it. So, you could say that you didn’t forget the people who were once like you. I appreciate the mindset we had at the time, but that shit was so wrong. When the arguments went from simple and minor, to aggressive and complex. He went from being responsible and consistent, to sporadic and unreliable. Yet, you still remained undeterred. Everyone could see that he was not the right one for you. But you were blinded and made the decision. Cue the grenade. LOL. The second you made the choice to fuck him and not leave immediately after finishing, you sealed your fate. He became the next project attempt LOL. That’s what your kids used to say about you. You never told them what was really happening. If you had, they would’ve come running to save you. Doing whatever was necessary with him and his family, if necessary. Your kids are more protective of you than you think. You understood that you had to get yourself out of this fucked up situation. You put yourself here, you have to find your way out. Yes, you lost your career, car, apartment, health, nearly your life, and relationships. Allowing your lust for ass and a nice body, to cloud the vision of stability, health, and happiness. You compounded the fuck up by not allowing him to leave after the first blow-up y’all had in Texas. Thousands of dollars of damage were done to the property, and a red flag drawn to y’all because of his inability to control himself.

The biggest fuck up you made, was connecting your lives together on paper. Mixing his name and your name purchasing cars together was stupid. You knew he couldn’t be counted on, but here you are, paying for his shit. Doing the normal Zay shit because that’s the type of nigga you are, and the people who you normally fuck with, appreciate it and respect it. This nigga was far more street, that impressed him, but he didn’t overly respect you. There was a toughness missing from you, that definitely you carry now. You allowed him to see your vulnerability for him and exploited it for as long as he could until you said enough. The fights, the arguments, the violence, the damage, the hurt, the hate, the disgust, the disrespect, anger, the frustration, the fear, the betrayal. There were venomous words spoken, hostile acts performed, love made, lust revealed, fears realized, a heart destroyed, a life left in pieces. After being embarrassed at your job numerous times, nearly being fired shortly after beginning. Losing the best job he would’ve ever had because he didn’t want to stop smoking Tina. Any of those moments you could have chosen to walk away. Instead, you stayed and continued to get battered, beaten, and destroyed. You arrived feeling good, nervous, and scared, but determined and resolved. Once he lost that job and you saw the fear become raw and exposed, You knew, shit was over!

He burned everything you spent so much time and effort building. The core of You. The things you desperately wanted in life. The family you built, the career you were building, the life you created. it was all over. It crashed out and blew up!! Shambles and pieces. I know it felt like a sledgehammer was wrecked through the foundation. Crippling you to a place you never knew, never dared to consider living in. It shattered you to places unrecognizable. Now, the foundation has been rebuilt. You are standing up on your terms and time. Living and learning. Growing and experiencing. Accepting who You are and where the red lights are. Don’t overexpose your hand or yourself. There was a raw exposure of your life to everyone you knew. You were forced to be seen in the light that you honestly created. Separate from the one that the world had come to know. You were seen as the example and the standard. Having full moral clarity of judgment and choice. While on the ugly underbelly, you were the breathing definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The undeniable truths were coming to the front; you couldn’t deny any of them. The fucked up part is all of his truths came out as well and they were overlooked because he was willing to be louder about your facts than you were about his. Here is the truth. He was being a slut just like I was. There were no intentions from either of us. It was just supposed to be one time. But immediately we realized that there was a magic that can’t be explained or understood if you haven’t experienced it before. There was an immediate comfort that formed between us. We felt this organic transformation. We went from strangers in the night, meeting for a nice fuck, to immediate bedfellows. LMFAO. Niggas who chose to settle down together and try to build something. The problem with that, is neither of us had taken the time to address the dark underbellies that killed our relationship.

He was a drug addict at heart still. He lived a fast life, just one cloaked in mystery and newness. His nasty deeps happened in Florida. Not quickly or easily referenced. There was one person that served as his life cover. Years spent in the ebbs and flows of a toxic relationship. No one knowing the bones he collecting, except his older brother. They were wingmen in each other’s business for years. When the shit hit the fan, he didn’t take anyone’s side. He was honest to the core, and that’s why I loved him so much. I was wrong for my part. I never was unwilling to accept my faults. I understood as clearly as anyone can, that I was dead wrong. Additionally, I had my ass covered. I couldn’t have been the one to give it to him. He was already living the life before I met him. His brother told those truths too. He knew it couldn’t have been me, and he said it live on social media for the world to see. That’s when things started to change, more favorably to me, because even though I was negligent, he was way fuckin more out of pocket than me. That nigga was out there low low bussin down. But it did come to light. That’s when the drugs took center stage, and his brother had to exit left because he was culprit responsible for that too. That’s when it came back to You. Choices had to be made quickly and you couldn’t resist the lust that powered you. He was ideal when he kept his shit together. Handsome, caramel, masc-fem boy with all the shit you want. Problem is… he was on that shit, and you didn’t know anything about it, until it too late, while still being early enough.

The introduction to him wasn’t the best. He was referenced and rarely seen. You continued to be out in the city, with him, but he was never invited in, to the family that you built He chose to include you in his family circle. You traveled with him to his hometown to meet his family. You got to see the dark underbelly of his life that he was getting away from. It was one built on, from, in, with the streets. Hustling was the only way they all knew to get what they wanted. There were two that were close, who wanted better for him. Wanted him to do different and be different than the rest. They saw his potential and knew all he needed was someone to guide him in another direction. He was always reluctant though. Scared to be considered a trader on his people, because he got out and didn’t give it right back to them. Like they were used to in the past when he took a man with some income. He got from him and gave to them. Not in that sense though. He worked and kept his own. Never willing to allow anyone to be in control of him. He didn’t have that established here yet. It was in the beginning stages of being built. He was following the typical new to Atlanta plan. Come with family, find a place, live on the go until you can get your own. Or, until you find someone that can build something lasting.

His demons and his structure were on full display to you. He knew it and wanted to get away. He wanted to show you why you’re only heard and viewed, never seen. Because your presentation is an invitation to them. Now you have a new source, and they need to tap into that. Once you showed him that you were willing to play the game, he did exactly what he’s always done and what his family wanted him to do. The problem is… you weren’t going to give him money to support them. You would help them when the occasion happened. It opened a fissure that grew to become an abscess, and it blew up and oozed out on everything. His fear of failing and not being enough for you turned him harder to the drugs and at that point, you lost him. The relationship was never going to be the same. His family was more successful at getting in his ear about asking me for money for them. Originally, he was on my side. Then once he started back on the drugs, and his sister came to stay with us for a few days. The recon mission was complete and now the operation became get embedded and get all that you could.

I was addicted to men with balance. A masculine and feminine twist that drove me insane. He was that to the max. Look at his body and got damn. Nice long dick, cute peach ass. Inwardly as sweet and submissive as I love. He was in a state of rebuild and I had built a solid foundation already. I knew what the roadblocks were, and I wanted to navigate them. I thought I could make it a smooth transition into my life until I realized his phone profile tilted far more feminine that I understood. I kept him away from the inner reaches of my circle and I could tell he wanted that more than anything. I would never let him get too close to me and he could feel it. He didn’t know my momma, or anyone close to me. It was always just me and him when we went out. Never seeing anyone I knew, and if I did, I was very discreet and quick about it. His curiosity about my life was intriguing and scary. I gave him details that he craved but he would want specifics and I was never comfortable giving him those.

Because I would never give him the details he went searching. He looked around and he found things. He discovered other parts of who I am. We left the church because he realized that some of the church members are former fuck friends, fucks, or crushes. That also hurt our foundation because we found common bond in church. His mother who raised him instilled the church into his foundation. That was one of the easiest bonding points. When we lost that connection, that was the last straw. He became reckless and destructive. The drugs had become the focus and things went left quickly. I had numerous opportunities to get away from him, but I always stayed around. Willing to try and figure it out, because I loved him, and I wanted to build the future with someone who wanted it just as bad as I did.

He began to find out just how much of a slut you were here. People he came across, that already had come across you too. Some openly flaunted that they had you in bed. Others wanting to sow seeds of doubt and jealousy, exposed my dating history. Nothing to be ashamed of by far, but to show him the type of men I’ve had on my arm. Also to show that I have a pattern for being with people who need to be built up. Fair or unfair that was the label. Acknowledging that I usually had a better financial situation than my partner, the truth was their spirits always touched me. My heart has always been open to anyone, but those with something to lose take too long to act on the real-life they see in their faces. Understandably worried about the impact to the success they’ve already attained. Dating them was more difficult because even if you manage to find someone who isn’t that procrastinating, there’s often this innate nature of competition that takes over. The needle has to be thread perfectly, and that takes too much time. If they’ve been scared, they’re stuck for way too long on how to recover and when to allow themselves to feel whole again.

We did this dance for two years. At the beginning, we overcame the fear of opening up. Testing the authenticity of our feelings and desires to build a life together, independent from what society around us we should be. We traversed the city. Going to different attractions and nature walks. Having dinner at nice restaurants. Enjoying our time together. Letting the world see that we have something lasting. Some bitter, some envious, some happy, some elated for the love and joy they saw on their screens. Cooking dinner together, playing the game together, falling asleep cuddled up on the sofa. A beautiful love story that was unfolding without caring about what anyone thought. Early stumbles offset by understanding, talking, and love. Once his self-doubt crept in, the disagreements became marked by him lashing out and becoming overly aggressive. It longer for the talks to sufficiently calm him down, but they eventually did. Problem is, my underbelly was beginning to expose itself and he was going to rip it apart. After the initial reaction to my inner slut past showing up calmed down, his insecurities blew them scars wide open. Questioning my secrecy of him in the physical world. Offen times present when I’m talking to my close friends and family, because we do live together, but not brought into the discussion at all. Never going out to dinner or some activity together. Never coming over for dinner.

It’s pretty tough to believe your man when he says who he is, and what he used to do before he met you because he stopped doing everything after meeting you. The truth is I never thought he was going to last long. I never anticipated my heart getting so entangled with his. Once your heart decides to wrap its veins around the heart of another nigga, you don’t know how long it’s going to take for you to unwrap yourself, should that day come… It took a long time, and it caused a lot of fuckin pain. As we allowed the peace to settle on our relationship, the next bomb dropped that was the kill shot. I was moving to Texas for a career promotion. It wasn’t a rushed decision. I had thought it out and been planning. I didn’t expect to meet someone here that I would want to take with me there. This was really the last best chance to get away from him and save myself from what would happen. I chose to stay. I wanted to fight for the love I thought we had. Hoping that the story he sold me could be true. That he just needed a fresh start in a different place we’ve never been. No one has the advantage of anything He was gone work and I was gone work and build our friend circles from that.

We worked hard in the final couple months living in Atlanta to focus and handle business. To learn how to be friends and lovers again. Starting to rebuild our trust in and for each other. It was rough as fuck, LOL. But we were doing it. We were finding our way to laughing and enjoying each other’s company. The problem there, was he had gotten sucked back into the drug and drama family life back in Florida. Part of our reset included him going back and forth to Florida some weekends, to see his family. We always got mixed support from his people. They constantly talked about how happy they was that he found someone to help him grow out of his negative, toxic ways. While also questioning if we could make it because of his past. Wondering about why I don’t show you off to my family, at the very least my friends. The argument was valid given the dependency in our relationship on each other. I never have been the most open person about every nigga I date though. The right people knew about him from the beginning. They were acutely aware of him and knew when we had issues.

The plan was to find our house. Have an apartment first couple years and then look for a home we could create. He got a job being a bus driver for the Carrollton County school district. The company also did private bus driving for the three major sports teams in Dallas, The Cowboys, Mavericks, and Rangers. The pay was amazing, and the opportunities were even better. That nigga had it made. Guy said they pay for his CDL training and license. They warn of the drug test day so if you do smoke, you can be prepared. He didn’t care. He wanted a hit bad enough that he blew it off and failed the test. Automatic termination from the training program. Here we are back in the same position we found ourselves in Atlanta. No job, drug habit starting to rage, and add to it, in an unknown and unfamiliar environment. We had a falling out early after we moved, bad enough for him to pack his shit and leave. That was the second time I had to get fully away from him with limited damage done. ANd yet, I called him back, fighting to keep the relationship.

The disagreements became fights. The arguments turned violent, and I began to spiral to a place I didn’t know, to a person I didn’t recognize. His fear and frustration boiling over, raging every day. Never sure if I’m going to have to flight or fight, I slept with all my clothes on. After taking a shower always putting on enough that I needed very little to get out the house. Bruises, cuts, and scars randomly showing up on my face. When he was high from smoking meth, everything about him changed. He was far more volatile and moody. He didn’t eat and was constantly horny, We argued so aggressively and disrespectfully. We lost our apartment because of his temper and violence He exposed to my family that I had over 200 sex partners during one argument. And while that’s true, that number was vastly understated. The damage was done though. My momma didn’t look at me the same for years. He publicly exposed my underbelly slut to the world on social media. He created drama and tension with my circle and birth families. I began to isolate from everyone the more public my shit, and our relationship became. I got to see who really fucked with me though. The people that needed to step back to see the forest, offered their unwavering support when called upon.

The first major act of disrespect was when he spit on me after a fight we had. We argued and literally fought. It was so disgusting and embarrassing. But he was on the drugs and that shit made him Superman. His strength was something weird. So while getting up he spit on me and I left the house. He would later apologize and we would move forward from that, but it was a moment that I needed to move on from if we were going to make it. While that is enough to make me leave, I felt like I couldn’t. Our lives have become so intertwined by this point leaving just wasn’t feasible yet. The second major disrespectful moment was when he tried to kill me with his car. By this time we were living in the extended stay and surviving. Budgeting to get out, but his drugs always kept us there. He had been on a drug binge and accused me of sleeping with other people. Despite the fact I’m working two jobs because my one, good paying job, couldn’t take of us and his drug habit.

He comes up to my job while I’m about to leave out for a delivery and starts an argument. He follows me down the street, then chased behind me, until we were on a street where he could speed up beside me. He was on my phone and told me that he would kill us both. And at the very next thing that happened was his attempt to do that. He mashed the gas pedal on his car and sped up next to me, swerved right, crashed into my driver-side door and, because he was going so fast, his car flew in the air and landed on the other street. It was the most unreal shit I’ve ever seen. He was actually hell-bent on killing me. If you saw the initial point of impact and realized that the wheel of his car was less than 2 inches from going through my driver-side windshield. The result could’ve been my death. One of the families that lived in the neighborhood called the police and he was arrested. They charged him with aggravated battery with a deadly weapon. If he were to be convicted he would’ve been sentenced to between 1-10 years, since the charge is a felony.

To protect him, I chose not to tell my family about that incident. I only told my best friend after it had happened. His family knew everything because they needed to bond him out of jail. They were all reluctant to help, except his birth mother. That came with massive strings attached that would throw even more drama on an already super fuckin hot fire. He got out, and I refused to participate with the prosecution on the case. They didn’t subpoena me to testify but they informed me that they could. No charges were ever brought since the grand jury didn’t have enough evidence. That’s enough to push anyone to the edge and over right. Not to mention in between all this, he came to my job and caused scenes, we fought at the extended stay and I would sleep outside. During one of our separations, the next major disrespectful act, he brought a nigga to the room while I was gone to work. And then left to go fuck him. He was mad because I didn’t wanna have sex as much as he did. He was forgetting that we were living in an unknown place, with no money, living check to check, he quit his job, got back hooked on drugs and I have to maintain everything. Fucking was the last thing on my mind. That never happened again, and for a while, things got better afterward. The final disrespectful act happened when he woke me up out my sleep, aggressively taking my clothes off and shoving his fingers inside my ass. He claimed he wanted to see if I was cheating. If I had allowed someone to fuck me. That shit made no sense to me at all. I left and drove over 20 hours home to see my momma. Determined not to quit, I went back to continue a journey I started. Which led to the third chance I had to get away from him.

It was nearly Christmas 2017 and we were at the pinnacle of our last big fallout before being forced to leave Texas. He was ready to leave and I was ready for him to go. He went back and this was considered our final breakup. The distance actually did good for us. Away from the constant reminder of how fucked up shit was, we just became the better versions of ourselves that we enjoyed. Leading to his epic final return. During this last 2 month run, the drug habit caught up to me, and I car was repossessed for nonpayment. He had to take me to work and on the days he was high and we had disagreements, he made me late. My job was on a points system and tardiness accumulated points. I had random and unplanned callouts, because of his ass, which added to my points. He caused me to be late on final time, and the next day I was fired. Instead of staying depressed, I pivoted, returned back to Atlanta. Here I knew how to maneuver, had more resources, and could rebuild on my own. All the entanglements between me and him had been severed. The car was the last piece and he fucked around and got that repossessed for missing his payments.

After we got back, we agreed on the drive that the bullshit must stop. No more drugs, no more hiding. Building up from the beginning. Incorporating ourselves more in each other’s personal lives. That lasted all of a week. The drugs came back and this time I wasn’t staying. The fourth chance came for me to leave and I left without looking back. I got my own room, stayed long enough to do my new hire stuff for my job, and because of a city issue that delayed my start date for my job, I went home to my momma for a month. Breaking the tie, destroying the bond. Bridge torched. That day in March 2018 was the final time that we would have business. By time I came back for work, he was doing his fuck shit. Fucking people I know, and telling me that he did it. I blocked his access to me and that began my road to healing. Over 3 years in total of dealing with this man, and now he’s gone. So much negativity and pain. I closed the chapter by going back to revisit the sites of the most tramautic pain in Texas. Allowing my heart, mind, and spirit to find the closure it needed. Time to take my life back. It’s a lot of dark moments, traumatic events, and painful stories that grow me to where I am today. The Resilient Era is alive and starting…

Heart Chronicles – Trailblazing hurts

Bro… it took reminding from my fiercest supporter that uniqueness isn’t always understood. Being different and determined is challenging. The world accepts U, generally, but the circle around U may not always rock wit U. Sometimes the person U think that would appreciate U, because U were always encouraged to be authentically U. Never compromise Urself for the sake of anyone else. With the passion and fervor that you apply to ur life, there should never be a surprise by those closest to you that Ure always going to live in a space separate from the masses. Always willing to evolve Urself and let the world see that Ure proud of who U are. Sadly, on this leg of the journey, she may not be as understanding or appreciative of who U are. It saddened me when I displayed another version of who I am, one that’s not new, just an upgraded, developed, evolved version of U.

To know me is to know that I have always embraced ALL of who I am. I made a promise to myself that as I recovered from this latest public embarrassment, that I would never allow myself to compromise who I am for ANYBODY. It doesn’t matter if you’re my blood or my chosen. ANYONE who didn’t accept who I am, in ALL my forms and might, can’t be around me. No love lost, no ill feelings, we just don’t have much to say. Applying this theory across the board to ALL. Giving little, if no exceptions to the situation. Well, now I’m conflicted because if I’m true to myself and those principles, the biggest and most determined supporter I’ve ever had, has to go back to a place of less access. I know many will read this and say WTF U mean nigga? Because this one thing that U do doesn’t land with the soft landing that U expected, U back away? WTF are U thinking? That is the definition of hypocrisy. U can never be this serious right? Unless Ure right, the reaction comes because this is not new. It’s not something that U just started doing now. This era of U existed before U left. U were happy, thriving, growing, developing, evolving, becoming loving. The ones who don’t know or never experienced don’t know how to handle it. The world has watched a disgraceful fall, become a remarkable, dynamic comeback. She’s had a front row seat to it ALL. She’s seen U in all the versions of U that exist. This one was displayed when U wore Ur pearls and fashionably stole the room.

He came to play for the wedding. I mean did she not see the style, pop, shine, glow that U had when U arrived in that bad ass fit? The room knew U had arrived, and nigga U stole the whole show. It was amazing, right…? Ur son, and by extension, U, got the shine for the weekend. Gettin and giving love to the whole room. An impartial observer, whose purpose to show love and respect. Love on the people, hear them out, provide my support and go back home. Knowing that I had secured an understanding for the issues. Also knowing that U really aren’t at the center of anything, because I listened, confirmed, and assured that was to be the case. Someone, who for 21 years has watched U become such a dynamic man. Not always seeing the earliest versions out of respect and a full lack of understanding of who U were, but happily able to let her see U once U found out who U really are. The urgency and disappointment she called to discuss what U did was simply astonishing. I’ve never heard such a concerned tone to Ur voice in who knows how many years. Now U already think that I’m showing out. And this next step was too far for U. Now Ure worried that I may be going too far. Are U really questioning whether I know what I’m doing? Are U really wanting me to stop fully being who I am. Knowing that everything has boundaries, and I know when too much is too much, but this is me. Nothing disrespectful, outlandish, or uncommon. Do U really watch sports these days? The number one pick in the NFL draft THIS year wears PINK nails. One of the world’s best MMA fighters has a French manicure when he fights. I’ve allowed myself to live in that reality because that too is truly part of who I am. I did this in my era right before this current one ended. Grace given because maybe Uve forgotten because this past season was bitter as fuck. That bitch hurt like a motha fucka.

I’ve always set to live my life according to me. Occasionally allowing someone else to come and anchor in my life. Giving importance to them and what they need. Showing love and care. Compassion and understanding. Willing to slow myself down and wait for someone to come join me where I am. Feeling that if I can show U that I love U and support U. Willing to take care of U and help U get settled on Ur feet. Whether or not U build into me wasn’t as important. Always knowing that I wanted that. U told me long ago that I do better when I’m alone. Because when I get with someone, I always put them first and not myself. It was an honest critique that was one thousand percent accurate. Nothing else needed to be said. I had to work that, and I did. I showed U that I could allow someone to find me who wanted to be with me. Not for what I can do for him, but because he wants me. That’s the last man that I felt was worthy enough to meet U. Because, in my eyes, U are my star, sun, and moon. There isn’t anything I’ve accomplished that hasn’t come from Ur lessons. My heart and compassion comes from U. I watched what U did and I didn’t replicate that. I did however take all that compassion that U always displayed, and told me to keep, overtake me at times. Sometimes it was the wrong time and with the wrong persons.

Early on, I allowed in at an intimate level. Understanding, however, the need for U not to be as strong a presence because I was starting to drift out of the full wholesome niggas I first dated. The ones who were young and ambitious like me. I knew because of my curiosity, my strong sexual urges, and my beautiful, chocolate skin, face, and body that I was going to be hot on the market. And true shit, when me and my first ended, I became the ticket. Real shit I found the next man that was supposed to be the love of my life. We were both young as fuck, innocent still, beautiful, loving, affectionate, caring people. I was almost ready to introduce U to him and not the person U wound up meeting. I made the first bad mistake that led to a series of them. But U met the first five men I ever dated. Those men equating the first 8 years of my life as an openly gay nigga. U witnessed the first transformation I ever made from pretend heterosexual, LMFAO, to a fresh openly gay man. I did ALL the young fun shit, early on. I was out late meeting boy, LOL. I met them in parking lots at night and all that young stuff…LOL. While U didn’t know about that early shit, U did meet the very first one. So Uve truly seen it all. Why now U felt so compelled to hit my phone with the urgent tone of a concerned parent. We just shared such special, lifelong bonds and moments just a few weeks ago. And now, we sit on the doorsteps of U basically saying that I’m being too gay, again, for U.

The last time I felt this level of concern was when I was in Texas. U felt my life threatened and U were ready to activate the village if necessary. I knew that if I allowed U to save me, in that moment, I would never have fully appreciated and learned the lesson. I endured what I did. I was fucked up for a long time, but U saw me thru it. Now it appears that Ure concerned or unapproving, of my current life choice. To add a little extra spice of personality to who I am. Allowing the outside world to see more of my inside world. What did U always teach me? Always be true to Urself. Know who U are and never apologize for it. Well, if I follow that theory, then I’m going to ignore what Ure saying to me. U know more than anything I pride myself on being current and authentic to me. Always advocating for myself. Never willing to accept anything that’s given to me. Ensuring that what I need is always met. Also, allowing myself to be on full display. Never allowing anyone to place me in a box that I don’t believe should be there to start. Amplifying a message that I’ve spoken about from the beginning, that U have never been at the front of my support. Uve been a trunk to me. Sturdy, reliable, dependable, but never my anchor, never fully understanding. We’ve had a few falling outs over the level of ur understanding and compassion for my lifestyle.

I know that Ure looking for the understanding as to why me and Grams could sit on the phone for hours, every week, and just talk. Easy-flowing conversation every single time. We talk about life, hers and mine. We get better understanding for what I’m trying to accomplish and what she wants to do. Me and U never had that kind of relationship. U never allowed urself to want to know too much because of U and ur husband. U allowed for a period of time to pass where U wanted to be confrontational about my decisions, rather than support me and let me have Ur love there to embrace me. I had to lean on a stranger because U chose to follow the ignorance of Ur husband and the church family. For too long a period of time, U were estranged to me. Failing to show up and support me like U promised. Stuck in the blinded musings of “The BLACK CHURCH”. Never underestimate what I remember. Grams told me from day one that she was going nowhere. Never going to look at me any differently because of my life decisions. Living in my truth was mandatory for me. I had already let the love of my life get away because I was young, and scared. I was not going to allow anything or anybody to disrupt this beautiful young love we had built.

We’ve had numerous fallouts over the years. The last one was about 17 years ago. It was very petty and unnecessary, but very understandable when I look back on it. I fully comprehend why it happened and why it needed to happen. My house is conducted with the same respect levels that U taught me that day. It also opened the first big fracture in our relationship after we had rebuilt it. U allowed the lesson to carry on too far. Leading me to leave for Florida. Experiencing life, one that I truly did enjoy and always thought about going back to get. Not the person, just me and that life. Orlando fit me good, and I was working to prepare for U to come visit. Problem was me and dummy stay on one accord long enough to settle down. U told me U felt so much guilt for that situation because U pushed me away. On some levels, I agree with U completely. Alternatively, I know the lesson U attempted to teach me. Honestly, U could’ve taught the same lesson without needing to go that far. U know I never had intentions to stay long term. I never wanted to live in my home state after high school. Too small, to me, of a city for me. There isn’t that immediate pop and movement.

We’ve disagreed and Uve never shown this level of concern before. Can U tell me why? Am I being too gay for U now, again? Grace given to U, so U can figure out how to handle this new development. 21 years and U still don’t accept Ur son fully. That’s so disappointing. I love U still and always will. I can’t back away because that’s not the order of the day. But I will have to do something, because this disappointment carried with me all thru the week. Released now, sad it was ever there.

Life Chronicles – This Ain’t Your Home

This topic is probably one of the more controversial topics that gets discussed in circles. When you were a child, how many times were you told, this is your home? You always need to be comfortable at home? I can’t even add them all up. Hell, I’m still told as an adult that home will always be home. Sometimes those words are questioned or challenged and then it’s revealed that, at times, parents really don’t want you to get comfortable. Because to them, it’s not really your home as a child. It’s the place you reside, that you get to call home until you’re old enough to leave and your own home. Is that fair? Is that accurate? Is that hypocritical? When should you start telling your child that this isn’t your actual home? That you’re really a guest. That at some point, the desire or the goal is for you to get out and have your own. And by that very definition do not get but so comfortable here. I’m going to teach you the lessons about being comfortable at home, so when you get your own, you will understand and be able to apply those practices in your life.

Is it destructive for your child to never believe that home is home until they have a place of their own? Is it harmful for you to tell your child “Go to Your room!” And then when you’re ready to have a more nuanced conversation, or when your child has grown older and started to do shit that you don’t agree with, you begin to tell them, hey this ain’t your home, don’t get too comfortable. I believe that speaking with that constant hypocrisy is not healthy or helpful in developing the sense of peace and appreciation for one’s own home. Telling your child that they can never get comfortable in the places or places you raise them is foolish as fuck to me. It doesn’t instill a sense of belonging or comfort for them. You actually begin to keep your child in a continuous state of unsettledness until they get a place of their own. Maybe that’s the goal. Maybe you never want your child to get comfortable being at home so they will always be inspired to move out. I wonder if that doesn’t create a little resentment towards the parent(s). Does that mean that if you do things that young people tend to do in their places of residence, that you’re disrespectful?

If you fuck in your parents’ home, are you really being disrespectful? I guess if the prevailing thought is that you’re a guest in the house, it could and would be considered disrespectful. But if you’re telling me that this is my home and I need to be and feel comfortable. I’m a minor who can’t get a hotel room legally, on my own, or I can’t use my friend’s place or the person who I’m trying to beat cheeks or get my cheeks beat by, what am I supposed to do? That’s why you have sooo many young people out here fucking in public, or in cars. Because they don’t want to disrespect the home they reside in. Very honorable and respectable on one hand, but very confusing on the other if this is my home. Yes, when you’re a grown adult and you still live with family, the dynamic is/can be different, but not entirely. Many parents tell their children, no matter age, to treat their home like it’s the child’s home. What do you do with that? If you fuck in the living room as opposed to your bedroom, are you being disrespectful? If you sneak someone in, is that respect? These are legitimate questions to ask that I believe don’t have one true answer. It will vary based upon who you are and how you were raised.

Isn’t that usually the reason why most young people wait until moms or grandma or whomever has gone to bed before getting it in. Or they wait for them to leave for work, so the house is empty? I have one specific situation that I was never thrown off by or felt a disrespect for. We had sex numerous times at his people’s house because that’s where he stayed, and he didn’t want to spend on a hotel for a couple hours, and neither did I. Some would say, then y’all just didn’t need to have sex. Or that both of us were being cheap. Others might say you could’ve fucked in the car or found a public place to do it. I don’t think that any of those suggestions are wrong. It didn’t fit the situation. We wanted to have time with each other, and the dynamics presented the house as the most efficient place to be. Being respectful not to make much noise, because we didn’t want to disturb the house with our fuckin sounds. LMFAO. But both of us felt assured and comfortable with each other, in the surroundings we found ourselves as we fucked. The funny part is that each of the three people that I connected with the dynamics were the same.

The house they reside in, not being theirs, but the one they comfortably live in. So, we waited until the house was either empty or sleeping and we discretely went about satisfying each other. While there have been other moments, when presented with the same scenario, the decision was made to fuck in the car, or outside, or wait until one or the other had a hotel room we could link in. All options are utilized depending on the moment and the understanding of the situation. That begs my next question though, is it considered disrespectful to fuck in the hotel you share with someone. Doesn’t have to be parents or family necessarily, what if you and friends get a hotel room somewhere and you find someone you want to link with. Is it ok to bring that person back to the shared room y’all have and fuck? Should that be kept out of the room out of courtesy to that person or people? Some believe that any shared space should be only used for PG-rated activities. Watching movies, holding hands or cuddling on the couch, playing games, eating dinner, shit like that.

Do all these rules or norms take away from the premise that home is supposed to be home? I’m supposed to be able to do in my own home what I want. If I live here, I should feel comfortable to do me. There is also where I think the conversation takes another turn. What qualifies the place to be yours? Is it when you start paying bills in the house? Is it when your name is on the lease or mortgage to the home? If I pay some bills, lights, internet, and food, does that allow me to have “house privileges” afforded to the primary payer? Does someone need to also be paying part of the rent or half of the rent to be able to call the residence their home and not their living place? It seems that all these measurables are very subjective. They will vary from person to person, and that’s fair too, I suppose. Life is never monolithic, so we should never expect a topic like this to be clear and universal. I grew up being told that my momma’s house was my home. Never been told anything different. As such, there have been times when I’ve clapped cheeks in the house. Not to be disrespectful or trifling, but just because I’m home and sometimes that’s one of the things I do at home when I don’t feel like getting dressed, driving, and using my gas. LOL.

Have you ever had sex while your parents were staying at your house? Do you feel that it’s being disrespectful to them if you do? How, if you’re at your own home? Many people feel you should do nothing unholy in your house while your parents are there. Me, I don’t agree with that premise either. Again, I’m not going to seek out that type of activity while my family visits me, but if it happens, and I want it, I don’t see the disrespect, it’s my home after all. And how many times have your parents been fuckin in they house when you’re visiting. Especially if they’re married or have a long-term partner. Shit, some even fuck new boyfriends when their children are home if they still live there, there is never a settled word on this to me because everyone is different. We all have different relationships with our family and parents. Different levels of respect contribute to there being so many different perspectives on this topic as well. I honestly believe that we need to agree to disagree on this topic. There will be parts of it that are universally agreed upon. But what defines a home and what makes a home a home is open to interpretation. What do you think?