Into 2012, Loving you still

Happy New Year's everyone. I know I'm days late but damn, a bitch broke outta hospital jail with 34 seconds to spare before i missed the countdown. Cut me some slack.

This past year has been so all over the place. Literally. Emotionally, fundamentally, physically. I've gotten closer to many of you, lost touch with some of you, and gotten to know myself in ways I couldn't imagine. I had a momentary moment of "bitch, FOH"ness, an extended period of "bitchz aint shit", and a continuous long, deep breath of "these hoes are my everything". With that said, i appreciate each of you for many reasons, mainly that you've allowed me to be myself, and let me know when that self was potentially doing the fucking most. You humble me, force me to acknowledge my fuck ups, and keep me from allowing anything smaller than the love you have for me keep me down longer than 37.8 seconds. For that I say, I fucking love yall.

I cant wait to spend another year with you beautiful gems. Special shout out to anyone that let me cry myself to sleep on their shoulder; picked my drunk ass up off the floor; cursed me out for letting random bitchz get under my skin; shook the shit outta me when i almost became an alcoholic those three times back in band camp; confided in me or allowed me to take some of my personal weight off my shoulders; took my advice and thanked me for it; took my advice and blamed the bad outcome on me (lol...i realize now I'm not as mostly perfect as i assumed); showed me the grass is never greener on the other side (sometimes that shit aint even grass....just spray painted astroturf and shit); consistently told me I'm amazing; and, most importantly, allowed me the opportunity to show you how much i love u.

have a great year, ladies. and make sure you vote!

Peace,

Lyrikk

Solitude

this concept of "unconditional" is so fleeting. we dont really mean it. we mean, "I love you as long as u sit in this box I've placed u in. As long as u abide by the rules I've set. I'll love you as long as you love me the way I want you to." Nobody really loves unconditionally anymore, not even me, so understand, I'm not judging. Just stating facts.

It's been awhile since I've written this much. Probably why my ass was half crazy at the bottom of a bottle every night. But not last night. Last night I just cried. I let it come out until it wanted to stop. I convulsed. Sobbed uncontrollably. didnt even blow my nasty ass nose. just let that shit drop on my dress. looked at it like, "damn. a sculture of exactly how I feel." an hour or so later, i felt like I did before. just with a clear head. and dry face. clean dress. in that moment of clarity, i came to terms with something abt myself:

I'm petrified of loneliness. not like, scared a little, just dont wanna be alone. I mean like will do some crazy shit just to be around mofos, jst dont wanna be by myself. call bitchz I dont like and smile all in their face type shit. But not last night. Last night, i just wanted to bask in some solitude for once. and the shit was phenomenal. I got things accomplished. i had more than a moment to think; i had hours. and lawdy lawd, those thoughts...they definitely put some things into perspective.

like for one, I'm not as perfect as I think I am, especially when i feel fucked over or hurt. I can be quite an evil lil bitch. whole time, i kinda knew that in the back of my head but I never thought I would use that against someone I really loved. i always thought that was on reserve for people I didnt really fuck with like that to begin with.

another thing, trust is the absolute most important thing in the world to me. at first I thought it was jst trusting in someone's words. but no. i really need to trust in ur actions too. i need to kno i would never have to worry abt bein hurt physically or emotionally as long as that certain someone is around. that means not questioning your integrity or love for me. trusting that u would never disrespect me, not even for shits and giggles. if i don't trust you, what is the point of ur life? at least with regard to mine.

putting those two things together, i realized ive got to learn to trust in me more. know that i'll make the right decisions for me. always.

when i left, it was because i had to. and if i go back, it'll be because I need to. and if i start something new....well u get the point. as it stands, i dont know what is best for me. for my growth. for my happiness. on the one hand, i have someone that, thru all the nonsense and bullshit, still loves me jst the same. but then theres that nonsense and bullshit. do i really want to deal with that? then i have someone that i can see something amazing blossoming....but there are so many flowers in the field. or so I think but even if there aren't, it feels like thr are. do i wanna deal with that? constantly feeling like one of many?

honestly, the better question is should I deal with either? this whole thing has become so entirely confusing, I feel lost in it all. at least now i can find solace in my solitude. i'm not afraid of making a decision that leaves me curled up with a snake, a book, and a highlighter. I'm absolutely ok with that for once in my life.

i finally understand the different between being with yourself and being by yourself. I'm ok with me. being with me is awesomeness.

Poof!

And sooo. I pressed send afterall. Multiple times. Nothing came of it. Just like I knew it wouldn’t. just like nothing came of us. I spent so much energy trying to understand and be understood that I forgot what the message ever was. Forgot who I was. It’s amazing how I’m the culprit. The woman that went out of her way to make sure you ate and pushed her pride to the side to make sure you could enjoy life is the enemy.

That’s so dope.

I wanna live in that space. Where I did nothing wrong and everything was someone else’s fault. It must be fucking amazing to wake up in the morning and feeling like this was the easiest thing in the world to deal with. I wanna feel THAT shit.

More importantly, I don’t want to feel what it is that I’m feeling. Like a fucking fool that gave too much and received a “you asking for too much” in return. But that’s whats up. Sometimes it just be like that. Right? We get in these situations and they consume our everything until we’ve been fucking gobbled up in a heap of finger pointing and pseudo-confidences in our justifications.

And where am I now? In between putting the pieces back together while starting a new puzzle. The fuck am I thinking?

These bitchz be acting up and I aint in the mood to be the director of a new movie. I’m jst trying to watch a couple previews and see what happens.

What I wont do is watch this movie again. Ever. Note to u bitch: You never made anything easier for me. Don’t kid yourself. This is the worst breakup I’ve ever had. You need to grow up and understand that ignoring things do NOT make them go away.

But ignoring me will make me disappear.

Never again.

two page text message staring back at me. i dont know what to do with myself. sending .... i cant send. it implies entirely too much and could never say enough. it's interesting to be in this space. again. i thought i got past this. but that statement....in all of it's esoteric greatness...it stung. bc i knew exactly what it meant. i knew all along.

screen going blank, i'm left to stare back at my tear-stained face. each drop a reminder: never again.

Friendship remains...

I have such a tendency to do wayyy too much. and this time is no exception. after all this time, the attraction is definitely still there. But, unfortunately, not the longevity. She's about distance and space when I focus solely on closing that gap. i have the capacity to make those sacrifices but not the will nor the desire. These are the reasons I don't date friends. Once you break the seal, it can never go back to what it used to be.

But the question is: Do I even want it to?

Tuesday, December 9th, 2008 (email excerpt)

{damn it's crazy I wrote this almost 3 years ago.....how so many things have changed and practically everything has stayed the same}

I think the problem with most people is that they don't recognize that "real", "gangsta", "boughetto" (pronounced boo-zchet-oh. I've never ever claimed being ghetto.) and "respectable" can co-exist, especially when you set your own standards (like I do) of what it means to be respectable. I believe being respectable starts from and ends with being true to self. If that means I have to slap a bitch, then I will slap a bitch and feel no less or better of a person because of it. If that means I need to write a 35 page dissertation on the commonalities of ancient Kemetic laws and today's inner-city street code of conduct, then I will write that and feel no less or better of a person because of it. The fact of the matter is they are both me, intrinsically entwined. I am living proof. I can go to a gala then change clothes and head to the club seamlessly. Most people like that about me because I'm true to self, not to stereotypes or cliches (as you seem to think). I am multi-faceted and refuse to ignore any parts of me because they may conflict with you (the literal you and the collective you) or what you want to believe to be true. I am always unapologetically me. Furthermore, I've come to recognize that when people only see the bad in your idiosyncrasies, it's because they only see the bad in themselves. So I learned a long time ago never to take it to heart when people don't get me because there are plenty more that love me for who I really am.

PS

I like my dream state. Some flowers are sweet like lollipops, the streams are crystal clear, and the trees hug back when you don't litter. I dreamt my way out the hood, outta high school, to a bachelor's degree, on a cruise, towards a masters, (and now) towards getting published, and plan to continue pretty much through life since it's a tried and true method. I dreamt for each of those things to happen and I'll be damned: they did. I have big dreams. I am invincible in my dreams. I always win in my dreams. I always have it in my dreams because I believe in my dreams. My dreams are not make believe. That's the difference between you and me. Dreaming isn't a state of rest or relaxation for me. It's the place where my ideas and wants transform into goals with detailed plans and haves.

Impending Storms

Walking downhill, the breeze runs past my face, taking with it these never ending thoughts, thoughts racing with no destination. Thinking in circles, swimming in pools of disappointment. Regret. Pain. Mostly pain.

I didn’t think I'd react this way. This eerily familiar calm weaved with random bouts of incoherence. Last night, i let it all out. One roll of tissue & three episodes of hyperventilation later, i felt....free. Like i had burdened myself for so long, holding on to the hurt and misunderstandings. Then there was nothing.

Surely the calm before the storm.

Yesterday's tomorrow.

It all began with this inner struggle. A need. Intense desire to prove that differences can thrive in any environment where compassion is abundant. Where understanding is never-ending.

It continued as growth continued. As learning manifested itself in each situation. Circumstance. Conversation.

It ended abruptly when lack of understanding and non-existent compassion took over, leaving no room for growth. No desire to expand comprehension of anything other than self.

And this is where I am. This void. This vacuous place where my emptiness questions my full blown arrogance.

Thoughts in Staccato (is that how u spell that???)

Comfortable silence initiated, I sit & think of my fears. Wonder if I've overcome them or simply ignored them into invisibility.

Probably the latter.

Nonetheless, I walk fearlessly amongst monsters & demons, escaping their taunts, forgetting their promises. All I need is me. All I've got is you.

I wake most mornings deciphering slumber's cryptic code, never understanding the message until dreamt secrets expose themselves in reality.

Most days I write & don't understand myself. Who I am is slowly slipping away. Who I am becoming is on the horizon.

Ummm abt ur last drink....

U ever been so blown u just couldn't even understand how u got urself n2 the situation that got u there?

4 instance, this bitch is telln me I'm supposed 2 accept how her friend speaks 2 me bc....well, jst bc. Ummmm Dear Bitch, kill yourself. Sincerely, me bitch.

Wtf? No hun. I'm not sure where they do that @ but that's not how we do it over here. Respect is respect sweetheart. If u expect anything less bc of location, read the two aforementioned statements. In order.

But what confuses me is how I got here. How did a conversation of me bn nosy lead 2 me having 2 explain why I should be respected, regardless of whr I rest my head (& pay rent)?

To further things, I'm being told, as an example, that if I disrespect someone in their house, I should b ok w/them disrespecting me. So, the more sober of said conversationalists, I ask, "when did I ever disrespect her?" Instead of answers, I'm approached with .... well, no answers.

I don't disrespect people, in or out of my house. Furthermore, as a Piscean, I understand & accept many people. Most people can't see thru the murky waters of deception but ummm yeah. That shit don't work on me. This river runs deep and I'm just the fish to swim in it. B real w/urself so that others may know the truth. But me.... I dnt care how fake or phoney u r, I'll always know the truth.

My point, as many of them as I have, is, I hate when people try 2 make a point, only by saying, "well, it is what it is & u just have 2 accept it."

No.

No1 ever HAS 2 accept anything. Ever. The sooner we realize this as a people the sooner we can open our minds 2 accept different points of view. For instance, I understand this basic bitch thinks its ok 2 b disrespectful in the confines of her house to people that don't live there. That's fine. But understand the consequences of ur actions honey. I don't bow down 2 anything I can see & bitch ur clearly visible inside & out of ur house.

Get ur shit 2gether. I'm not the 1. In real life tho.

I'm tired of typin abt this shit. Todelou.

Insomnia

It's 2 quiet n here. Or r my thoughts too loud? Crazy. I didn't know anything was on my mind until I couldn't rest.

Sober.

I've been drowning my sorrows in great wine & fun times but I've never been a great swimmer. Hard 2 stay afloat while trying to only kill parts of me.

Priding myself on introspection, I think it's time 2 figure out the cause of these recent nights of insomnia. I would blame it on the alcohol but I haven't got the gal to not take psychological responsibility 4 each & everything I do (or don't 4 that matter).

As of late, I find myself caring less and less abt things I used 2 find so meaningful. Like social status. The acceptance of my peers. My peers acceptance of my choices. Feeling obligated 2 make every1 happy. Hmph, as of late, it's truly been abt me.

Well, it's kinda always been abt me but the point is, now it's all abt me w/out really being @ the expense of others.

For instance, it is 246am. I am not n bed alone. & yet I'm clicking away intensely on this g1, probably disturbing the hell out of my bedmate. Usually, ths conversation would've bn n my head. Then I'd stare into the blankness of the ceiling, only 2 c the nothingness n my head. When I can't write, I can't think.

What was I talkn abt again? Mostly nothing. Honestly. I think I'm just annoyed w/the amount of selfishness I've put up w/n my life & I finally understand why I did it. I don't like it. I would say I lost time but I gained wisdom so I guess it evens out.

I miss crazy nights but wouldn't trade this warm bed for the world. (Totally random....2 any1 that's not me I guess.)

And in rereading this, I'm so full of hypocrisy & contradictions, I sicken myself. Well, not really. I jst noticed it & didn't think I should leave it to any1 else 2 point it out. Great lesson from my man Eminem.

I don't kno what my point was or where this was going or if that place was meaningful. But I needed this obviously bc now I'm ready 2 sleep.

Write or die.

Chris Brown finally gets to do his MJ dance

but meanwhile, who is this chick he is dancing in front of? nooo not the one that was showing us her panties, the other one....i think i might google her face...

honesty box replies

I miss the old days when I (we) were younger too. I often wish 4 those moments of 'chill'....real chill not nosey-ness guised as judgement...seemingly 'adulthood' filled with clear drama. I remembr when I tried 2 roll a white boy with 1 of my closest friends. Bitch we wrapd the papers around a pencil and said we'd pour weed n2 it. Lol. Then anothr time I remembr when I and anothr friend did EVERYTHING 2gethr bc I didn't mnd chilln and neithr did she....man chilln was the shit bak then. I miss it. Nowadays everybodys tryna secure a future or make a point.

Blah. That shit don't mean nothn 4 real. Mostly I jst wish the phoney and fake would melt away and I could jst chill with my people lk I used 2 do. Not caring that theyr straight and I'm gay or that they cheat and I dnt...etc etc etc.

I jst miss trust. Yeah. That's what it is. I miss those days when people said what they meant & I could trust their word.

Bn younger...iono bout that so much now that I've thought it thru. I thnk I miss the trust. I dnt trust any1 these days....literally. I miss when we were younger and I could trust u.

Dead

I start having heart palpitations around 1:30...



... by 2:00 I'm in full cardiac arrest.

I *heart* Tricky

Serendipity

Serendipity taking over,
I think soft thoughts of you,
Breathe moist breathes of you,
Drink moments glistening of you.
I live this prose composed by you
Snuggle into my thoughts,
And breathe you in deep,
Exhale steamy memories
As I drift into deep sleeps.
Wake from sleeps filled with your dreams of me loving you intensely
But my love bursts at reality’s seams intentionally
‘Cuz serendipity has taken me
To places where what you make makes me believe
Kismet must’ve been involved in this ‘we.’
We.
I like the sound of ‘we’
Like the sounds of we getting tangled without the sheets
Or when I stare and hear you breathe
The dew of your words moistening my cheeks
The droplets dance, forming abstract rings
Integrating transitions of you in me

The thought often sends me swirling into a world filled with smiles and wiggles
Kisses and giggles
All brought forth by you and your tickles
Even in your weakest hour, you amaze me
Hollandaise me as you cover me with your love
And though I get drippy and sticky
You continue to feast on my wisdom
You grow when I speak and sometimes I think
Wow, is this really a possibility?
This ‘we’?
What appeared to be an impracticality
Turned out to be this…this…’we’
This divine ‘we’ that I can’t imagine not existing
This serendipity-induced joy-infused mildly-obtuse ‘we’
So supreme, each day, Kheper, I thank thee
For bringing this ‘we’ into being.

Cuz with serendipity taking over,
I think soft thoughts of you,
Breathe moist breathes of you,
Drink moments glistening of you.
And together we’ll live this prose we’ve composed till our pages are full.

Guuuurrrrrrllll!!!!!

Dead.

Coke Lines

Your pain is no excuse.
Disdained and abused,
There is no recuse for my stupidity.
You outwitted me,
Bullshitted me,
Still I stood there
Clean,
Pure,
Unadulterated lust dressed in lover's silk
Wavering gently in your smooth
Coolness.

It's moments like this when I wish I'd never met you.

Look. Your eyes are pissing.

I think back to summer days. Early 90s.

Where is mommy?

Sarafina on the 26 inch, color. Encyclopedia in lap. Sandwich on bed. Thirsty...I'll drink from the bathroom sink; the kitchen sink is harder to reach. Or maybe Sarafina will save me from my thirst. She's my super hero.

Back then, she kept me sane. Kept me focused. If she could take all that, the beatings and killings, this meant nothing. Where she would be slapped, I'd be looked at. Sternly. What kind of coward would I be to cry? There is nothing to cry about. Dead bodies do not surround me. Though gun fire awakens me nightly, it's rarely close enough to do me much harm. (I still slept on the floor many nights, too afraid bullets would grow wings and reach my fifth floor boudoir.)

About 5:15 into this video, I hear life's voice echoing through time. Hinting at my death if I rebelled or thought about fighting back...against poverty, ignorance, commonality, fitting in, cycles of addiction and abuse. How any resistance to its treacherous plan to have me be anything but the greatest, any deviance from the path of crack babies, baby daddies, jagged keloid memories across my face would result in death by failure and disappointment. But Sarafina, she made it clear: there are far worse things than death.





This movie helped raise me. Taught me to be a fighter, to stand up not only for what I believed in, but for what was right. Moreover, it taught me to make sure the two coincided, if not always, often. I am by far no Sarafina, but I refuse to let my transgressors see my eyes piss. I saw how close she was to flat lining when they saw hers.

PS

First one to get me this on DVD gets a prize.

Fear God

Sooooo word on the street is this sexy bitch

















got a baby by this dude























and that's fine....my only problem is, in addition to fearing God, I'mma just need you to be scared of a dude crazy enough to get his freakin eyelids tattooed. this man wanted to get a message out so bad he risked losing his eyesight. i don't know how i feel about that.

then again if u creative enough to think to tattoo your lids, i guess that would explain their naked entanglement. but I digress. the beautiful thing is, even though they weren't happy about the pregnancy, she didn't use abortion as a form of birth control.

they gon raise a baby yall!

Vacate Nonsense's Premises

Woke up this morning, decided today would be better than yesterday. Started this year determined it would be better than last year. Promised myself I would stop making promises. Decided to stay single so I could meet my future wife. Even said I would stop shopping so I could take more trips (for which I would need to shop). But this morning, I decided I was being too controlling of my own life. Speaking to someone from my past of my recent shenanigans, I hear myself turning into a me I worked so hard not to become. I am becoming less mature, more worrisome about nonsense.

I need to vacate nonsense's premises...and I mean that in both the ways you just thought it, or at least should have. I've clearly been on vacation here wayyyy too long. Meditation beckons. I haven't in weeks...ok months...and I know it's not good to starve my soul but I thought it'd be the easiest way to lose weight since my heart's been so heavy lately. I realize now exercising love makes it stronger...makes me stronger.

I'm in this for the long haul. I ain't never been scared to bust a sweat.

*delete*

soooo I'm cleaning out my emails, cuz even though I've transitioned into my new career, it's new. they're tryna go easy on me...anyhoo, I come across this email from this slutbucket .... I'm sorry, this female I used to "date" for lack of a better work. Since I spoke on this issue before, I won't even get myself riled up. it was foolish on my behalf to trust my safety to anyone. Ms. Morrison tells me that all the time. I'm over it. No, I don't forgive her, but I acknowledge how I can only blame myself for allowing someone to have me in a space like that to begin with. Contrary to popular belief, there are some things not worth forgiving. She is one of them.

But you know what really pisses me off (said in Buddi's voice)? When someone apologizes in such a way as to make you realize that they are patronizing you, merely conducting the act of the apology just to appear righteous....when there are double and triple entendres littered through the piece (because clearly this type of apology is an artform of master manipulators) so as to have you question not only the motive of the communication, but the "real" message behind it, that is what really pisses me off.

The audacity of hoes.

This is ooo so typical of this said slutbucket (screw it, she is one). I almost responded viciously and without compassion; instead, I decided to ignore her. Or did I? Sometimes it's hard for me to discern what's even real anymore.

Nonetheless, in this message she mentioned one of two things:

1. She reads my blog. To that I say, "Good for you. My creativity and my ability to completely wipe someone out have nothing to do with each other. The more the merrier. Also, since you're probably reading this, it implies that you did not take my advice in previous communications to kill yourself. Do so immediately. Thank you."

2. She includes this:

ek het jou lief
ana behibek
bung srorlagn oun
mi aime jou
Ik hou van jou
ewedishalehu
je t'aime, je t'adore
ich liebe dich
ti amo
amo-te
333 (roman numerials...that one is tough)
mo ni fe
ndinokuda
seni seviyorum
phom rak khun
ua Here Vau Ia Oe


I dont know what the hell that means. one line in there, possibly two, is french. the rest....got me. The funny thing is I used to care enough to try and figure it out because anything she said was golden. These days I recognize spray paint don't shimmer quite so dull. *delete*

I'm thirsty

For some reason she makes me think of milk and cookies.




I think it's the gloves.....(if you thought of cookies and some apple juice when I said cookies above, please kill yourself immediately. I just did.) I'll drink to that.

Ok I get it

You guys want me to start writing again...I am....I have tons to say. Give me a minute tho...i gotta work first.

I think monkeys are cute....

I have some of my most profound thoughts while pooping. Like my thoughts are metaphorically the shit. I dump out some waste but occasionally there is the unmistakable vital nutrient that I was too busy bullshitting to absorb. For instance, amongst the spam and forwards known as my email box, I came across this picture, shook my head, and proceeded to delete. But taking my evening dump this picture floated across my mind again and I gave myself the evil eye for not paying closer attention.

A Barnes & Noble in Coral Gables, Florida had a display honoring President Obama. In the center of the display? A book titled Monkeys. Surrounding the monkey book were books boasting President Obama and crew's delicious faces.

Sitting there patiently waiting, I silently screamed that I would take this opportunity to fulfill my destiny: to tinkle alllll over the self-help section of a chain bookstore (making sure to miss Suze Orman's Young, Broke, and Fabulous since it clearly has changed my life). But after further research I found that B&N had nothing to do with the scandal…..


Official statement from Barnes & Noble, Inc.:

Barnes & Noble would like to publicly apologize for what happened in our Coral Gables, Florida store. We believe that a customer played a cruel joke and placed an inappropriate title in the front window of our store, where we were featuring books written by or about President Obama. We want to assure our customers that the book placed by someone other than our booksellers was never intended to be included in our display and was removed as soon as we became aware of the situation. We are looking into it and are taking the steps necessary so that it does not happen again. From time to time customers will move titles from one area of the store to another. In this particular case, we do not condone whatever message may have been intended with the placement of this title in our Presidential display. It certainly was not part of our merchandising and we regret that we didn't see the placement of this title immediately.

Mary Ellen Keating, Spokesperson
Barnes & Noble, Inc.


You win this time B&N. But I will be waiting to fulfill my destiny!

Oops...She Lied

So for those of you just as pissed as I am with this alleged season finale, here's the first in a string of desperate attempts to keep us guessing on who killed Jenny. Instead of just telling us, we must endure these short clips of interrogations. Tina's up first.

1 is the magic number

although ive been single now 4 several months, im only 2 months into this "single for 09" thing.i kinda like it.i never understood b4 y people would choose 2 b single when thr are so many lovely ladies deserving of good loving. it wasnt until today that i realized i was wrong. most of them dont deserve good loving, at least not from me. in the psychotic way they feel they own me and can dictate my actions i should see that they are undeserving. the annoying tone they use when they question my whereabouts and need minute by minute details of my gps coordinates puts it all out on the table: u dont want me 2 love u. u want to dictate the way i show my love. its these brief moments in my life where i feel that i kno every answer 2 every question i havent even asked yet.

dumpin u

sometimes, to help myself sleep at night, I think of you. the way u used to make me feel. the way i hope u still do. i think about all the things that we said. all the beliefs we thought we shared. all the kissing. reminiscing. the cute way you looked at me when u spoiled me. i think of the beautiful energy we created and how it became this putrid love affair. how seeing u makes me dizzy and forces bile from my soul. how much u disgust me with ur sheer existence. i think of the masses that are completely misguided and blinded by ur manipulative rhetoric. i think of how until 5 seconds ago i'd almost completely forgotten that u existed until i sat here on this toilet and this one little piece of shit jst would not come out no matter how hard i pushed. u r that piece of shit taunting me. but i have a fleet. i always win.

I wish 'I love you' said it all

It’s funny how you cant find the words and someone else says them for you.




Meanwhile, she makes me wanna get ready for the beach. First, I'll need every last thread of swimwear in this video.

Career Choice

So I've been contemplating what career choice I should make. Not where I should work next. Not who's gonna pay me next. But what career I want to spend the next 20 to 40 years doing. What job I will find the most fulfilling. And I came up with writing.




But between now and the New York Times Best Sellers List, I would be honored
to teach the next generation of poets, rappers, scholars, and video vixens.

No but really...

I know I talk trash about shawty looking a lil brighter than black but I REALLY DID think she was some random white chick singing country last night. The volume was on mute and my legs were....ummm I mean I was a little preoccupied at the moment so I just happened to glance over while I was changing....where I was sitting and ahhhhraahhhhh yeah.

But she doesn't look all that light in this pic tho. I'm on the hunt to find something brighter. Meanwhile, from the lil tidbit I heard on the news this morning, she sounded pretty damn amazing.

No, I will not comment on Aretha. She's a legend. R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

Just a little more randomosity via Shamblesville.

Love in Limbo

The thing about newness is it's hard to stay new
Hard to stay fresh without looking used
Hard to stay me and add pieces of you
Hard to glow purple without some blues


I think my biggest fear isn't myself anymore. It's commitment, devotion, trusting that someone will do for me what I'd do for them. Going through all the motions just to find that the actions, feelings, thoughts, words, desires, needs weren't reciprocated. It's like this intense urge to know everything knowing full well that it's impossible. Wish I could fast forward into those 20 years and see what we've become. Impossible. So instead I just press play with half speed.

Right now, I am not following my heart. Or my pussy. I'm listening to personality #1, the rational chick. Ms. Know-it-all. She's even digging you with optimistically cautious open arms. But what does that mean??? Do I just let life be? Do what I want and say what I mean? No is her response because it's too soon. Then #2, the lover, chimes in and explains that matters of the heart have no sense of time.

Not falling in love with you is becoming a struggle I don't want to fight anymore.

25 Depictions of Lyrikk's Randomosity via Shamblesville

Taken from facebook.........
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1. My ultimate goal is to write non-fiction articles and books about my life since I'm so interesting. I think other people would relate. People like to feel like they aren't the only one so I think it'll work out.

2. My non superficial biggest fear is to wake up and realize that all the people I thought loved me never really gave a damn. Superficially, I'm afraid of being excessively fat.

3. I like to write because I can be honest and people call it art (when I speak honestly people call me a mean asshole).

4. I think people who have anal sex are cool.

5. I am secretly in love with all my friends in a (mostly) non-sexual way. I admire each of them for something different and sometimes wish I could live in their head for an hour a year and write down their thoughts.

6. I was very shy growing up. To overcome this shyness I imagine I have sex with every female I meet. So that's not real confidence or cocky-tude you see when I speak. It's me thinking I've just given you the best orgasm of your life. And I think you sharted.

7. I am extremely paranoid.

8. I have a very bright clock in my bedroom because I am afraid of the dark.

9. I hate spending my own money.

10. James Baldwin is my hero. In addition to be very literary, he cursed in his writing and still got props. I'm working towards that. My goal is to write so well that when I say 'shit' you'll find it quite possibly so realistically like me (poignant yet still gangsta) that you'll hear my voice as you read.

11. I think middle class people are mildly retarded....mostly. And wealthy people are brain dead....completely. This is only in regards to reality and life.

12. I have key phrases that include, but are not limited to, 'meanwhile', 'in real life tho', 'ooo chile', 'guuurrrrrl', 'kill yaself', 'can we talk about it?', and 'take 2 shots of bleach and go to sleep. If u still wake up n the mornn then bitch just kill yaself'.

13. Number 12 is 1 of many reasons why (& yes I have been sayin this for the last 5 or 6 years but it hasn't happened yet so I will repeat it) a video camera should follow me and my friends around. Famous people always have catch-phrases that people can repeat and put on t-shirts. Club night minimum is 3 cameras. (From all angles right jess???)

14. I dance in mirrors 2 escape. For further explanation, please see lyrikksnotes.blogspot.com (shameless plug 1). I also secretly wanna be a personal stripper for some rich black dudes wife.

15. I blog because I secretly want to be famous for my sense of humor and eloquent rhetoric. For further explanation, please see lyrikksnotes.blogspot.com (shameless plug 2).

16. I just found out today that Ana is a copy editor and I secretly hate her for it (I love editing!).

17. 'Secretly' is on the list of "Lyrikk's Catch-phrases".

18. I am easily pleased. All you have to do is everything I want. And, yes, I am very spoiled. I pout and whine (not exactly in that order) and my biggest pet peeve is when people want to spoil me but fight the urge just to try to break my whining and pouting. O, and people that tap me annoy me, too.

19. Small things, like getting me juice after sex, make me feel special.

20. I have such vivid dreams that I find it hard sometimes to tell whether something really happened in real life or not.

21. I hate when people have the wrong impression about who I am based on one situation or what they heard about me. If you really wanna kno, experience me in the raw

22. I believe in reincarnation. Probably because I feel like I'm too important to only live once. Plus I've got a lot to learn. This lifetime's lesson: how love, honesty, and integrity effect everything.

23. I believe masturbation is essential to self-love.

24. I lack will power when I am bored or drunk.

25. I love people. The more unlike me, the better.

Hi. My name is Lyrikk and I dance in mirrors.

This is where I escape the hers and the shes, the lies and the lust. This is where I go to get away from my own morbid reality of hysteria and confusion. So when u see me dancing in the mirror ogling myself, it’s not via conceit or arrogance or annoyance at watching you have all the fun sweating away to the new bullshit labeled music. It’s me imagining I’m someplace warmer, brighter, quieter, or just other than here.

The mirror is my escape from everything and everyone.

The swivel of my hips become the hypnotizing ride to Noplace Land, where I rule on high and you simple plebeians cower in my shadow (or perhaps we laugh and rejoice together. Depends on my mood). Where the hers aren’t jealous of the shes and the lies make the lust that much sweatier.

When you see me tilt my head just so I can look at my own ass jiggle, it’s not because I’m vain or cocky or because you can’t shake yours like me. It’s me imagining that those waves are gonna wash over my face at any moment and rinse away my makeup. And the salt stinging the corners of my eyes aren’t from beads of sweat but from years of pure water smashing into rocks, creating the perfect mix for a gentle emollient.

Yes, when you see me in the club sweetie just know that I’m not there to steal your girl or make you hate me or to hate on you or to dance for an audience or to meet new hers or to entice all the shes. I’m there on vacation from my home in Le Shamblesville and I’d appreciate it if you gave me fifty feet.

And yes bitch.

I will measure it.

And so, it is written.

So for the last 14 days I've told myself that I'm going to post a blog. Going to post a blog. Going to post a blog. And yet, all I did was post a video. A funny video at that. Nothing thought provoking. Nothing to evoke emotion. And so, here I am now finally upholding my end of the bargain. Though I have been cursed out via text, email, phone call, and face slap (in real life tho), nothing has pushed me over the edge to write anything.

Until last night.

I got a voicemail, a voicemail I will not transcribe but will, however, explain the effects of in great detail. In this voicemail, raw news played its music for me. Things I’ve heard before but never listened/danced to for their lack of rhythm (since they were so encapsulated in anger and hate). But these words were born from the love for me one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met (at least loyal to me) has. She explained how my selfish behavior was beginning to take a toll on not only our relationship with each other but on my ability to stay constantly aware of the effects of my actions on this lifetime.

I believe this lifetime is to teach me the importance of love, honesty, integrity, and loyalty. How each of those things entwine to create a perfect love free of inhibition and full of trust. I had that love once but it is no more. Slowly dissipated because of life's trivialities. But I still believe it’s possible to love like that again. And that’s when I realized why I haven’t been writing. I am lacking a truly deep love. The kind of love that pushes you to do things you thought ladies didn’t do. The kind that has you up at 2 am in the morning crying laughing even though there’s no music, no sex, and just you and her (and neither of you really understand what the hell is so funny). The kind where attitudes last for five minutes and are quickly followed by both sides apologizing and somehow turning that sweet, gentle hug into four hours of pleasure, just in time to get ready for work.

This epiphany helped me realize just how much of my life I’m wasting right now. Party time is over. I don’t wanna play these games anymore. I’ve said it then and I’ll say it once more. I am ready.



PS.

Happy New Year. Nine has always been my favorite number. “The number 9 relating to a balanced numerological personality or cyclical timing energy is most often associated with tolerance, generosity, forgiveness, passion, creative energy, success, romance, benevolence, and a deep love of life. Nine energy flows like water and is reflective of universal love.” Get into it.