Real Eyes Realize Real Lies

Infinite. Ever expanding. Universal. Encyclopedic. All encompassing. All enveloping. Fearless. Individual. Non-conforming. Elegant. Regal. Royal. I AM BLACK. And u wanna confine me, my history, my legacy to 28 days?!

Looking in my baby girl eyes. I won’t let you do it.

maldita *******

now?? wow.

i guess timing IS everything. my buddy told me - the right person at the wrong time is just as detrimental as the wrong person anytime, period.
apparently thats been going around on some ‘positive vibe’ email or text message mumbo jumbo.
you can’t make some shit up. all i can do is sit back and laugh.

anyway

Jermajesty. Jermajesty?! Really? That’s on someone’s birth certificate? And this nigga aint even the craziest one in the family.

Monday (noun): one who feels hatred for, fosters harmful designs against, or engages in antagonistic activities against another; an adversary or opponent.

Me (noun): one who gets the better of in a struggle or conflict; conquerer (more than); the one who defeats: overcomer of the enemy.

I used to despise Monday mornings. Now I’ve figured out how to kicks Monday in the behind and I’m lovin it (no mickey d).

alot of time to think over this weekend. homecoming was off the chain. lots of catching up with old friends and family. got into with my cuz though abt the pimptress. he said you know urself…cheatin lying ass woman you just leave. but a cheatin lying ass wife = court case and niggas in ICU. be glad she didn’t marry u especially under these circumstances. thank God she told u now u know and went the route she did. i neva looked at it that way. i’m actually smiling.

what type of people is this? biblical type cruelty. truly souless, heartless, unforgiving, incorrigible. a people that just takes w/o giving, takes whats not theirs. i need to disassociate myself as difficult as its going to be. i need to go back to square one. where it all started. begin anew. return. rebuild. reinvent. re-educate. i’ve learned so much but applied nothing. what then is the point? i’ve got to find myself. i’m starting now. GO.

and those are just the ones i saved and opened.
cleared out my inbox today. damn aol saves email forever, i must have a setting somewhere to correct this. hilarious emails though, 116 emails from this chick in the past 6years stating how i’m the only one for her. no other man blaise blah blah effin blah. had to go thru that shit and delete them. i’m not gonna use aol as my main email anymore its too suspect to spam. i get more junk email than a lil bit.
anyway vacay is great. lots of relaxation, prep for tonight/thursday. practiced yesterday. havent pack a thing for the weekend. a&t’s homecoming gonna be the bomb. just what the doctor ordered (quite literally) stressfree, enjoyment, family/friends. i don’t even remember how to post pics on this page its been so darn long. but i’m sure i’m gonna take pics and get them up here someway somehow.

seksi:
being is seksi
laying in your lap is seksi
falling asleep insdie you, waking up and taking you there again is seksi
warm thighs and cool breezes are seksi
trust:
with trust, imagination is the leader and enthusiasm is its partner

as much as i’d like to take credit for these thoughts i can’t. miss nicki (our vocalist) and i came up with this years ago. i didn’t realize i still had this inside me all this time.
its funny. the battery in my watch died today. almost 3months to the day. ironic. i get more compliments on the damn watch than anything else. the other night at rons open mic a nigga came up to me i thought he wanted to talk drums, he talking about where did i get the watch from. lmao. all this to say…. i’ve purged. i’m happy. ur happy. and as far as you: long hair don’t care… miss you like cook food. communication would have made shit alot easier. maybe you told me and i just didn’t hear it. you did say i wasnt much of a talker. and i’m not. i’m an observer. so much so i often read too much into shit. but hey it is what it is. 4 shows last 2 weeks. you still haven’t seen me play. miss importante.

My prayer to the Most High
Lord please send me my very own big thigh, cutie pie
My chinkee eye, who’ll never ever lie
My sweet potato pie, my lullaby
My spanish fly ally
My tie-dye, she makes me high I can’t deny
My good to me like pastrami on rye, hurts when I say goodbye
Oxygen supply, first kiss like back in junior high
My baby on who I’ll rely, have me cuming like the fourth of july
She comes with the real, no relaxers no lye
If she sees the last nigga in the street she tells him to just “walk on by…”
Got me so I can’t leave her even if I tried
Looking for traces of her when she’s gone like Ghetto C.S.I.

All this and more is what I’ve been waiting for…

Cuando el alma llora, el silencio no es remedio para calmar el sufrir.
i think i’m ready to write again. it’s time. purging and good therapy for myself.
pretty sure i’ve lived it