Saturday, June 21, 2008

**What Kinda Mess?** Soulja Boy V.S. Ice T?

Ice T doesn't seem to like the Teen Of The South too much...

Soulja Boy Responds

hahahahaha...okay, matter how ignorant it may have been, I laughed. Soulja Boy is
He seemed tog et more serious at the end of his video...if he kept it that way from the beginning, I think he would have made Ice T look so stupid.
But oh well, you can't go back in time!
I respect Soulja Boy- many may ask why...
To come from nothing, and grind your way to everything- that's respectable.
Soulja Boy didn't destroy hip hop, he just gave the people what they wanted.
If nobody was buying his music, he wouldn't be as big as he is!!
Let that marinate...

P.S. Lmao at Arab looking so sad in the background...

Ice T was quick to respond, loading up another video

"I'm caked out...JACK!"
LMAOOOOO with his throwback Iverson Jersey!
Knowing he got that mess from ROSS...
What kinda immature, bored ass man?!
You do realize that Jay no longer responds to people...
Nas doesn't...
I guess the kings can just laugh things off, but the insecure, bored ass men just have to respond...
and respond again...
and add to it...
then add some more...lmao
"Watch the youtubes, watch the blogs, the shit is gonna go down!"

Kanye actually heard about the 'beef', and wrote about it on his blog!
This is what Kanye has to say about the issue:
"Soulja boy is fresh ass hell and is actually the true meaning of what hip hop is sposed to be. He came from the hood, made his own beats, made up a new saying, new sound and a new dance with one song. He had all of America rapping this summer. If that ain’t Hip Hop then what is? A bunch of wannabe keep it real rappers that ain’t even relevant, recycling samples trying to act like it’s 96 again and all they do is hate on new shit? Niggas always talk about the golden age but for a 13 year old kid, this is the golden age!!! That song was so dope cause everything he said had a hidden meaning… that’s Nas level shit… he just put it over some steel drums which is also some Nas shit if you had the 2nd album cassette with the bonus track “Silent Murder” on it. In closing… new niggas get ya money$$$$$$$$$$ Keep this shit fresh and original…. ain’t no fuckin’ rules to this shit and that’s what real hip hop is to me."

Peace & Blessings

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Watch Yourself!

Peep this...

Ladies and Gentlemen...
We're not invincible!
once you get there...there's no turning back...there's no cure...once you're there, you're there.
And you don't want to be...
In the world we live in, we glorify sex...
Love sex- shoot, I LOVE sex...
but all I'm asking it...wrap it up.

This is real...
T-pain I Got It
T-Pain Suicide

Take this message to the heart...please.

Peace & Blessings

Monday, June 16, 2008

Happy Father's Day!!

Father's Day.
The day celebrated all over the US, as well as beyond us.
A special day out of 365 to recognize fathers all over the world; a day used to make them feel appreciated for what they've done, and what they do.
People always say that Mother's Day kills Father's Day as far as gifts and hype, but besides that- the appreciation is usually equivalent.
I'd like to take out this time now to recognize and applaud all the fathers in the world who have stayed around, and taken care of responsibility,
-all the step-fathers who have stepped in and closed the door that the original fathers left wide open,
-all the mentors and other men who try to step in and lead by example to get our young on the right track, without persuing a relationship with the mother,
-and all the mothers who have to be both mother and father for theirs sons and daughters. I don’t know how hard that is, but I have an idea. My mother’s single with three children. I see her struggle. I appreciate her for it.

In church on Father’s Day, all the fathers in the building were asked to come down to the alter to be recognized. Sadly, because I attend an African American church, I didn’t expect the turn out to be so large. Fifty five, or sixty men walked to the altar for prayer, and I tipped my hat to every last one.
Because for fathers- or daddies, per say, I’m an aficionado.
I respect the men who take responsibility for their actions and don’t try to make excuse after excuse to get away from what they’re supposed to do. The men that realize that once their sperm hits the egg like a ball hits a bat and fertilization starts, the previous game is over. It’s time to get serious, and step to the plate and play for the future.
It’s time to be on you’re A-game.
Your life is changed.
You’re in the Big Leagues now.
I praise the men who stay around and play intil the came is over, not until they get tired, or only when it's convenient for them. They practice, and train, and try to be the best father they could ever be.
Fat shout and much respect to the MVFs...Most Valuable Fathers.

Check this video out to see how some celebrities still seem to have time to take care of their own.

But what exactly is a father?
Well, (my favorite, and only dictionary) defines a father as:

1. a male parent.
2. a father-in-law, stepfather, or adoptive father.
3. a man who exercises paternal care over other persons; paternal protector or provider: a father to the poor.

Being a father is a full time job with no pay except happiness and the feeling of being contented as you see your child grow from a small seed to a huge tree.

Well since we know what a father is, what is not a father?
Or what is a father not?

A father is not abusive...mentally, spiritually, or physically.
A father is not absent...I had a step-father in the house for years, but I can honestly say he wasn't present while he was around. We hardly talked, and when we did speak to each other, it was an arguement- not a conversation.
A father is not part-time...being a Father is a full time job. You don't appear, then disappear when it's convenient for you. If you 'send money', you don't send what you think you can afford. You send what the baby needs- period. You must be selfless. You no longer have 'me time'. The time is for'us'.
A father is not a workaholic...I promise your child would rather an outing with you rather than a new car, an appearance at their sports games rather than a new game system, compassion and love rather than money and gifts. Realize that's top priority in life, and apply it to yours. They don't just give present, but they also present a role model for their children- themselves. *Watch Click. It'll change your life.*
A father is not a friend...Or at least not only a friend. A father is there to talk to you to better you, not just gossip. Someone you can come to to talk to, but accept advice as well. A father should have authority. A father should be commander. Not extremely passive.
A father is not shouldn't have to force a child to do something, and make ultimatums. You shouldn't have to threaten your children all the time. Their actions should be instilled into them from witness of the way you act, and the way you make them respect you. You can't force someone to respect you, that just creates fear, which leads to hate. Yes, even as a parent, respect needs to be earned.

Alot of readers may say 'Whatever, Lucius. You don't know what you're talking about. You've never been in the position to be a father, so you don't know how hard it is!'

Know what, you may be right!
I don't know how hard it is to be a father, but I know how hard it is to be without one! So I told myself and my mother what I would never, ever put a child through what I've been through. I'd never, ever put my child's mother through what my mother worked through! Ever! Yes, it may be hard, but life isn't all about things being easy as pie. Sometimes, no- alot of the time, you have to work, hustle, just because it may be easier to walk away, doesn't mean you should.
Impregnating a lady shouldn't change your if you'd turn your back on a child then, you'd turn your back on alot of things before.

There is a pandemic spreading- Fatherless Families, and it needs to be stopped.
It takes more than sperm to be called a father, or a daddy.
Without the responsibility, you're simply a donor.

I would like to take this time to shout out, and deliver much disrespect to the storks- the boys who just drop babies everywhere and then *poof* disappear.
I despise, and step over you...with all DUE respect.

I’m so sick of hearing my young sisters crying and tripping over their baby daddy drama, because there shouldn't be any. Hell yeah- it’s hard, but do you really expect her to do it alone? Is being alone supposed to make things easier for her? Is this why you leave? Is this why you turn your back on a child- God's gift to you?
Are you not supposed to walk with your children, and not away from them?
These donors not only abandon their responsibilities, but they abandon their child(ren), as well as the co-maker of their kids.
Children are special- your child could only be made once- only by you
Yet, you'll give up on something so special?
Yet, you seem to be completely comfortable with ignoring a miracle?
This was God's gift to you, and you don't want it? Is it not in style for you?
Storks, a child isn't the sweater grandma gave you on Christmas that you smiled about right before stuffing it in the drawer never to be seen again.

This is a child. Pushing your responsibilities in a drawer won't make them disappear.
Why would you depart and leave the door wide open? Aren’t fathers supposed to be protectors, providers? S tork could never be a father, because they leave the family unbalanced, unstable, and vulnerable to anything- due to them leaving the door open, leaving a void for anyone to come around and fill.

How many more of our children will have to cry out?
How many more of our youth will have to be imprisoned due to the lack of discipline- due to the lack of a father figure?
Where are the fathers in this world?
Where have you been?

"Fuck you very much, you showed me the worst kind of pain
But I’m stronger, and trust me- I will never hurt again
Will never ask mommy ‘why daddy don’t love me?’
'Why’s we so poor?', 'Why’s life so ugly?'
'Mommy, why’s your eyes puffy?'
'Please don’t cry, everything will be alright...
I know it’s dark now, but we gon see the light...
It’s us against the world, we don’t need him right?'
-- Jay Z (Where have you been?)

Check out how Obama, my president, speaks of fatherhood in this speech he did on Father's Day.

Obama bluntly says
"Any fool can have a child. That doesn't make you a father. It's the courage to raise a child that makes you a father."

When we lay with a woman, we need to make sure that the woman we lay with is one we would love to spend the rest of our life with. It should already be like that, because your body shouldn’t be spread around to Jen, Shari, and Terrifa just for some pleasure. Sex without feeling is violence.
Sperm shouldn’t be spread to just anyone. Would you seriously just let anyone have your child? It's the same as asking if you'd let just anyone have sex with you.
Is there any standard anymore to whom we have sex with, whom we share our internal fluids with? Whom we enter, or allow to enter?
Or is it seriously just about pleasure these days?
Hey, mistakes happen- so be sure that you're willing to live with it if it does.
These storks act like it’s a form of duress when the child’s mother tries to get you to take care of her kid- not even her, just the child YOU helped bring into this world; yet when you were enjoying the sex, fear of commitment or pressure weren’t in your vocabulary then.
The subtle irony.
Why fail a child, due to your frailties? Is it the child’s fault that you didn’t wear a contom? Is it the child’s fault that you were careless for a night, or two? Is it the child's fault that you weren't thinking about your future years during that mere minute of orgasm?
If not, why must the child live with the reapings for the rest of it's life?
Why must it live to think of itself as a mistake?
Why must he wonder why daddy doesn't want him?

"Better wear a latex, cuz you don't want that late text, that 'I think I'm late' text..." -- Lil Wayne (Lolipop remix)

I’m not trying to chastise all you who try to shirt responsibility. I’m just stating my opinion, and praying that instead of getting mad, you read this and try to make a change. It’s not too late. It’s never too late. I spent 18 years waiting for my pops to come back. Waiting for him to at least call me, at least send a letter.
At least pick up the phone and give me one conversation...
18 years.
But all I got from him was his name.

Don’t look at this as a rampant ranting, but look at it as a scolding, a schooling. This issue is too nasty to be approached nicely, so I keep it funky.
Be a man. Take responsibility.

Walk with your sons and daughters, not away from them.

Peace & Blessings

Sunday, June 15, 2008


As I opened my eyes this morning, I realized that things could be very different.
I could be in the hospital- if I were lucky, or maybe even in the funeral home.
Maybe the morgue…
I could have been anywhere except the soft bed that I was currently resting in. I took a deep breath as I got up to turn the alarm clock off.
Inevitably, I started to think about what happened the day before...

I was trying to race back home to get changed into the new clothes I’d just bought, yet I seemed to hit every red light along the way.
It was like a tease- green, and then as soon as I get close- yet too far to speed up it’d turn yellow, then of course red.
I’d be speeding, then stop.
Speeding, then stop.
No momentum, no stamina, and I was getting tired of it.
I blew out hot air as the red lights continued, all the way to my house, and I wondered if the weekend could get any worse.
I’d already lost 140 dollars for nothing, went to a club all the way in bubble**** and didn't have a good time, then had a hard time shopping today. (Hard Knock Life, huh? lol...jk)
Also, I was already later than I should be, yet earlier than expected…so I was in an okay place. At least I had hope.
I finally got home after following the slowest driver in Alpharetta, Georgia.
I showered earlier in the day, so all I had to do was figure out what to wear- Ed Hardy shirt and True Religion Jeans- light blue, or dark blue, or American Eagle Jeans? Black square toes- leather or patent leather, Pumas (eugh!), pale Timberlands, or Polo Skippies…
I was getting frustrated, because I didn’t know WHAT to wear to the concert. I wanted to look good, you know?
Finally, I just slipped on what looked best, and hit the road. I refused to be late, because I told myself that I’d be at this concert when the lights shut of declaring the start of the show. I’d never been to a concert on time, and I hated missing good acts; or any acts at all.
I jumped into my car- the Black Pearl, ejected the Carter 3, and put in a Fabolous mixtape.
As I reversed out of my driveway, I heard the thunder...
The sky was threatening to release it's bowels on me all day long, and I hoped that it just kept threatening. I hated driving in the rain, especially when I needed new tires and windshield wipers- ASAP.
I headed to the highway, and the rain started to pour. My windows were rolled down, because I loved to ride with my hand out the window feeling the breeze enter, swirl around, then exit my vehicle.
It made me feel like I was flying.
It made me feel free.
I rolled up the window to keep the rain out.
I could see without the windshield wipers, and I felt that turning them on would do nothing but make my vision worse, so I kept them off
- until I got off my exit.
That’s when the rain started to pour harder to the point I couldn’t see anything.
It made things a little better, but there certainly wasn’t a drastic change. It was still a struggle to get a clear view of the road.
Angie, a good friend of mine, called me to see if I was at work so she could come see me. I visited her and her son (my 'nephew') the night before, and I was anticipating getting as close as we were in the past. Our relationship wasn’t as strong after she left the school.
I told her I wasn’t at work, and that I’d call her back later because I was headed to my best friend’s apartment on the highway in the rain and I couldn’t see ANYTHING.
I wondered why it would start to rain as soon as I started to drive.
I wondered if the weekend could get any worse.
She asked me why the hell I was still on the phone when I was driving in the rain, and I laughed. She told me to enjoy my night and drive safe.
“Of course,” was my answer.
I hung up the phone and turned the music up.
“You know I come from the bottom, but I stay on the top
You might need a ladder, shorty- cuz I’m way on the top
That’s right, I’m rich and I’m young like it say on my top
And you could ask my bottom chick- bet she say I’m on top…”
I became my favorite rapper as I passed exit 9, heading to Atlantic Station. I was excited. I was finally on my way to the concert after such a crazy weekend- headed to see T.I, The Dream, and Shawty Lo.
All the other performances were so whatever to me.
I'd been waiting for this for weeks.
I changed lanes until I got to the fast lane- the lane all the way to the left of the highway.
I drove the speed limit because I didn’t want to crash into another car by not being able to slam on my brakes if I needed to. The rain was pouring so hard I couldn’t see anything but the car in front of me. I followed, but not too closely. I was going 60…65…63...not too fast in my book.
All of a sudden the car jerked to the right
- then went right back to where it was.
I turned my radio down and gripped the wheel tighter.
A couple miles down, the car did the same thing.
I fell back, slowed down even more to 50…55…I was used to hydroplaning a little bit when it rained, so it wasn’t too terrifying. You lose a second of control, and you get it right back. Whatever, right?
I continued to drive, nodding my head to the beat, smiling an arrogant smile at Fab’s cocky lyrics.
What happened next…changed my life.
I’m getting chills as I write this.
I was still following the car in front of me at about 55 when the car jerked again- but this time it didn’t jerk and shoot right back to where it was.
The car seemed to be pushed fron the left, and pulled to the right. It kept going as if somebody turned my wheel all the way to the right as if they were trying to make a sharp turn.
The only problem with that was- I wasn't trying to make a sharp turn.
The steering wheel was actually straight.
The car started to spin…
…and spin…
...on the highway.
I stomped on the brakes hoping the car would stop, but they wouldn't even press down. The car refused to do what I wanted it to do, didn't obey what I tried to make it do...
It refused to stop.
I couldn’t even scream as my life slowed down, yet sped up as the Black Pearl spun on the highway-all the way from the left to the right side of the highway.
I spun around completely- twice or three times as cars whizzed by and seemed to maneuver around me.
I knew an oncoming car would hit me. I knew it.
I knew I would die. I knew it. And I accepted it, feeling that when it’s your time to go…it is.
I knew I’d get a couple bruises, maybe scars, maybe even a concussion- if I even survived.
I knew the car would flip a couple times.
I knew it.
But it didn’t.
As I spun like a top and neared the ditch on the other side of the highway, I braced myself for anything that was about to happen. I grabbed what I could and held on for dear life.
The car continued to spin…
Then it went airborne…and finally came to a rest in a ditch right beside a small canal.
The car stopped shaking, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t say anything, think anything…
I just shook.
Shock overwhelmed me, and I could do nothing but sit there and shake.
Suddenly, a million thoughts flooded my mind at once.
What just happened?
Am I okay?
Is the car going to blow up?
Why are people still driving?
Is my car damaged?
Can I get out?
I didn't want to get out...I was scared to get out.
Should I try to move the car?
Will turning the ignition spark a flame and make the car explode?
I sat there for about five minutes, and shook.
I felt the need to cry, but I couldn't. Like the car, my body refused to do what I wanted it to do, or what it was supposed to do.
I called a very close friend of mine, because she was one of the last people I talked to, and the first person I thought to call- yet I couldn't get a word out as I heard her calling out "hello...hello..."
Finally I got out a "hey..."
She asked what was wrong. She knew me, so I knew she could hear it in my voice.
I told her what happened, and she told me that she'd love to be there for emotional support, but I should call someone who can actually be of assistance.
She was hours away from me...
I hung up the phone and thought to call my mother, but I didn't have her number stored in my new phone- and I left the old phone at home.
I had no idea what to do...
I called my best friend and woke him from his nap.
He thought I was joking at first until I broke it down for him and told him exactly what happened...then he was on his way
-as a best friend or brother should, no questions asked.
As if summoned by God, no- summoned by God, my mother called.
I missed the call and called her back, but she didn't pick up.
I tried again.
"Hello?" She answered.
"H- hey, mom..." I responded. I had no idea what to say.
"I figured you'd be on the way to the concert by now!" She sounded happy on the other line, pleased that she was able to get the tickets for me and put another smile on my face. My mother lived for her children. I love her to death.
I ignored her excitement.
"Mom, I have bad news..." I told her about what happened, and she was on her way.
I decided to see if there was any damage to the car itself because thanks to God's grace, I didn't have a scratch.
As I got out of the car, I realized that I missed a huge pole and a wall only by a few yards, and I stopped short just a few yards before some trees, and unstable earth.
Meaning that if I would have started spinning a second before, I would have hit the wall, or the pole- if not any cars. The pole wouldn’t be going anywhere- definitely. But I would…
Or, if I just had a little bit more speed and momentum I would've flew off of the shoulder and probably flipped…right into the Marta station that was behind me.
My vehicle stopped in the middle of death…and death.
Right in the middle of danger...and terror.
There was no longer a strong storm's rain- there was a light drizzle.
I wondered why the rain would stop right after my accident.
You can’t question God…

The tow truck came quicker than expected, and the police actually never showed up even though they were called.
Three times.
Goes to show you how awesome they are, how dependable.
When he took a look at the car's position, he asked "How'd you manage to do that?"
The same thing my best friend asked.
I told him I didn't know, that's just what happened; how things ended up.
He paused and shook his head. He explained how the car would usually flip or something, but in this instance there was nothing. Alot of underbody damage, but none on top...none to me.
"You're lucky." He said. "You're blessed."
I honestly don't believe in luck...I think God blesses people. Which is why I wish people peace and blessings, not good luck.

My mother said that when he dropped the car off at the house, he had a solemn look on his face the whole time. As he walked back to his tow truck, he looked at my mother and said "That boy was blesssed."
I believe so too.

As my mother and the family drove home from church today, I noticed her slow driving- below the speed limit. I would usually get mad and complain, but I realized that there are much more things to be worried about in life other than my mother driving five miles below the limit. I should be happy to be alive, and rejoicing over every breath I'm allowed to take-whether it be while talking to a friend, or driving slow with my mother. Be happy and rejoice everytime you step out of bed.
Every time you look into the mirror.
Every time you count your ten fingers.
Every time you walk.
Every time you breath.
Every time you get dressed.
You're blessed, I'm blessed- we're all blessed in our own ways...
Count your blessings...don't let them pass you by.
This accident was a real eye opener...things could have went very differently- but God knew it wasn't time...not yet.

Today I realized SOMETHING:
I was put on this earth for something- to be something, to do something, to fulfill something...It’s only for something I’m here. So I’ll do anything, no I mean- I’ll do everything to prevent nothing to keep me from something.

My people, if you haven’t heard from me, please don’t take it personally….I haven’t called anyone- not even my family. If people know, it’s from word of mouth, or they were randomly picked to be told…somehow. I’m shaken, I’m thinking, I’m evaluating, I’m praising…because
"I could have been dead sleeping in my grave
But God blessed me to see another day…
Even when I did wrong, he was still there…
I’m so glad that god still hears a sinner prayer..."

Please don't think I wrote this to try to milk all the attention I can get, or to make people feel sorry for me. No. I actually didn't think it was that big of a deal until it all started to sink in, and others explained it to me. I wrote this because I wanted to open your eyes. You never know what could happen, or what can happen. You never know.
I should have died yesterday...I didn't.
Miracles can't be explained, because you can't question God.
Take your blessings without question.

The skid marks

The spin marks

My car's conclusion

If I would have just went a few feet backward......


The front left tire...Don't know when that happened

The hub...

Peace & Blessings


Friday, June 13, 2008

Greg Street Presents "Good Day"

I'm proud of Greg, and the Nappy Roots...
they're doing something positive without being too corny of cheesy...
I hope to see more things like this...something positive.
Do we have to hear negativity ALL the time?
Can't we just have a good day?

Peace & Blessings

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Bow Wow interviews 'The Hater'

Lmao...I've never really liked Bow, but this is
I feel him, though...
Why hate? Focus on YOU! Do YOU!

Peace & Blessings

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

I'm coming...for YOU!

I recieved this text message today from a good friend of mine, I call her my lil sis- currently married to my lil bro (ugh! incest!)- no blood relation.
"Uh, sorry to bother you again but I need you to write another note or something on your blog cause I need something to read...seriously..."
That got a huge smile on my face...
What is my motto?
I do it for US.
Without you I wouldn't do it, because I couldn't do it.
Anyway, my faithful readers- I have drafts ready to be posted. You know me, I don't SHOW any of my work until it's completed- including excerpts.
I want to thank you for your patience- I've been so busy doing nothing but getting life together, and thank you even more for checking me out.
I shall be getting up earlier than usual so I can share some of my heart with you all tomorrow before I go to work
I love and appreciate you all.

Peace & Blessings

The taste of sweet

I was talking to a friend of mine not too long ago, and she was telling me about how she felt about someone she'd been persuing for some time...
The following words are straight from her heart...delivered to me...and then exposed to you.

This is LOVE, my people
"He is officially my heart beacuse it hurts like hell when he's not around, yet beats so hard when he is..."
I had to save it...the words gave me chills.
She also made the very true statement as follows...

"Your heart talks shit while your mind makes sense...but when your heart starts playing mind games, what tools do you use to get away?"

I wish I had the answer to that may have saved me alot of...everything. lol.

There was a time when a close female friend of mine didn't know what to do after multiple disappointments with guys...and I asked her not to change.
Begged her not to change.
This was her response:

"I won't. It's hard not to sometimes, but I gotta stay true to myself..."

Words have such a powerful impact...which is why I adore them...You can make words say ANYTHING you want- there's nothing that can express how you feel inside more than words..

well, actions- of course, but think beyond that!

I'll never forget the text I recieved from a woman I was getting to know a while ago...
I asked her what she liked about me, and this was her response

"You're kinda dangerous, and scarily almost just right..."
It flattered me without gassing my head up...too much. lol
Too bad that turned out to be a disaster, but more on that ANOTHER day.
Peace & Blessings

Words cannot express the awesome...

...So I won't try
Today, JUNE 10th is the release date.
Do youself a favor and go BUY the album.
Support good music...because this IS.
Peace & Blessings

CBox VBlog {Question # 1}

This is my first CBox VBlog entry- thanks to Mercie!

I thank Mercie again for throwing me my first question and getting the ball rolling!
I hope you got the answer you wanted!
Remember, post your questions in the CBox thing on the right side of my blog...
Thanks, guys!

Peace & Blessings

Sunday, June 8, 2008


Well...what can I say other than wow?
What kinda fuckery???
I must push him down when I see

Peace & Blesings

Saturday, June 7, 2008

We Are The Ones- William says the following beside the video...

"people say Obama's words are just words...
when was the last time "words" weren't important...???...

when was the last time a great leader didn't use words to lead...??...
when was the last time a person didn't use words to describe how they felt...?...
when was the last time "words" weren't empowering...?...

and we can all recall the last time "words" were used to divide us and install fear...

Bush used words to fear us into voting for him the second time around...
terror this...
terror that...
nuclear here...
weapons of mass destruction there...

and those words effected a lot of people's choices...

"enough is enough"...
let's rebuild...

let's change ourselves...
let's allow positivity to guide us...

let's take action....
let's activate our passion...
we are Americans....

and this is the first time in forever that someone running for president represents "US"...

some say this is all excitement...
I call it "proud to be an American"...

some say this whole Obama movement is "cult like"...
if it comes across cult like...
the cult is called America...

the Obama movement is connecting America.
and it has made "US" realize our importance...
the youth is excited and activated...
adults are passionate and motivated...
the elderly are proud to know the country they built is in safe hands...

we are one...

for too long politics has been corrupt...
separate from the American people...
with agendas that go against what the American people "need"...

politicians have spoken a different language...
making it so the youth and poor people feel as if voting was only for the wealthy and old people...
making "US" feel as if "we" had no voice...
making "US" feel powerless...
making it feel like if "we" did vote it wouldn't change anything...

but wait...
that did happen...
some of us voted, and it didn't change anything...

we were in the dark...
we had no voice...
we were powerless...

because America was not a united America...
and "they" spoke a different language...
and they had an agenda different from our well being...

correct me if I'm wrong... or speak up if I'm missing something...

we want education, health, safety, and good jobs...right???...
oh yeah...
and "a healthy planet to live on"...

but here we are...

in a war... poor education... poor health programs... the dollar is down... the planet, polluted...
the rich, richer... and the poor, struggling...
with sky high gas prices to top it all off...

and now even the rich aren't really rich internationally because our dollar is has fallen so far down...

in our slumber... a very small few got really rich...

because when you're sleeping...

"it's hard to change agendas"...

we know what happened in 2000 and 2004...
but in 2008...
it's different...

we are awake...
and there is a movement...

and "it's hard to change a movement"...

last time "we" didn't have a movement...
America wasn't united...

and now "United and "Standing"...for something...
we know the power of "US"...
and we have a person who represents the "U.S."...


"we are the ones we've been waiting for"...

I'm proud to be an American..."

We are what we've been waiting for
Vote for CHANGE

Peace & Blessings

Thursday, June 5, 2008

TB4B continues...Shawty Lo is asked to stop the beef...

Honestly, I think this is starting to get childish...
This was a good chance for Shawty Lo to stand up and be the bigger man and make T.I. look like an idiot...
But he denies.
He IS from the hood...the place of the knuckleheads...
If I were him, I'd do the same

Another interview...

Kneel and tell the truth?
Once again, I can't wait until Birthday Bash!!

Peace & Blessings

P.S. I have NOT fallen off...i'll be returning with my life asap...
also remember, hit the Cbox on the right- or my email! any question will get an answer...
any ;-)

Monday, June 2, 2008

Blinded by Pain- Excerpt 3 (( rough rough draft))

I opened my apartment door nervously. This was my first time having Steven in my room, and I didn’t know how he would react. I wasn’t the neatest girl around- though I tried to be. My roommate seemed to be the sloppy one- as always, leaving dirty dishes along with her clothes everywhere, as well as residue from the smoking sessions her and her friends had when they came over.
I let out a sigh of relief when I realized that the apartment was decent, and there was no sign of Ericka. She was probably out doing the usual- getting drunk, high, or laid.
I locked the door as I saw Steven glancing around the apartment.
“I like this little pad you have here.” He smiled at me. “This little bachelorette pad.”
“I wish.” I smiled back. “It’s more than me in here. I live with a girl named Ericka.”
He noticed me rolling my eyes after speaking her name, and he asked why.
“I’ll explain later. I want to remain happy tonight.”
He made his way to the living room and sat down on the couch as I made my way into the kitchen.
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked him as I opened the refrigerator and freezer. My bottle of Bacardi Coconut Rum was staring back at me. Yum Yum…
“Sure, I’ll have some water please.” He replied.
I rolled my eyes. What a good boy, I thought. I’m going to have to bring the bad man out of him. I know it’s in there somewhere…
“I don’t have any water!” I lied. When I wasn’t drinking alcohol, I was drinking water. It kept my skin clear. “Plus, it’s a Friday! Let me play bartender for you tonight!”
There was a slight pause.
“I don’t really drink like that, babes.” I heard him call from the living room.
“What? You don’t drink? Why not?”
“I just never found anything fun or attractive about drinking something that tastes terrible just to get drunk and throw up your dinner. It’s obviously not good for you, which is the reason your body makes you spit it back out.”
“Oh my God, Steven!” I exclaimed. “Lighten up! I didn’t ask you to take shots with me! I asked you to have a drink! I make a delicious rum and coke!”
Another pause.
“Okay, Misses Peer Pressure.” He gave in. “Make one for us- to share!”
“Coming right up, sexy!” I exclaimed. I was happy…oh so happy…I was going to get a little something in his system, and maybe his wall would come right down, and I would get to see the real him, or maybe another side of him. I just couldn’t believe how perfect he seemed to be.
There was no such thing as a perfect man.
I grabbed the rum and poured a good amount into a cup with ice. I then poured some vanilla Coke inside the cup and used another cup to mix it. I poured it from cup to cup to cup until I felt the rum was evenly mixed into the soda. I tasted it.
Delicious…it ran down my throat smoothly, and I felt the slight burn in my stomach. The liquor could not be tasted.
Now it was time to see how he would handle it.
Steven looked away from the television for a split second and caught me smiling ear to ear as I entered the living room.
“Hold on!” He started to smile too, as he raised a finger. “I’m not drinking that! I caught you with that evil grin on your face! You may have put a little something extra in that cup! Uh huh…you’re trying to take advantage of me! Don’t make me call date rape!”
I laughed as I plopped on the couch beside him. I handed him the drink, and he peered inside as if it was poison.
“Where’s yours?” He asked.
“I thought we were sharing?”
“Oh yeah!” He laughed.
“I’ll make mine after you start drinking.”
He looked at me.
“My friends know where I am, girl.” He smirked, then sniffed the drink. “They’ll come looking for me.”
“Boy, ain’t nobody trying to do anything to you!” I sat next to him. “I could get what I wanted from you without you being drunk! Now drink it!”
“Alright, alright- calm down, feisty lady. It will be okay. Shortly you will get me drunk, and you’ll be able to rape me without a fight. You just have to have patience! I know I’m too sexy for you to wait, but…”
I laughed and shoved him playfully.
“Stop playing and drink it!” I was getting impatient. “I want to see how good my bar tending skills are!”
He made an ugly face, and slowly took a sip. A small sip.
His face loosened.
He took another sip of the drink.
His eyes got squinted as he smiled. I loved his slanted eyes.
“This is really good!” He said. “Is there even any liquor in this?”
“Yeah,” I smiled at the compliment. “A little.”
“See, these are the types of drinks I like.” He sat back on the couch. “If I ever drink, I like mixed drinks that are smooth and sweet…not the poison you people be drinking. My friends make fun of me, but whatever. My dinner stays in my stomach at the end of the night and my taste buds love me.”
He was so different.
Ever since I entered college, every guy I met drank. Come to think about it, they were probably drunk when I met them. Drinking was the thing to do in this small college town. It seemed to be the only was to enjoy yourself. Sad, but true.
Yet Steven didn’t drink. This was just another good thing about him that separated him from the rest.
Things were looking too good to be true, but I refused to believe them.
This always happened. It’s a vicious cycle. Women wore make-up to look prettier by covering up the blemishes and enhancing our natural beauty. Men wore make-up that made them look more like Mr. Right- to you. Things are so smooth at first, as smooth as the make up we apply, and then all of a sudden- like the foundation women wore- their make-up started to fade until it was gone forever. By that time, we’re usually too caught up in love with who they used to be to realize who they have become. Then if we do peep the change, we always hoped that some day they would return to the way they were. We love them and do everything in our power hoping that they’ll realize that they should be back who they used to be, but we fail to realize that the person they used to be wasn’t them. It was someone they made up. So they could never go back and become that permanently- it was a temporary thing, like make-up. Once they know they have our hearts, the acting stops. Then as soon as they finally lose you, they apply the make-up back on.
I wish men would stop using this make-up and just get plastic surgery.
Dealing with this was a lose-lose situation, so you just have to make sure you never give them what they’re acting to receive. The longer they act, the happier you seem to be.
I turned on the radio as I went to the kitchen to make my drink. A loud rock station started to blast, and I told Steven to change it. I put my stereo system in the living room, and it really got on my nerves when people touched my things without asking. I would have to have a word with Ericka. She was pushing it…
“Why change it?” Steven shouted from the living room. “I love this song!”
“Wow. Do you really listen to that crap?” I asked as I mixed my drink. I made sure mine would be a little stronger than his.
“Yes!” he shouted. “I love a lot of different kinds of music, ye of the close minded tribe! Open up a little!”
I heard him singing some song about a pretender, and surrender…
It actually had a nice tune, but I just hated the screaming. You couldn’t make out a word being said!
I returned to the living room and saw that his cup was empty. I was surprised.
He was about to be loony tunes.
“Wow, were you thirsty?” I inquired.
“Wow, was I.” He responded as he sang his rock song and played his imaginary guitar. What a goofball.
Yes he looked so cute.
I placed my cup on the coffee table and went to change the station.
“Party pooper!” He yelled as he jumped up and came towards me. “What a kill joy!”
He was going to try to turn the station back, but I seemed to stop him in his tracks when Please Don’t Go by Tyrese was playing on my favorite R&B station.
He started to sing and move his body as if he was the one on the radio.
I admired his moves as he sang.
“Please Don’t gooo…Please don’t goooo…”
He could hold a tune.
Sexy. I should make him serenade me.
He all of a sudden stopped talking and looked as if he was in deep thought.
“You know, I always wondered…” He began as he made his way back to the couch slowly, staggering slightly. “Why is it that men always have these songs about begging a woman to stay, and to forgive them? Women do the same thing that men do, if not worse- yet I haven’t heard one song by a woman asking for forgiveness.”
I sat down next to him, grabbed my drink off the coffee table, and started to sip on it. It burned. Just like I liked it.
“You think women do worse? Please. Men are the most trifling things on the planet!”
“Things?” He gave me this look as if he was shocked. “Things? We can’t even be creatures? Animals? We’re just simplified to things?”
I thought for a second. “Okay, dogs! Dogs describe you well. You eat, sleep, and try to hump anything that moves.”
“So I guess it’s fair for me to call all women dogs at well, huh? Because all the ones I’ve come across are quick to roll over and open their legs for any dog.”
I could see a change in him. The liquor was lowering that wall, violently spraying off the make-up- the true him was coming out. I sat back, and examined. I was ready to see him.
“So I guess you’re basically calling all women bitches then, huh?” I couldn’t help but get defensive. “A female dog is a bitch, correct?”
“No, miss.” He looked me in the eyes. “I would never stoop to that level. Bitch and hoe is not in my vocabulary. I respect women. I just don’t respect the ones that hurt the good brothers, and flock to the bad ones. It makes no sense. I swear I’ll never get the female species!”
“Sounds like a personal problem.” I said, surprised at his response. He doesn’t say bitch or hoe? The men around here will call you both to your face, before and after they try to get your number. Especially after you deny them…
“Why don’t you say those words?” I was curious. “Don’t you believe that there are bitches and hoes around?”
“No, ma'am.” He responded. “I believe there are a lot of women who make mistakes in their life, as well as a lot of women who just aren’t for me. Who am I to call them a female dog, and a garden tool? That’s really not my place.”
“Wow. You’re a good actor.” I blurted out, due none other than to the liquor. I regretted it right after it slipped.
“Actor? What do you mean?” He looked upset. Probably the liquor seeping out onto his actions as well. He drank that drink way too fast. Obviously not an experienced drinker- especially if he didn’t like to get drunk.
“I mean I didn’t mean that, Steven.” I tried to retract my statement, but it was already out there. The stench had already been concocted in my brain, seeped out of my mouth and permeating the room, and like a smell we just had to wait it out. Or leave to escape.
“I think you meant it, ma.” He said. His whole attitude seemed to change. “You said it, so I think you meant it. Drunken words are sober thoughts.”
“I’m not drunk.” I lied.
Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. I was getting there, but I wasn’t drunk. Yet. I had a few more sips to go.
“So you think women are the only ones who get hurt?” He ignored me. “You think all men are out to just hurt women? Just to see how many we can lay down, and leave? It’s a big game to us?”
“Yeah, basically.” I didn’t really mean that, I just haven’t found that one to change my mind. I felt myself getting defensive, and when I got defensive, I got nonchalant. I threw my cares out the window because I didn’t want to set myself up for pain....
“Wow.” He continued to stare into my eyes. “Well I have news for you. I’ve gotten my heart broken to pieces. The smallest pieces, by my ex- girlfriend. I haven’t even gotten all the pieces back together, and it’s been over a year.”
I stared back at him until I was forced to look away. I saw the pain in his eyes, and I didn’t like it. He was serious.
“Do you know what happened to me?” I saw him looking my way out the corner of my eye. “Do you know what I think about every single day?”
“What happened?” I looked at him.
“I had a girlfriend my freshman year. Met her about a month into school, and we seemed to just click. We had so much in common. I loved everything about her, from her smile to her frown. When she looked her best, to when she looked her worst. I fell fast. I adored her. I treated her like my queen, because I felt she didn't deserve anything less. More, if anything!
So, we were together for about a year, and then summer time came. She had to go to summer school, I chose to work at home. Our school was located about two hours away, and I was never good with long distance relationships, but I figured this time things would be different. This time I was in love. So we decided to not let something as simple as distance take away what we had, and we continued the relationship. Things were so amazing up until the point she left. Then things started to go downhill. Fast.
She met new friends and started hanging out with them more, she found a job down there, and then she had classes. So she had to balance her social life, her job, and her school work and somehow fit me inside there.
That was fine with me, I was so understanding. Sometimes I would hardly hear from her all day, and then maybe get a ten minute conversation in with her at night. That was cool I could deal with that. But then I started to feel like she wasn't putting in an effort. She wasn't calling as much, she wasn't texting, I would tell her I loved her and get no response, I couldn't even get ten minutes at the end of the night! There was a time where I didn't hear from her for 24 a row. She would just apologize and say she was busy. This is when the arguing began.
One day I drove to the school to surprise her with her favorite chocolate and flowers, along with a day with me. I thought it would make her happy, and possibly save our relationship. I cared about our relationship, and didn't want to let her go. At least not without a fight.
I call her the day I was coming, and she doesn't pick up. I text her, and she doesn't respond. I figured she was probably busy or something, and I thought nothing of it. I felt it would make things better, the surprise would be even stronger due to us not speaking.
So I go to her apartment, nervous about what her reaction may be due to the way she was acting lately, and I knock on her door. After a couple minutes, a guy opens the door with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. I nearly drop the flowers and the chocolate to the floor.
He asks me what I wanted, and I look at the apartment number to make sure I'm at the right place.
As I pull out my phone to call her and ask if she moved, she appears to the side of the muscular man in a towel with a surprised look on her face.
You think she was surprised? How do you think I felt?
I can't even get any words out, and she starts to ask what I was doing there. Not a hey, nice to see you, or even a hey, let me explain- just a questionnaire about how I got there, and why I was there! I had no words for her, so I just handed her the chocolates and flowers and left.
As I drove home, two hours may I add, I tried to come up with any excuse that she could use- except for the obvious. I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I refused to believe what I saw with my own eyes, and I was down to believe they deceived me if she would just feed me anything- any lie would do. I was down for her lying to me, me believing it, and then we getting past it and working things out. That's all I wanted. Her. Us. That's all I wanted."
He seemed as if he were about to cry, but I saw no tears forming.
"I couldn't understand her logic." He continued. "I had given her everything! What more could she ask for? More attention? I was giving her more attention than I've even given anyone in my life! I cut off my friends for her, family...I just didn't get it. Do you know what she did? She sent me a text. A fucking text. And that's not it. Do you know what it said? The stupid text said Why don't you call next time and not just show up at people's places uninvited. Learn some respect. I don't think we're working out. It's over. That's what it said. Verbatim. I couldn't help but learn it by heart because I read it over and over hoping that somehow, some way the text would magically change, or I'd see a jk at the end. Something. Anything that will tell me that we weren't over. Anything."
He stopped and took a breath. He was talking so fast, trying to get everything out that he wasn't even breathing. It was like he was throwing up, throwing up his past. His vile, ugly, painful past.
“And then it didn’t end there. One day when the school year actually started, I saw them together. Yes, I’d seen them together before- hugged up, kissing, holding hands- doing what we used to do until she just didn’t want to do that anymore. But this time was different. I was walking to my car in the main parking lot, and I saw him screaming in her face. Just yelling and screaming, loose spit getting in her face. She was just sitting there. Taking it. Letting him yell and scream in her face, curse in her face. I tried to keep walking to my car, because it wasn’t my business. She wasn’t my issue anymore- due to her. I tried to ignore it. But I lost it when I saw him yank open the door to his car and try to shove her in. That’s when she started to fight back. She refused to get into the car, and he was trying to use force to get her in. She started to scream and fight. I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked up…” His voice trailed off as if it hurt talking about an issue as such.
The pain in his voice was evident. The darkness of his past was coming to the light, even though he was trying his hardest to keep it covered. It wasn’t working too well.
He was opening up.
So far, not a bad thing.
“What happened when you went up to them?” I asked. I was tuned into him as if he were a book, and I had reached the climax and couldn’t put it down…
I don’t think I could put him down.
“Well,” He sighed as he began. “I hate talking about this, so feel special. I don’t talk to people about this…this part of my life. I spend every day trying to forget it, yet every day it resurfaces in my brain- as if my thoughts are stained. It’s crazy.”
I loved the way he spoke as if he were a writer. It was like he painted pictures with his words. His words held the wait of an anchor, the power to hold you, yet the reasoning behind his words seemed to only be holding him down.
I was beginning to like him more than I did before. I didn’t like this.
“I walked up,” He continued; I tuned in. “And I’ll never forget the look on her face. Her expression was painted with embarrassment, confusion, gratefulness, and regret all together. The looked happy to see me, yet disappointed at the same time. Her man looked into her eyes and saw that there was someone there, so he turned around and saw it was me. I’ll never forget that smirk. His face held that ‘what the hell do you think you’re going to do?’ look. I wanted to talk to him about it, but I couldn’t control myself. He was hurting a woman I loved- just because he felt he took. So I took matters into my own hands.”
He paused again.
“I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I just grabbed him by his shirt, pushed him away from her, and slammed him on the hood of his car. He seemed stunned. I then looked him into his eyes and told him that I better not ever see him putting his hands on another woman, especially my woman. I felt like it wasn’t even me speaking to him. It was the fury.”
I was turned on by the fact that he could stand up for himself, but even more- somebody he cared for.
“He tried to struggle out of my grip, but I had a firm hold on him. Something I leaved from my step-father. If he moved, it would hurt him, so he just relaxed and agreed to stop. I made sure he meant what he was saying, and let him go.
I looked back at my ex as I walked to me car, and she had this look on her face that gave me chills. She was looking at me the same way she looked at me the first time she saw me. She looked as if she wanted me, as if I was meant for her. And for a split second, I wanted to play a movie roll and scoop her into my arms and bring her to my car and drive her away from that maniac.
Then I remembered that life wasn’t a movie…no matter how hard we try to change the scripts we’re given.”
I let that sink in before I responded. He was so true. We tend to only see what we want to see, only the good- especially when we’re in a relationship- instead of seeing what’s real. There was nothing Hollywood about life but the movies we saw. Happy endings were only present at the end of good sex, and that was also the beginning of troubles. I remembered when I used to think my life was such a fairy tale, or some sort of dream. Boy, was I woken up.
“Did you guys ever talk after that?” I asked him. “Did you ever try to get things back to how they were?”
“She tried. She sent me messages, called, wrote me, texted me, did what seemed like everything she could do to get me back. Telling me how much she loved me, saying how much of a mistake she made for leaving me, and how she wanted me back and she could show me how good she could treat me. She offered me dinner, clothes, sex, you name it. She tried hard. But I refused.”
“Were you with somebody else?”
“No, I couldn’t be with somebody else. I wasn’t myself, so why would I try to be with another girl. I couldn’t even be with the one I wanted to be with!”
“So you just rejected her?”
“Yep. I couldn’t go back to that. For what? To set myself up for the okey doke- once again? I couldn’t take that pain again. Ever. And pretty soon, she was back with the guy she was trying to leave for me. That’s when I just laughed at her, and laughed at any female who would do the same. She was a joke. A Comedian.”
“A hoe.” I added. “A bitch.”
“No, a mistake.” He corrected me. “A learning experience.”
I stared at him as he just looked down at his hands. He seemed so lost in the pain, so deep that nothing could pull him out.
I wanted to try and pull him out.
But what if me trying to pull him out cased me to get pulled in?
Was I willing to take that chance?
“Wow, I’m so sorry for ranting and venting to you.” He apologized. “You said you wanted to remain happy…I’m taking away your happiness. I’m so sorry.”

To be continued...

Blinded by Pain- Excerpt 2

I let those words rest on my chest as we continued to talk, eat, and drink.
Blinded by love? Could it be true? Does love blind you? It made sense, but I didn’t want to believe it.
She told me about this guy, her fiancée, and the love they shared that made me so jealous. It sounded a lot like how Sean and I began- the complete opposite of how we were now.
There was a lot I didn’t tell Alicia; things that I doubted I would ever tell her because I knew how she was. I kept to myself how he used to slap me occasionally if I ever made him mad. Not for little things, but big things like not calling him back, or raising my voice to him. These were things that I knew better than to do, but I slipped up sometimes. He always held me and told me he loved me after, and I believed him. He wouldn’t hit me if I didn’t make him angry.
I didn’t tell her about how I let him drive my car, and he crashed it into a mailbox. I knew my parents would flip if they ever found out I let anybody drive my car, especially him, so I took the blame and got into so much trouble. I had to pay for the damages and live without a car for months! All because I loved him.
If Alicia ever found out any of this, it would be hunting season. I really didn’t want her getting that involved.
We wrapped it up- the food and the conversation, and hugged. I knew it would be about a month before I saw her again.
“Think about what I said.” Alicia said to me as we walked out to our cars.
“I will, doll.” I was already thinking about it, so she had no reason to fear. These thoughts weren’t going anywhere. They would dwell in my mind until I came up with a conclusion on what to do with the relationship. “Thanks.”
She hopped in her pink beetle and sped off, forcing people walking to Pj’s to stop. She honked her horn and was gone with the wind. She was so funny.
The thoughts followed me to my car.
I had to see him; I had to talk to him.
Something needed to be done- I couldn’t take this pain any longer.
I sat in my car and called him. It rang, and rang.
No answer.
I sat back, started to softly hit my phone against the steering wheel. What was he doing? I haven’t heard from him in three days! He would send little texts asking what I was doing, small talk, then disappear all over again. Was he avoiding me? I called again. It rang, and rang.
No answer.
Forget it. I realized I had no more pride. He took it all away. I gave him all of me, so when he was gone, I felt like I was nothing. Why was he doing this? I couldn’t take it anymore.
I called again.
It rang, and rang, and
“Hello?” His voice sent chills through my body. My mouth was open, but nothing could come out. Love? Or blindness?
Of course. I wasn’t blind. I loved him.
And he loved me.
If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have picked up the phone, right?
“Hello?” he repeated.
“Hi, baby.”
“Wassup, Sasha.”
“Nothing,” I paused. How was I going to tell him? What would I say? “I want to see you. We have to talk.”
“About?” he seemed annoyed already. There was an echo in his voice like he was in a bathroom.
“Some things, Sean.” I was now getting annoyed. “Is it a problem that I want to see you?”
“No, no no, Sasha. I want to see you too. I’m out with some friends right now, so after that, I’ll stop by.”
I paused. Something wasn’t right.
“Are you with a girl?” I asked. He was driving me crazy!
“What?” I could tell Sean was pissed by the sound of his voice. I braced myself. “What do you mean am I with a girl? You think I’m cheating? You know what, I don’t have time for this. You’re not going to ruin my night, Sasha. I’ll talk to you later.”
He hung up the phone. I was used to it by then; he was always hanging up the phone on me when he didn’t want to talk. Why did he always get so defensive? Maybe it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have questioned him about something so stupid. I trust him!
Or do I?
I needed to relax, and if I went home I couldn’t do it. Where could I go?
The park? No, too late at night for that. Who knows who’s going to be in there waiting for some hurt girl with no sense to be walking around in the park?
I drove around and thought about where I could go to ease my mind. I was driving for about ten minutes when I saw the China Sing Town, a restaurant that Sean and I used to go to just spend time with each other and eat fried ice cream. I still remember the first time I tried fried ice cream like it was yesterday. He told me his mother used to bring him to this restaurant when he was young, and he loved to get the fried ice cream, nothing else. I was hesitant (come on! Fried ICE CREAM? Is just sounds nasty!), but I knew it would make him happy because it was special to him, so I ordered some. It was weird at first, but it turned out to be delicious. Ever since then, we would always go there to hold hands, make-out, and eat fried ice cream. That was one of the special things he did for me, but didn’t do anymore.
I decided to do it for myself. I was sure I could sit there and think about what I needed to say to him, and how I would say it. Some things just needed to be changed. He couldn’t get mad at that, could he? Not if he wanted to stay with me.
I parked in front of the Chinese restaurant, noticing a few cars surrounding mine. The restaurant was opened late, which I considered a good idea- I mean, it was good to Sean and I. We used to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night and walk there. It took a long time, but the time passed like seconds. That’s what love does to you.
One of the cars I noticed was a black Jeep, much like the one Sean had. Everybody had a Jeep in Georgia, though so I wasn’t stirred. It was a teenage favorite, a great graduation gift from the parents- as Sean got. I had to work for my little 2000 Cavalier I drive around.
I stared at the Jeep. It looked too much like the one Sean had. It was starting to bother me.
‘Leave it alone, Sasha.’ I told myself. ‘Everybody has a Jeep. It isn’t his.’
I knew he wouldn’t bring his boys here anyway. They were probably at somebody’s house drinking and smoking, carrying on, acting stupid- doing things that took away from his time with me. But what if he wasn’t with his boys?
It was something about that Jeep. Why couldn’t I ever go anywhere, nor do anything without thinking about him, or seeing something that reminded me of him?
I turned the car off, got out and started walking to the restaurant, getting nervous every step. Something wasn’t right.
I shouldn’t have walked inside.
To this day I regret it.
I didn’t even get past the door when I saw Sean sitting at a table across from the entrance, passionately kissing some girl. My legs almost gave out.
“May I help you?” The little China-woman hostess asked. I hardly noticed her. I looked past her, focused on the table on the other side of the restaurant, where my heart lay getting crushed.
I blinked my eyes to be sure it was him. It couldn’t be him.
It was him.
He was sitting there, kissing some girl- some light skinned bitch with long straight brown hair. They were eating each other’s faces, their fried ice cream in front of them melting.
That’s what really hurt me. Of all the things he could have gotten, he got the fried ice cream- the thing that he ate with his mother; the treat that he shared with me. Just wasting, melting away like my heart.
Pouring down the side of the cup like my tears.
If I knew every word in the dictionary and thesaurus I couldn’t even use those words to express how I felt.
I felt crushed. I felt like nothing. I gave him all of me and he threw it away. I was heart broken. My heart was actually so broken that I felt the physical pain. I felt weak. He was my supply of strength, and now it was all gone. I was so weak I couldn’t hold back the sobs, or the tears. So weak I couldn’t even walk over there. So weak I couldn’t even talk. I wanted to pull my eyes away but I couldn’t. I wanted to stop looking SO BAD, but I was too weak to look away. It was my punishment for being so weak, so blind. I had to sit there and witness the man I loved, making out and flirting with some girl. She must have tasted good, because they weren’t even stopping for air. He didn’t even kiss me that way! It seemed like they were so happy. I was sick to my stomach.
Why couldn’t I make him happy? Was I not good enough for him?
“Ma’am, would you like a seat? Is something wrong?” the hostess broke me out of my trance. One day I would thank her. Right now, I had to get out.
I turned and walked out of the restaurant.
I couldn’t even see straight. I saw my car, I saw his car, and I saw the floor. I fell to the floor as my legs gave out. It was like a pulsing pain, from bad to worse, to worst. I couldn’t let this knock me down though; he wasn’t going to have me dragging my body across the parking lot. I had to get up.
I stood up slowly and walked to my car, trying not to see his Jeep- the Jeep that couldn’t be his. This wasn’t real, it was all a dream- a nightmare. I got into my car, turned it on, and let the engine run. I couldn’t believe this. I had to leave. I pulled out of the driveway like a madwoman. As I neared the exit, I realized that my mother was right. My other friends were right. Alicia was right. I was blind. I was stumped. Love had me tripping.
And now what? Love has me crying, moping, sobbing- going crazy in my car. Why?
The sadness all of a sudden turned to anger.
Was I really going to let this nigga get away with this shit?
I couldn’t.
Monica’s ‘So gone’ video appeared in my head as I reversed my car. I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. I parked my car right next to his, and walked over to the restaurant. They kept big stones in front of the restaurant as ‘decoration’. I, on the other hand, was going to give Sean one as a present.
I picked up a nice sized stone and walked over to the jeep. I held the rock high over my head, and thought about the times we shared in his car. We drove places, we blasted music, we talked, fell asleep… He was so happy when he got the Jeep. I knew how much it would anger him if he came outside after his perfect night with this girl and discovered his Jeep had been busted into.
I held the stone up higher, and remembered how he called me when he got the Jeep. I was the first person he called, and he was so excited. We were both excited at the fact that I wouldn’t have to be driving him around everywhere anymore. He could actually pick me up- drive his own car!
I let the stone drop to the ground. I couldn’t do it. I loved him, and even though he hurt me, I couldn’t hurt him. I hopped into my car and sped off into the night, the tears flowing, wetting my shirt. What was I going to do?

By Lucius McCall

Blinded by Pain- Excerpt 1

I appreciated Alicia sitting there and listening to me vent about my man problems. It’s kind of funny, because I heard if you add ‘I’ to man problems, they became ‘main’ problems. It made sense; it was true. I tried to talk to my mom, as well as others, but nobody could give me better advice then my best friend. She was a year older then me, so I could look up to her, but not too old, so she could relate. Getting advice from her was weird though, because she kept it short and blunt. She listened without interrupting, and then gave me a short lecture that explained so much and made so much sense. It stayed while I was in her presence, but sadly when we would depart it would slowly disappear as my former thoughts eased its way back into my mind.
She was a pretty girl, whom you may call ‘artsy’. She went to Savannah College of Art and Design where she was majoring in Graphic Design. She had short hair, the Kelis look, and she always did weird things with it, like put parts in it, hearts in it-she even put a small hand with its middle finger up in the back of her head. Bossy. She wore long skirts, wooden earrings, bead chains, and flips flops. She wasn’t the typical beauty, but she was a beauty- at least all the males thought so. I was glad to be her friend, because she wasn’t the type to hang out with females, she said they caused too much drama.
I would only see her once or twice a month since summer classes were taking up her time- as well as a job, and a fiancée’. She also lived about a half- hour away, and went to a college an hour and a half away. Seeing her was scarce, but when I did, it was all love.
We were sitting on couches in our favorite coffee spot, PJ’s, chatting it up like good old times and enjoying hot drinks with brownies. We loved PJ’s because the customer service was so cool. They were free spirited, and funny- they made you feel like you were at home. Plus, their drinks tasted better than, but were cheaper than Starbucks. There were other things to spend money on nowadays, and a ten dollar cup of coffee was not one of them. Alicia got me hooked to drinking hot drinks in the winter, fall, spring, or summer. She said that smooth, hot drinks eased your brain, calmed you, and made your deep thoughts flow. I don’t know how, or why, but that’s what she said. It didn’t matter, because their white hot chocolate was heaven in a cup.
Alicia was sitting in front of me, legs crossed, cup in hand, waiting for me to start speaking. She could tell there was a problem by my actions, and how I begged her to come see me so we could talk face to face about it. We arranged for the meet to be today and ever since, I was anxious about it. I didn’t feel I as ready to hear Alicia’s response. It was time to start.
“I just don’t feel the connection anymore, Alicia.” I carried on. “It doesn’t make sense to me because I’ve given him everything! I have been nothing but a good girlfriend to him. We’ve been together for over a year, and he’s just now starting to act up. Why do all the men act up and change as soon as it’s too late; as soon as you fall for them?”
She paused before she started with the questions.
“How is he acting up?” she took a sip of her white hot chocolate.
“He doesn’t call anymore, no texts, no little messages” I started. “He just doesn’t do anything special for me anymore, Alicia.”
“And he used to?”
“Yes. He used to call every day, every night, after work and during his break. We would talk in the middle of the night, all day, and all night until morning. It was like we could never let each other go. He would send me cacti and ferns, surprise me with chocolate, and give me talking teddy bears with him saying something sweet! He would send me sweet little text messages just to let me know he was ‘thinking about me’. Now I can’t remember the last time he did any of that. Every time I talk to him, it seems like he has an attitude. To hear him happy, I have to listen to the teddy bear!”
“Cacti and ferns?” Alicia smirked. “You get love from a teddy bear?”
“He said it represented our love- forever living with simple things to keep it alive and painful to outsiders.” I ignored her other comment after realizing how stupid I sounded.
Alicia tried to hide a smile as she looked down and took a bite of the brownie.
“With all that talking, you never ran out of anything to talk about?” She questioned.
“See that’s one of the things that made me fall in love with him. We talked about any and every thing. He always made me laugh, even when I was mad or sad- at him! It was crazy, he was like my battery! I would be dead tired, then I would get a call from him, and I would be able to stay awake and alert hours later.”
“How are the conversations now?”
I paused. “Well, we hardly talk, and when we do it’s about nothing. And he has ‘to go’ a lot, says he’ll call me back, and never does.”
I watched her take another sip. Sometimes her silence made me nervous.
“Do you ever call him when he says he’ll call you back and never does?”
“I remember him telling me a while ago that one of his pet peeves was girls that call him after being told that they will get called back, and girls that call and leave messages, then call again. I didn’t want to annoy him. Plus he has friends, and a job. I don’t want to bother him”
“This guy is telling you he’s going to call you, and he’s not calling you. This has happened more than once. Don’t you think you have a good enough reason to be calling him?”
It was my turn to be silent. I guess to Alicia it meant that this was an opportunity to dig deeper- which she did.
“How’s the sex?”
“Honestly. I don’t want to hear about how it feels so good to sex somebody you love- I want to hear real shit. Is the dick good, or not? Can he lay it down, pick it up, then lay it down again? Or is he in need of porno for ideas, and some Viagra for a hard-on?”
This was the first time she had ever interrupted me. I could tell she was irritated.
“Well, he’s a decent size, and he has no problem getting it up, it’s just that he’s…plain. It’s the same thing every time. We make out, he gets on top, he cums, we done”
“How long does it take him to cum?”
“Seven minutes.”
She gave me a blank stare.
“Or more?”
“He ever use that tongue?”
“No, he’s very old fashioned. He says real men don't get on their knees for nothing. He wasn’t even freaky when I met him. He swears he wasn’t a virgin, but he sure doesn’t act like that.”
“You were a virgin, correct?”
“Yes, Alicia.”
“No freak in him at all?”
“I made him read a Zane book before.”
“Did it work?”
“Do you enjoy this lifeless, boring, redundant sex?”
I chuckled. “I love to please him, so yes.”
“But he doesn’t please you…”
She chewed on a brownie and stared at me.
“I actually think sex is over rated.”
“That, my friend, is because you haven’t had good sex!”
I sipped my hot chocolate and looked away. There was no being right with Alicia. And it sucked more, because you knew she was right.
“Okay, he’s not treating you right, the sex isn’t good, and he’s changed…so…why are you with him again?”
I hesitated. “I love him.”
Long sip of her white hot chocolate. I decided to take a bite of the brownie. I figured I could bite it like a bullet, and it would absorb the painful shots I knew she was about to throw at me.
“You love him?”
“How do you know you love him, Sasha?”
I had to think about that one as she stared at me waiting for my answer. I had a feeling that whatever I said would be taken as bull, and not taken seriously.
“When I see him, I feel alive. The first time I saw him I felt it was love at first sight. Every time I see him I feel the same way I did the first time. I can’t go to sleep without hearing his voice, whether it’s for five minutes, or five hours, I just need to hear him. I would kill for him, I would lie for him, and I would die for him. When I hear his voice, I can’t think of anything but him, how much I love him. When I kiss him, my mind is…I have no mind when I kiss him. He takes my mind, and breath away. I’ve given him everything, and will continue to give, until I give him the nothing I have to give. Can you seriously tell me that’s not love?”
“Well, okay Shakespeare.” Alicia leaned back with the same silly smirk she flashes when she knows she has a point coming. “Is this how you used to feel, or do you still feel this way?”
I reluctantly responded. It hurt me as I realized that- “I used to feel this way.”
Things started to piece together, but I didn’t want to believe them. I didn’t want to believe I was out of love, or that all this time was wasted. I knew we could get back right, I just knew it. I wasn’t going to give up the fight. All relationships need work at some point. This was just a phase; things should be back to normal soon, right?
“I want you to review this conversation on your own time, and listen to what you said.” Alicia started to deliver the bad news. I braced myself. “I actually have no other advice for you other than to listen to what you told me tonight. It’ll all make sense when you do it. If you review what you said to me, and feel you still want to be in this relationship, then do you. I wouldn’t advise it, though. Nobody can tell you anything when you feel you’re in love. Trust me, I’ve been though it. Therefore, I’m not going to waste my breath trying to tell you what you should do.”
“You’re telling me I’m not in love?”
“I’m telling you this, Sasha-” She leaned forward and looked deep into my eyes as if to make sure this thought she was about to share wouldn’t go anywhere after she left. “You’re blinded by love.”

By Lucius McCall