No Fairy Tales.

I am told that there are such things as happy endings. In fairy tales. But this is real life and real life has its twists and turns that sometimes leave you wondering, “where's my happy ending? Shit, where is my anti-climatic utopia before the shit really hits the fan?”

This year has been one for the story books. It has brought me so many blessings that I should be overjoyed. I have met people who I can honestly say I can't believe I didn't know before 2009. I have reinforced relationships with friends from the past. I have carved out a place for myself in a harsh world. I have lived with integrity and learned with humility.

However, there have been just as many things to lament as to celebrate. Amazing, yet true to the nature of life, nothing happens until you are ready to receive it. Happiness requires only that we step out of sadness long enough to open our hearts and arms. At least that is what I keep telling myself as I try to walk through my sad times.

In reflection, I am not where I would like to be. I have experienced some difficult financial hurdles this year. I have more often found myself without things that I have spent a lifetime accustomed to. I have worried endlessly, or so it seems, about how I would make certain things happen. I have laid awake in the wee hours of morning praying for miracles. All in all, they have come. For that I am thankful. Yet, not to sound ungrateful, I would love to say that I am living in the time where I am strides ahead of the other rats in this race. I know that time is coming but I expend many thoughts on the wish that it was already here.

My story is by no means unique. I am sure many of you are also beleaguered by financial challenges, trying desperately to hold on to a smile while burdens pile up. I know that many of you may be far worse off than me. You may be facing mountains of bills, perhaps you have no idea where you will be sleeping tomorrow or the day after. So, I don't have to tell any of you how hard these times are. However, I will tell you this: life is a journey that none of us escape alive. The best you can do is live this moment with everything that you have. Be generous with what you do have and have faith that, in the end, goodness prevails. Such is the way of life.

No Rest for The Weary.

As if it wasn't bad enough that the King of Pop is dead, now you have all this bullsh*t journalism about it!

First off, I am so f*cking tired of people misquoting the man himself. I'm so f*cking done with these tired ass reporters continuously calling him a pedophile and child molester based on their own view of reality. Just report the f*cking news dammit! Michael Jackson was cleared in both trials. In the days after his death, it was reported that the first alleged victim LIED. People keep pointing to his interview with that crack pot assed Martin Bashir as some "smoking gun" of admission. Get the f*ck out of here! Sharing a bed with someone is not, by default, a sexual thing. People always want to push their perverted slant on other people.

Second, who the f*ck are all these nutballs who are sudden experts in the life of Michael Jackson? What the f*ck should we listen to them for anyway? No one can know what Michael Jackson was thinking, felt or wanted except Michael Jackson. People kill me, jumping in front of cameras trying to be f*cking experts. It's likely that their own damned lives are shot out. I'd like to see someone slice their lives open and watch them defend the dumb sh*t they do and say on a daily basis.

I'm tired!! I just want peace for the man. He may not have made the choices I would have made but he's human. As such, he deserved to be treated with respect and rest in peace. His family deserves justice, they deserve to know what happened to him. Everyone else deserves to mind their own f*cking business.

What The F*ck Are You Looking At?

I guess in this day and age we should be glad if anyone sees any f*cking thing. Muthaf*ckas act like they are so wrapped up in their own pathetic sh*t stories to give a damn about anybody else. Truth of the matter is muthaf*ckas see everything. They only acknowledge the sh*t that they feel can benefit them. If some sh*t you did can advance their position then they are all over that sh*t like flies.

It would be one thing if you were being looked at as the individual you are, possessing unique qualities and abilities that could benefit society. Instead, most muthaf*ckas are studying you to predict your downfall or, in some cases, plan it! If you think I exaggerate then observe the people around you. Ask yourself what their motives actually are. Are they helping you achieve your goals? I would dare to say that the majority of your associates are steadily putting a buzz in your ear about how unrealistic your dreams and aspirations are. I would even go as far to say that it is not that they don't want you to succeed. Rather their desire is that you are unable to surpass them.

These are the muthaf*ckas who scrunch up their faces whenever you mention a new idea. You say you want to paint a room in your house and they ask you why. You decide to upgrade your ride and they tell you the broke down piece of sh*t you are driving is fine. You put your child in a better daycare and they ask why you want to spend that extra money. 'Cause I don't want my kid walking around thinking that schools should smell like piss and vomit.

You just want to scream at these f*cked up a$$holes, "What the f*ck are you looking at?! Pay attention to what the f*ck you are doing and just maybe we can both get some f*cking where. Stay in ya lane nikka!"

You know, you don't have to do the sh*t I do. Your story ain't the same as mine. So what, you think I'm siddity? Who f*cking asked you? I know what the f*ck I am. I live with me every second of everyday!!! So what the f*ck are you looking at? There is very little you can tell me about myself that I don't already know. You can't see sh*t about my emotions, my thoughts or my beliefs from the outside. So seriously, what the f*ck are you looking at?

The truth is you don't f*cking know. You think you know from a glance that we may have shared. You think you know because you heard a phrase that was uttered. But you don't f*cking know. You can try to look deeper but you will never know. You will only see through the prism of your own experience what I choose to show you. So, stop staring in attempts to dissect my sh*t. Stop gawking in amazement when you glimpse the outward manifestations of my inward struggles. Just do you and everything will be fine.

I Ain't Dealing With These Jokers No More!

I have decided to stop competing with nothing niggas. I have spent too much time trying to win brass rings and shiny Cracker Jack prizes. My competitors ain't currently got sh*t worth winning.

Too many people raise their kids comparing them to other that they think are on the right track. "Look at Suzy Q down the street! You think she bringing home these kinda grades?" When we are younger we don't have the power of mind to even ask ourselves what the f*ck Suzy Q has to do with us. We just accept the shame and guilt of the comparison. Then we walk around wishing to push Suzy Q in front of the damn school bus. Years later when we get back to the class reunion we see that Suzy Q is a cotdamned basket case, seeing multiple therapists for f*cking mental torture that she is self inflicting in the need for perfection. Meanwhile, her whole f*cking life is falling apart because she's been through 3 failed marriages and has 5 wild, uncontrollable rug rats she's raising alone.

I want to be competitive with that muthaf*cka who's got the right spirit and mindset to get ahead. I want to get down and dirty in it with that person who doesn't have a vocabulary of failure. I want to one-up the person who understands what it means to really live, undeterred by fear or self loathing or ten thousand other things that make people strive to reach the gutter instead of the stars. I want to win against the person for whom mediocrity is NOT an option.

I came into 2009 with a new way of looking at life. I had not even declared the sh*t fully. I just knew that I needed to focus on something else to get somewhere else. In retrospect I have lived these words since January. I just never declared them. My 2009 motto..."I deserve better. If you can't be better then you need to be elsewhere." Not that I have put people on the chopping block however, I'm done competing with nothing niggas. That has stolen my focus for far too long. There are certain things that are my birth rite in this life. My happiness is one of these things. I will never claim it if I am competing with miserable people to be the most miserable.

The time has come! It is right now. There are too many successful, happy people in the world. Why can't I be one of them? F*ck these jokers who think life is supposed to be a stream of unyielding pain and suffering. Life is supposed to be full of wonder moments of extraordinary love and purpose. Life is supposed to be smiles and laughter mixed with tears of understanding and recognition. We all know bad sh*t is going to happen but it doesn't have to end all that is good. So, I am going out there and getting with the people who don't let crazy sh*t get the best of them. I'm making myself competitive with the folks who squeeze the pulp out of life's lemons, using creativity and vision to make the best damn lemonade ever tasted.

"I deserve better. If you can't be better then you need to be elsewhere!"

All Bulljunk Aside.

I think I am gonna try to give up my anger with dude! I think I am reaching the f*cking conclusion that he doth not know! Now, ignorance is no excuse but sometimes sh*t just is what it is.

He's lagging behind. He's floundering in a cruel world and is brave enough to think that he can do it all alone. I am woman enough to let him have his way.

The other day Mari Torres did a show on mental health. The sh*t was totally unearthing. I finally realized how f*cking crazy I am to continue to try to demonstrate worth to someone who does not even value themselves. A man who seriously loves himself does not look for ways to f*ck up their existence. A man who truly knows his power does not wield it to crush others for the sake of folly. A man who feels like he can do anything he sets his mind to does not spend his time running behind meaninglessness. So, if I now realize all these things about who and what he is, I can no longer be angry with him for my craziness in following his missteps.

It would be so simple if he would wake up and get his sh*t together instead of expending so much energy trying to make it look like he's got his sh*t together. At some point I just believe muthaf*ckas get tired of moving sideways and backwards. He's been stuck on the same stupid sh*t for years now. He has periods in which it looks like he is experiencing growth and then he relapses. His set backs are these major f*cking earth shattering events!

I used to buy into the reasoning that there was something wrong with me. I see now that he is the one with the disjointed thought. He spends all his energy trying to project his problems onto others and diflect his issues with sarcasm and f*cked philosophies. The sh*t is smooth, no doubt. If you don't know the truth about him, you'll definitely fall for the bulljunk. It's how he gets over. He has yet to understand that he is a force to be reckoned with. When he talks people listen but right now he ain't got sh*t to say. He still poppin' the same game he had when I met him. "N*gga, elevate yo sh*t. Conceptualize on some groundbreaking sh*t even. Make it hot! Spit fire and burn this b*tch down with passion about something other than shirkin' and jivin'. You are only f*cking yourself out of your best sh*t."

And just as I am typing this...in he walks! Okay, let's play nice. I can play nice. I'm still shaking my head, though. "Damn, dude, if you only knew who and what you REALLY are. Underneath all the false bravado and machismo, you are a really wonderful guy."

Dude is Trippin'

I don't think that I want the bulk of my blog to be about dude. However, when I see the stupid shit that emerges from his existence, I can't help but comment.

I should start by saying that since January I have treated him differently. I have not spent my time trying to be under him. I have not really talked to him about anything serious. I have not given him the respect of conversation or general knowledge. In other words, I have given him the same sh*t he has been giving me. Needless to say, that has been a problem for him.

So, this muthaf*cka now takes issue with the fact that I avoid coming into the space that he occupies. He comments to me that I find every way to get around having to be in his space with him. I told him he is absolutely correct. I am in now way denying the fact that I am avoiding him on that level. I wanted it to be blatantly and painfully obvious. I wanted this piece of sh*t to understand full well that the concept of HIM is dead to me.

Now, the question that springs forth for me is "why the f*ck does he care?" I mean, why is he concerned that I am avoiding him? This is the same d*ckhead that just in December told me that he wanted me to live my life unconcerned with what he was feeling or going through. This is the same punk ass muthaf*cka who told me that he feels relieved when I am not paying attention to him. All of a sudden it has become an objective for him to get me to share space with him. What the f*ck is that about?

When I cared, he had no clue what to do with that. He spent every moment trying to figure out how to get me to NOT care. Now that I have arrived at the "f*ck him" attitude, he wants me to chum up to him and be friendly. It's not gonna happen. As I said, that aspect of who he is, what we were is dead to me. Let his wretched ass sit in the dungeon of life wondering why the f*ck he gets no respect from me.

Trust me, he will soon beg for me to treat him with an inkling of the love and respect I once had for him. He will soon beg for all the things that I once gave so freely. He will very soon understand what he has lost trying to be the f*cking bigshot. He needs to grow up.

These Jokers Is Trippin'!

This is some sh*t I have been thinking about for the last week. Why is there such a lack of true, dependable people in the world? I can't count the number of muthaf*ckas who come to me hollering, "let me know when you got something poppin'!" What I can count is the number of these same muthaf*ckas who actually show up in support when you finally get something poppin'!!!



You are doing f*cking excellent in the world if you have five loyal folks in your life. More than likely four of those are family members that you can strong arm into supporting you but you go with it not wanting to have an empty house. You drag those five people around the world in intervals, thanking them incessantly. Your whole fan base soon knows their names. Before long though, all the b*tches who were yelling "let me know when you got something poppin'" want to know why you ain't give their sorry asses a shout out.

It's always the f*cks who do the least that want the most credit! They wanna stand in pictures with you, looking proud, like they birthed you. They wanna hand out business cards with your logo on it and their contact info, like they been hustling your sh*t longer than you have. They always wanna call you with other people on the phone like they have the inside track. They wanna take the stage with you when you are receiving your awards and accolades, like they were sweating and toiling with you, having sleepless nights pursuing your vision. I wonder if these phony sh*theads ever have a moment of guilt behind their shameless butt munching.

I just hope that I have never been thought of as the opportunistic piece of sh*t I am describing. I have tried to treat everyone with the consideration that I would want in return. I have tried never to take advantage of anyone. I have tried to be a nurturing and supportive friend to everyone I have referred to as such. I'm not perfect and so there are some who I still owe a great deal. When I can sufficiently repay their kindness and generosity, I shall. However, there will be more than a few muthaf*ckas who will be extremely bellicose when they find that "you gets nothing here!" Keep it moving b*tches, shop is closed and I'm NOT trippin'.

Bucking.

Okay, the question on my mind right now is, why does everything have to be a f*cking challenge with some muthaf*ckas? Can't I ask you to do something without it being a swipe or statement of how male you are?

I just wish dude would give up the psychological mind games. That sh*t is old and tired. It used to matter to me because I used to really care what he thought. Now, I'm so over that sh*t. I don't really give a f*ck if you think I am using you as the slave downstairs. So what if I am? You are either gonna do what I ask or not. It doesn't change a muthaf*cking thing. All it does is let me know what I need to do.

When will the madness cease?

Now, barring this silly muthaf*cka and his antics, I must pose the question...are government offices all on the same time management plan? I swear it seems like when you go to any government office (local, state or federal) these muthaf*ckas practice slow poking and a$$ dragging. That is until it's time for them to get off. Everything become urgent in that last hour. WTF? Is it a matter of respect? They seem to approach this sh*t as if their appointment is the only one you have for the day. Contrary to their belief a lot of us lowly, common, old citizens have other things to do besides occupy a chair in their office for hours on end. Seriously!! That's some bulljunk if I ever saw it!

Let Me Give The Sh*t Some Context.

I got some 'splainin to do! From that last entry y'all prolly wondering about a couple of things. Basically, dude is the muthaf*cka that I have spent the better part of adulthood trying to shepherd into maturity. My friends and I call him "my husband who doesn't know he's my husband". In a host of ways, this man appears to have his sh*t together. If you meet him you will instantly love him. He's intelligent, well-spoken, considerate, charismatic and handsome. Yet, when you look deeper, if he allows you to, you see the craters in the foundation. The f*cked up thing is that I came to accept those craters a long time ago and his is too f*cking daft to be appreciative.



He has 3 amazing sons. His eldest son is the product of the most tumultuous and painful part of history. Hence, a part of the reason I feel he doesn't talk to me about him so much. That and the fact that he is not the custodial parent. The two youngest have become a really central part of my life. Until December, we all lived under MY f*ucking roof as one happy "family". Then dude lost all his muthaf*uckin' marbles.



I have not sought to put strict definitions on my relationship with dude. Definitions seem to make him jittery. My take is that we just are what we are. Now the kicker is when you ask him what we are. I have tried before and his explanations are incoherent, to say the least. This muthaf*cka would with one breath tell me some sh*t like "you're the only friend I have", then say some old dumb sh*t like "you're an easy target to be taken advantage of by me". WTF?!?!?! Schizo!!! This is the same f*ck who asks me not to care about him but will NOT get the hell away from me!!! Muthaf*cka just will not go. Sh*t the damned universe will not let him leave. He's like Mr. in The Color Purple and until the time that he starts to rectify the dumb sh*t he's done to me, his life is always gonna be this pile of sh*tty stops and starts. He is always going to NEED me. The problem is that he just won't acknowledge that need and accept it for what it truly is. I know that dude loves me, the issue is that he has no clue what love actually is. I can recognize the sh*t he does as love. I can hear it in his disjointed argument of why I should NOT care about him. I can see him constantly struggling with it. I almost feel bad because he's so f*cked in the head but I digress. It is surreal to watch this muthaf*cka tussle with something that he cannot comprehend.

Dude is quite frankly a jackrabbit. He is the type to cut his nose to spite his face. He doesn't realize that he does it. He really thinks that the sh*t he does is self preservation. He thinks that isolating himself from people who care about him is protecting them. Sad. He thinks he is a master of mind manipulation. Every conversation turns into this study of his life philosophy. Usually I just go with it, not because I get it but because it makes more sense than arguing with a fool.

Anyway, dude has a plethora of issues and circumstances that continue to spiral downhill because he is too immature to see and nurture his blessings. His is spiritually inept and uninterested in making an earnest change. So, his life must break him.

As for that incident that happened to spark my last post...dude has been pushing it since December. Instead of him licking my boots for my graciousness on his behalf, he always has so much muthaf*cking sh*t to say. Here you have a n*gga without a pot to piss in or window to throw it out of, living in my basement, not contributing a muthaf*cking thing to the house and he has the f*cking arrogance to think that he can be f*cking upset about some sh*t that happens here! Ha! This is laughable. This muthaf*ucka who wants me to stop caring would not know what the f*ck to do if I did.

I could be a b*tch and tell him to take his sh*t and live on the streets. However, I've never been one to kick people when they are down. Further, I don't want his sons to suffer because he's an ignorant f*ck. That's the sad part in this, those boys need stability. They have been through a lot in their little lives. I care about them probably more than I should and I don't want them to have to have anymore discomfort if I can help it. So, I bide my time. I sit back and listen to the dumb sh*t dude says and believes in. I pray for him because he has no idea what's on the horizon. He wants to talk sh*t now but trust me he will lick my boots! Before it's all said and done, this n*gga will bow and recognize. He better hope I still feel something for him then.

Dawn wishes silly muthaf*ckas would grow up! Not everything is a cotdamned conspiracy n*kka!!!

Today, well technically yesterday, something happened that really pissed me off. I could see myself strangling dude and not even giving a sh*t.

Here's the set up...I'm chilling in the living room (my regular, serious work room) when I decide to listen to some material that has come across my desk. I pop the dvd into the dvd player in the family room, turn down the volume on the surround sound and go back to the living room to meditate and let the content marinate. A few minutes later I hear footsteps coming from the basement. I'm chill and thinking nothing of it when I hear dude asking if I was blasting my sh*t on purpose. I say no. He says that he was sleeping. I say I didn't know that. He says he thinks I did. I wanna say f*ck you but I keep it mellow and let him go about his business. I don't move to turn down my entertainment and I don't give him another glance.

I'm saying, though, what the f*ck? I don't know what the hell he does in the basement. I have purposely stopped going down there while he's there because I don't want to stay in his presence like that. Beyond all that sh*t, I coulda strangled him because here this muthaf*cka is talking to me again like I'm a f*cking animal. I get sick of him treating me like I am the source of his problems. I am neither the cause nor the beneficiary of his issues. His sh*t stems from the fact that he refuses to grow up. He refuses to stand up and stop thinking he has unlimited tomorrows. He refuses to stop leading with his d*ck and use the f*cking good sense God gave him. He's two kind of crazy. That's the source of his problems!

I'm so sick of these boys trying to play grown up games. Muthaf*uckas ain't got sh*t to show for their existence, everything inside and around them slowly falling apart. I wanna tell these b*tches like Celie in The Color Purple, "Until you do right by me everything you even think about gonna crumble."

As for dude, his ass ain't gonna ever have sh*t until the day he mans up and gives me my due! I vocalized it but God said it!