Relationship Goals

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https://www.facebook.com/ViralThread/videos/vb.363765800431935/619055001569679/?type=2&theater

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I Kissed a Girl and I Spiked It

**BlogTrack: All Eyes On Me

“….so much trouble in the world nigga

Can’t nobody feel ya pain….

The world’s changing every day, time is moving fast,

My girl said I need to raise,

How long will she last

I’m caught between my woman and my pistol and my grip…..”

I was sitting at the bottom of the staircase that led to the area where table dances were performed and monitored. I can’t remember what I had on, but I sat there, slightly bored with my atmosphere but still new and timid, with six inch clear heels that I was still learning to walk in. I was a people watching stripper. I people watched and observed more than I hustled. Don’t get me wrong: I made money and good money. But going out to get it was something I was just not really into doing. I felt like here I am, fabulous, nearly naked and wearing extremely high heels that one wrong turn and I could break my ankle or leg in; the LEAST a nigga could do was see me and motion for me –

-not make me come to him begging.

So I hardly did that unless I was on a mission. I people watched and listened to music a lot. And this particular night was no different.  As I was sitting there, she came and sat next to me. She was the ‘it girl’ of the club. She had been gone (I think she took a break to go work out of town…’new girls’ get mo’ money) and had only been back for a couple weeks when she came and interrupted the world I had drifted off into. I couldn’t believe she was talking to me. In her absence, she was one of the girls that I heard lots about. She was one of the top money makers and was described to me as being one of the most beautiful girls there. I had never even seen so much as a picture of her until she appeared one night out the blue, intimidating the new girl in me. I was new to the night shift and her return, based off of what I had heard, was a detriment to the money I was making. She knew how to go get it and make the men come off dollars and I was still trying to figure my way around my nude introversion. So she made me nervous. She wore midi- black boots with a six inch stiletto and pranced delicately around the stage and swung effortless around the pole a couple of times. She didn’t intimidate me with her dancing. I can say that for fact. But her beauty was undeniable. Her breasts were small and so was her ass. For what it was worth, she was tiny. I think she was like a size 5/6 or something like that. Maybe not even that much. She was beautiful and her body had colorful tats in a few places but nothing that took away from her. Her body looked untapped: no childbirth or age had come in a done anything to her (respectfully speaking..i mean no offense to anyone...my body ain't had kids but my breasts ain't PERKulating for nobody no mo')!!  She was like this Porcelein doll and she used that to her advantage. Smart woman.  Her small breasts were perky and sat up with nipples that were even lighter than she was. She was Puerto Rican and she wore a mild resting bitch face that lacked a smile but was flowing with confidence.

She danced like “I  know you missed me…here I am, rain niggas”

I stared at her when she danced. I wondered how she was so good at what she did. I wasn’t bad, but like I said, I was still new and I wondered what it took to get THAT confident.

On this night, when I sat at the bottom of the table dance room staircase, there she came and plopped down next to me. We had never so much as said hello to each other, so it was an awkward feeling of ‘what are you doing next to ME???!!!”, although I never said that. I spoke after she spoke to me and asked me how I was doing.

“she’s talking to ME?”

I don’t remember much more from the ice breaking conversation, but it didn't go for long before she dropped the ball on me that I thought was a joke, 
but as it turned out, she was so for real.

“So you ready to be my  girlfriend???”

I blushed in surprise and laughed with a lot of questionable nervousness as I didn’t even know how to respond to that. No one had EVER asked me that or approached me like such and I had never entertained a woman.... although I had never been afraid to admit that I loved how beautiful women are, dressed, nude and beyond. Women are just beautiful.

After I laughed as an answer, she let me know she was serious.

And that was all she wrote.

It wasn’t long after that, that she was my girlfriend. I can’t remember if I said yeah that night or in the days that followed, but at some point, I definitely said ‘yeah’. 

“hmm, yes? I’m ready to be your girlfriend? I’m ready to be a girlfriend to a woman? I know what that means?”

I didn’t know what I was getting into or why she wanted ME. It made no sense, but I went with it. And the next thing I knew, I was the girlfriend to the most popular, beautiful woman at the club. And she was mine………..?

For the next year or so, we were the Thelma and Louise of the club…sorta. I was more of the follower of her. She knew people, knew things, and knew places and I just went with it all. She had a mission for her life and she was money oriented. You didn't see her cry or show/share a lot of emotions. She was very girly, but whatever happened in her life before i met her had ushered her into an aware sense of self and self protection. She may have been a stripper, but that's as nude as she got (the clothes on her back). She didn't go around giving out her feelings, tears, overthinking....all the things I do and was doing back then. 

 She was also that girl that tries to meet the celebrities and gets backstage. Not to have sex with them tho. Nah, she really wanted to either get in their pockets (without sex) or use them to get on to her next level. She was always about her business and she used her sex appeal and beauty and quick witted tongue to get her where and what she wanted, when she wanted. Just look at this blog ! 

 I remember at the Cash Money concert we went to, we waited for HOURS after the concert in hopes of getting backstage. It was her hope, not mine. I had been ready to go when we made our way out to the Sheraton at Keystone at the Crossing where the CM crew was staying. We got there early and waited, right along with the rest of the groupies. I was so over that shit so quick but she swore we were about to meet them ....I’m not sure what we were gonna ‘do’ after meeting them -_- 

I just went with the flow.

We saw them. They finally arrived and breezed past us with their crew and up the escalator. Baby, Wayne, BG and Juve…..it was the hole click of CM niggas and there were so many women to pick from that we were just two needles in a bulk fabric store.

 We were non-factors and she had me out there spending hours waiting on these niggas….why? It really pissed me off. But it began because we had been on stage with them.

During Back that Ass Up, Juvenile wanted to pick some women from the crowd to come onstage with them. I raised my hand after her nudging …..I don’t want to make it seem like she was making all my decisions. She wasn’t. I was malleable tho and she knew that. I said ‘ I SHOULD raise my hand’….she RAISED my hand. LOL. It was a team effort I suppose. We had great seats, up front and in the middle so they saw us. I couldn’t believe it. We were huge Cash Money fans and dominated all their music when it came time for us to get on stage at work (no one else could dance off of our picked CM songs and sometimes even me and her fought for the rights of a song o.O  Yeah i know. We did that w/The Block is Hot. We both wanted that to be the song that said 'here comes *insert stage name*. ....we ended up sharing it.). 

The fact that they saw me and someone said ‘HER” was mind blowing.

Market Square Arena.

Butter. Age 21ish.

And here I was, being pulled onto the stage, from the floor with random audience members ‘helping’ (air quotes) get me up there by pushing (or grabbing/feeling) my ass in those snakeskin Bebe pants I had on. Next thing I knew, me, her and about three other women were on stage. I was on the end.

Juve and Lil Wayne quieted the audience down and told them what was about to happen.

*Blogtrack change:

Don’t Flex baby

I wanna see you touch your  toes in that dress baby

Bounce it up and down like we having sex baby” *

They were about to have each woman take the center of the stage, in the middle of a PACKED concert at Market Square Arena, and bounce their ass to the music. The girl who bounced the hardest was gonna get 100 dollars….and then they started. Like I said, I was last.

 I watched as each girl took the center and bounced ass all the way down to their thongs. WAIT –

-WE GEttiNG NAKED IN FRONT OF MARKET SQUARE ARENA!!!!!!??????!?!?!?!?

I looked over at my girlfriend in confusion. I looked out at the sea of people in the audience and even saw a group of dudes I knew from the club who I was wayyyyy cool with. I thought ‘I know they know me from the club, but do I want to do THIS? Do I want them to see me do THIS?”

I didn’t.

I asked her did she plan on taking her pants down and she said no.

It all happened quickly. They got to me and it was my turn to take center stage in between Juvenile and Lil Wayne, while the DJ spun Bounce that Ass beat back to the beginning and the guys yelled into the mic “BOUNCE THAT ASS, BOUNCE THAT ASS’’...the audience participated, including those men I knew....

….this is surreal to think back on. This is a crated memory. I forgot about it until I started blogging just now and the fact that I recall so many of these details is hilarious !!!! Oh boy this life……………..

Anyway,

In front of the sea of people, I turned my back to the crowd and proceeded to give my best Ass Bounce. I mean, hey, here I was. I could run off the stage but then what ? I bounced and I can’t remember for sure, but I think they started yelling ‘TAKE IT OFF, TAKE IT OFF”

**Blog track changes again:

“Let me see it

Let me see it

Let me see it, let me see it

 Bend over let me see it”

….oh the pressure and the hot lights …….shit.

I started to grab the sides of my pants and pull them past my ass, revealing my black panties that I had underneath. I never left the house with this as a plan, so I didn’t put underwear on that were meant for seeing/sharing. They weren’t granny panties, but they were covered panties. Yes, all strippers don’t go around in thongs and G-strings all day long, can you believe it ??!!!!!

I did it. I pulled my pants down, but not my panties. I kept some type of striptastic pride. I showed my panties and bounced my ass and no ass check was harmed or fell out of the sides of my underwear, but I bounced like I knew how to bounce! After all, I did!!!

And they took notice it to it and stroked my naked ego a bit. How my bounce with my panties on drew notice and applause will forever fail me at understanding but it did. My girlfriend was next and she very snobbishly bounced her small booty and didn’t remove an ounce of clothing. They cheered and liked it. I was mad. Why didn't she join in like the rest of the pack???!!!! Why didn't she go before me so I could have been secure in my notion of not taking down my pants. Ugh. She just had some type of it-factor I guess, plus she was beautiful. They loved her no less. And she knew who she was. She knew she was not 'just anybody' and as much as a stripper she was, she wasn't. She was a businesswoman. She knew her rights, her wants and her No's from her Yes's and she used it all accordingly. I was still learning that this was the way to be. Not going with what the crowd is doing. 

We were exited off stage after the guys shouted us (and our asses) out and as we walked away, my high hopes of getting a hug by Lil Wayne disappeared as he was on the other side of the stage, but I think I did get hug or slap fives with Juve and BG.  And someone (Slim I think?) handed me a hundred dollar bill that I swore I would never spent (yeah, right).

We hung out in the halls of backstage for a lil bit and somehow, ended up in DMX’s room, with DMX, his entourage and wife. He was back there deep in one of those heated DMX conversations and when he saw me he looked, gave one of those ‘if only she (the wife) wasn’t here’ sighs and shook his head. I was a fan of him too and had NO plans or thoughts of fucking him or being a backstage groupie. I was just back there cause my girlfriend was. And we were only back there because we had just got off stage.

From there, we went to the Sheraton and ended up back at her house empty handed.

Me and my girlfriend.

The chick that was like the ‘dream girl’ of the club, who came and sat down next to me one random night and asked me if I was ready to be her girlfriend, to which I eventually replied yes.

The funny thing is  that I really didn’t like the pressure that came along with being her girlfriend. She took to me because she thought she could make me do whatever she wanted. And she was partly right. She saw the ‘Ebony’ (Player’s Club) in me and took to it like ‘Ronnie’…..and we rocked out that way for a while. She was older than me by about 3-4 years and I looked up to her in a way. She had more knowledge about life, stripping, niggas, and money than I did. I was just a girl who came to the strip club to work because I wanted to. I had no other reason. With her, I continued to meet ‘celebs’ or be around them. The Colts players were the homies. We shot pool in random mansions and morphed quickly into best  friends. We smoked and drank and clubbed and flew to Super bowl in ATL to dance at the Gentlemen’s Club together. You hardly saw us without each other. At Club 54, which used to be where the Dollar Tree is in Castleton, we were VIP only and would walk in dressed up and ready to own the night. We were superstars for what it was worth. She was beautiful and I was honored that she wanted me as her girlfriend and that I could introduce her as mine. 

But I didn’t want a girlfriend. 
And I didn’t want to kiss her. I did….but it was on a dare during a slow night at the club. I also didn’t’ want to sleep together. I did. I mean, we had to right? The first time was ‘meh’ at best. The second time, we broke the ice better by taking X Pills and bringing in a third girl. Yup. I had  threesome with three women on a palette we made on the floor and danced around ….

“drunk on Cris

Mommy on E,

She can’t keep her little model hands off me” ~Jayz

Soon after our ‘rolling’ got into full effect, we were all over the floor, funning around. I still didn’t think I was convinced that this shit was a part of my life for real. I ain’t like it much. But I liked her….I never loved her beyond a friend, but I liked her as my girlfriend…….I liked her as my friend who was a girl. Not the definitions that are attached to it or the sexuality confirmations that people try to force upon you so they can be comfortable with your lifestyle. I wasn’t gay and MAYYYYYBE I was bisexual, but really, I think I was just a young woman, living life and learning what she liked VS. what she didn’t like by acting it ALL out …LOLOL!!!!!

We had a good time tho. We had a fun, free, flirty friendship.

 She bought me a plane ticket to Tampa for Super bowl for my 22nd birthday, but I was  scared to fly again. So I left her hanging.

We never recovered much after that.

She wrote me a four page letter that I no longer own (wish I did tho)….she sent it to me through a mutual friend, who gave me the letter in front of her (My GF). It was sooooo strange. We were all at the same table, waiting on the club to unlock the doors so we could leave when she gave me this letter that I started reading right there. She read me my rights. Let me know what she thought of me leaving her hanging for Tampa, and what she thought of me as a girlfriend AND a sexual being.

She read my ass. She really did and the truth is, I really hurt her. In all her hardness hustler mentality, I had managed to get beyond her walls to hurt her feelings enough that she wrote me four pages all about it. I loved her as a friend more than a girlfriend. I liked her as a girlfriend. I loved her as a person. A woman. A beautiful woman. We never had to get in the bed and sleep together or even stay nights together for me to love her as a friend. I liked that. But ….we were girlfriends. We were NOT just friends, we were girlfriends unmistakably. And so she treated me like I was and when I hurt her like a nigga, there was no room for recovery. Nothing but four pages……………………………

And then a few weeks later,

She was gone.

I don’t even remember where she moved to. I think it was somewhere in Florida.

It would be at least a year and a half or two before she came back. When she came back, I had gained weight and she called me fat and talked about me to people. They told me. It was clear we were not friends at all anymore. That hurt my feelings. But I knew how we got there. I knew the many fast-life ways that got us there…….she started dating one of the girls at the club, whom I was really cool with. That girl stopped speaking to me completely. It was crazy. I couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t talk to me, speak to me or even have eye contact with me when we were sooooo cool prior to her dating MY ex-girlfriend. -__- 

Those dynamics were bullshit.

But it was what it was.

It didn’t take long after that before I had dived back where I was most comfortable at: In heterosexual land.

Then,

I met, loved and almost died for the person who came up next. <<#MuseRandiAndi I’ve yet to blog about him.

I would never date another woman again. I don't like it. * shrug * 

I desire man -manly voice, hands, arms, forearms, thoughts, beings, dick.....i just like men. I have no regrets in finding out the active way that I don't EVER want a girlfriend....i found out the same way Samantha did in Sex in the City....trial and error. She wasn't my only. I had another one after her. And then there was someone that I wanted to date but I knew I couldn't because I can't be with a woman like that. She was also beautiful and she came into my life after I started doing poetry. No stripping, no 'that's what happens in the club' type of situation. This was real life. And I had to decide whether I wanted to stroke my ego with the fact that another beautifully smart and talented woman such as her wanted me non-sexually OR, if I would be adult enough to let her know that as beautiful as I thought she was, she would end up at a dead end with me. We ended up in the middle of that somehow. I was honest up front with her. But I obliged her courting of me and she continued to show me a dose of special mental affection and I liked it, but I knew better. She was my muse for awhile. I wrote unpublished (and some published FB Notes) poems about her......

We went so far as kissing. ....but shortly after our first and only kiss,
I think I hurt her too.
 Possibly the same night of it.
We never spoke again.
And not too long after that, she moved.

And tho we connected as FB Friends, there was little to zero communication and in the years that have passed, there has continued to be none. I'm also FB Friends' with #MuseAndra ......but we don't talk. We had one initial convo on FB of which I wished her the best and told her she was still just as beautiful as i remembered her from before. She wished me well and told me to let her know if I was ever in Miami. She seemed to be doing very well. So does the other young lady.

I guess all of us were stepping stones and momentary Lights in each other. I'm sure we inspired one another....

and it all started with that day that I was sitting on the end of the staircase that lead up to the area where table dances were given and monitored.

One night, one of the most beautiful and popular girls came and sat next to me and after speaking to me, she said: “ so you ready to be my girlfriend”

I laughed as an answer.

But eventually,

That laughter as an answer turned into laughter while in an accidental-ish relationship with one woman so beautiful that who was I to turn her down for anything? #MuseAndra

At the Roy Jones Jr Fight, taking pics w/Mystikal 

**Blogtrack change:

“Taxi driver

Be my shrink for the hour

Leave the meter running

It’s rush hour

So take the streets if you wanna

Just outrun the demons, could you?

………………

If it brings me to my knees…..

It’s a bad religion.”

Coffee in the Morning thoughts

So …..

Yesterday at my mom’s house, she was giving me the neighborhood rundown of the ever-changing area that I grew up in and have only been gone for a year from….. In the midst of this update, she rolled around to #MuseSlevin and his wife. She told me about his wife’s new car and how HE told HER (my mom) that the wife bought her own car……she went on to say how after she thought about it, she had never seen #Slevin in anything fancy in all the years we’ve known him. I confirmed. I also didn’t care to be bothered with this part of the conversation, although it didn’t put me in a bad mood or nothing. I actually wondered if she really ever had this ‘talk’ with him and if so, “WHY” ? Why on Earth would he (not she, I know my mom….she’s just a friendly country woman so …Le shrug) talk to my mother???!!!!

She also included that the ‘wife’ talks to her sometimes and their kids come down and speak and shit …..

Where on the Earth do they do these amazing things at ? I couldn’t quite figure out if this was a figment of my mom’s imagination or what. That woman knows who I am and knows this is my mother, so why would they EVER have anything to say to each other? That just doesn’t strike me as making any sense, but I also don’t put it past possibility because my mom is friendly with the people she lives around. And they live there. IN that neighborhood. In front of my mom’s house. Across from where I lived only 16 months ago. I won’t go into the logistics of WHO #MuseSlevin is…I’m sure there is a blog that explains “US” in here somewhere. I don’t know where tho. A couple I have actually privatized but let’s just recap:

He was my childhood sweetheart for whatever that is worth. We got in a relationship as adults. It didn’t work. We tried to be friends. It didn’t work. He married someone else after trying to get me back for years. They had kids. And we all lived across the street from each other for six years. 

This description doesn’t even cover the icing of our relationship, but just troll the blog for old entries for more info…

Anyway,

My mom went on to tell me that during this alleged conversation with Mr Slevin, he confessed that he still and will always love me and that we were each other’s firsts of many things. Hmmm, that’s when I stopped believing her. I don’t know why he would say these things to my mom. He was definitely my first for a lot of stuff, but I wasn’t his……………well, hmmm…I take that back. In retrospect, I was his first of many things as well, so I guess it aligns to make sense, but why would he put these things in my mom’s ear? I don’t know if I could believe this conversation ever happened. But let’s just say it did….why?  Why not leave the memory of me alone and don’t ever talk to my mom. I would prefer that. And stop confessing things that don’t fucking matter and never will again.

As a result of this strange info, I found this nigga in my dreams last night. His facebook page had pictures of his wife and confessions of his love for her. I don’t know how I became to privy to his page…I don’t think he has one in REAL life. He’s not that type of person for social media and I doubt he ever fools around with it much, if at all. Maybe to monitor his daughters or something. Idk, I doubt it. But in my dream last night, there he was.

I woke up in a great mood today.

But I felt the need to blog……………………………………………….

Saturday night, a man that I could tell was interested in me for SOMETHING (only he knows what….all I can do is assume and in attempts to not paint every person I meet with the same brush of bullshit colors, I won’t tag him w/anything I don’t know for certain) finally mustered up the courage to ask me to go out…not on a ‘date’…he made it clear that he was not shopping for a girlfriend. Fine by me…….i met him at church and like I said, I could tell he was drawn to me….he talked to me like we KNEW each other…using people’s first names who I didn’t know. I just smiled and nodded and gave him the ‘aw yeah’ proverbials. * shrug *  He was nice looking tho, I will admit that. At first glance I thought he resembled DL Hughley and he looked to be in his Mid-late 40s or so. I didn’t ask him because I didn’t care. 

* more shrugs *

Finally, after a few meetings of same place, same time, he suggested we go somewhere, his treat, and hang out and talk. I said ok. And somewhere between OK and me stretching across my bed at the time I should have been driving to meet him, I had a change of mind. I asked myself what was MY purpose for going out? Was it because I wanted to ? Did I trust myself to make good decisions? Did I trust myself to stay true to what I truly believe and not feel roped into something I don’t want to do? Did I think I knew how to firmly plant my feet on a NO and stay that way? Was I prepared if he tried to suggest or allude to sex? A woman should be prepared for that on EVERY date with a new man. Seriously, every woman should be prepared for how to handle sexual advances with a new man because they WILL try you, sometimes just to see if you will. Not even because they want to. Well, they probably definitely and always want to, but I think that’s how some men weed out the women they couldn’t like for a lifetime. They try to fuck them and if it works, depending on how soon it is, she either becomes a ho to him or a beautiful potential Queen.

I could be wrong tho. But I have been on both sides of this equation. I’ve been the ho and the queen. The one night stand and the make him wait. I’ve had sex without emotions because there is a manly part of me that has always had the strange ability. I’ve had sex and fell in love…only to end up at this blog. Bottom line, SEX is sometimes used as a weapon for both parties….it’s a sign teller. A future killer. A moan of ecstasy that halts possibilities where they lie. #DoubleEnten

But was I prepared for that? I admit to falling victim to saying NO to sex only for it to end in SEX and I got the bad label for the bad sex I never wanted. Troll the blog. You’ll get a better understanding for what I mean.

 * shrugs again *

Did I trust that I could NOT be her? And I’m not trying to subtly declare this man wanted to get me somewhere and have sex with me. That’s not what I mean. But being mentally prepared for anything feels better than me physically stepping out into the world clueless and thinking every man wants to be talk to me about poems and shooting stars. They don’t.

I lay across my bed with my face made up, taking selfies and giggling because I finally feel grounded. I feel ok. I feel healed in some areas and healing in others, but what I don’t feel is WEAK. I don’t feel un-queen like. I don’t  feel like “ok fine, I will” because he wants to. I don’t feel like ‘ok let’s just get it over with’ ….<<< And those statements could be about anything from SEX to a DATE to a phone conversation…I just don’t feel any pressure to do anything I’m not excited to go do. Period.  And that has been a LONG time coming.  

But am I TOO defensive?

Am I thinking too much into it ?

He didn’t ask to date me.

He just asked me out. But here’s the thing and here’s where my decision came:

I’m NOT thinking too hard.

I admit to being an overthinker. That was a problem with #MuseWeasel and we talked about that but the truth was, he was such a fucking liar and a true weasel who should be honored that the dick Gods haven’t sent poison through his penis, that it wasn’t about me overthinking as much as it was about him completely avoiding and disrespecting the truth.  But I digress.

I am an overthinker tho.

But not for this. I didn’t over think this and here are the reasons why:

I have energy that I want to release in the right hands. I have a desire to be made to laugh. I want to be treated like a lady, like a Queen and like someone who is out here making moves for her life and the lives of others; not a pussy with a promise of someday I’ll be someone. I’m not a pussy. I’m not MY pussy. AT ALL. My pussy hasn’t even pushed out kids, so it’s only as good as the clear water it pisses out.

I won’t be guided, directed or ran by it.  And boy oh boy are there days when I want to have a good headknocking session of fucking. There have been a couple (really just a couple) times this year that I thought back to the sexcapades that got me to this blog. The fucking was just amazing. He ho0ked me on the dick, I won’t lie #MuseWeasel. I had dopamine skeeting out of my eyes. I was meant to love him, so I don’t know how much of that was design and how much was dick, but he had me. LOCKED. And stupid.

That.cannot.EVER happen again in my life.

So the pussy don’t lie: It’s not here for male consumption right now.

I want it to be caressed when it’s made love to in a fucking way that toggles from beast mode to beautiful with the flip of a moan. That won’t happen from someone I just met. That won’t happen from someone that has no care or love for me in his heart. And I don’t trust that a man I meet is not out to fuck me.

I have some strange type of energy that people desire to attach themselves to and I’ve read about it and heard it in church several times…..so I have to have eyes open at all times and I have to have my spirit of discernment on 10 !!!!! I can’t just give away this energy anymore or this ass. But ass is easy. I can easily not give it up because I’m not actively fucking and haven’t been in so long now that it’s more fun to NOT have sex than it would be. I fear the feeling of after-sex once I do have it again if I do.  I have had it and didn’t like the after feeling. I just felt like “Ummmm, wtf did we just fuck for????”  …I didn’t feel less of a woman or queen or anything like that. I just felt like “why did this happen? Where is the REASONING to make it make sense?” It was unconnected sex that was only as good as the slightly hurtful entry and then it was like ‘eyes open, blinks, looks at dude pumping and grinding and thinks ‘ugh, gross”.  * Shrug *   But my PERSONAL LIGHT …my LIFE ENERGY….that which sustains me. My brain, the way my eyes see things, the way I process, the sound of my laughter and my truths….i desire to NOT share that with anyone. Not unless I’m impressed by him.

Told you, this blog is honest.

I’ve done this many times and have NOTHING to show for it but a blog. I love my blog but truth is, I would prefer to be writing about dogs or something….not this shit. I don’t wish this for my life. I don’t wish to be alone, but it finally clicked one day. I don’t know when exactly or why or what I did or what prayer I spoke to have this be possible, but it hit me and hasn’t left me yet: that I’m ok like this. I don’t want to share unless he’s share WORTHY.

That goes for my body.

My kisses. My energy. My time. My eye contact and conversation. My poetry. Niggas always say ‘I’m gonna have to hear you spit something then’ after hearing that I do poetry. FOH NIGGA> I’m not here for your entertainment. Shuck on this dick jive turkey! LMAO!

My smiles. My eating habits. My tip on the table for the waitress. My common respect. My decency. My thoughts. My introversion accepting the invite. All this and more.

I don’t desire to share it. Any of it. Anymore.

It’s not over thinking. It’s not bitter. It’s not bruising. It may be self-protection but it’s not a danger. I believe that if there is someone really out there, he will have no problem breaking the ice to get to Diamond. Niggas that get quickly defeated by a resting bitch face or a decline of a first date can keep it moving. I’m not over thinking because every person I meet, I have to be ok with taking in some of their energy. I have to be ok with it turning out to be a bore. Or another mistaken identity. I have to be ok with them being awesome. With me liking them and wanting to see them again. I have to be ok with them trying to have sex with me and how I plan to respond. I have to be ok with coming from behind my walls and I have to be ok with laying the groundwork and rules appropriately so there is no mistake on who I am or how to treat me in the future. I have to be ok with noticing the signs that I don’t like. I have to be ok with being comfortable and maybe even accepting a phone call. Sounds like a lot for someone who simply asked to hang out somewhere right?

If you think so, then you’ve probably never experienced half of what I have where it comes to men. If you have and still think I am overthinking, then it’s probably the fact that you haven’t experienced MY life, the way it is. * shrug *

All of this matters in the end. Dudes, men, niggas, old heads, youngins, young tenders, beefcakes, boys, guys: They all try something.

KINGS ….kings act Royal, especially when in presence of a Queen. He need not TEST her to see if she’s a queen. He knows instantly. He could view her no other way.

I’m not declaring the person I met to not be a King. I’m just saying there was nothing about my royalness that desired to connect further with his. He’s still nice looking….

But I don’t want to share….i just want to live and be and enjoy life and if I stumble upon someone, I pray that he is that person that won’t have a single issue with pursuing me …I pray he notices instantly that I am not a child or a scorned woman. Rather, I am a woman who requires more than ‘hey baby’ to be impressed. Matter a fact, I pray that he wants to impress me because he wants me.

“These moments and vibrant hues

Word play, turns into gun play

Gun play turns into pillow talk

Pillow talk turns into sweet dreams

Sweet dreams turn into Coffee In the Morning.
I don’t wanna wake you

I just wanna watch you sleep.”

~Miguel, Coffee in the Morning

I want that. OR NOTHING ELSE. I want to connect with he who wants that. OR NOTHING ELSE.

These fly by niggas can suck dick in real life. One chance ass niggas. Niggas who if y0u don’t return their text or phone calls, you never hear from them again. They don’t try to be where you are, they don’t put forth effort or the effort they put forth was actually effort YOU created and sowed into them, and they give it one shot and dismiss it. Niggas that have no intentions on seeking you out. Niggas that have enough women that it doesn’t matter who don’t jump when they say so….because another one is around the corner. These are all fly by niggas. I don’t want them.

I’ve had them before.

Their whorish ways and exuberant lies are detrimental to the health of women everywhere. Emotional and physical…..

I’m goooood.

I’ve met a couple of those recently….they don’t put up a fight or nothing. They accept that plans didn’t work and they forget. I accept that, but I don’t need to collect another person to forget me or show me how much effort he feels like I’m NOT worth.

And I feel in my heart of hearts that the person who will NOT treat me with such disdain for my Reign will be easy to spot out and take notice of due to his actions. That much I am sure of.

And that is why I don’t feel compelled to accept ever date or offer to ‘treat me’ to a drink ….or some food. I don’t have to. I do it for myself and I don’t say that in an ‘independent woman’ type of way, I say that because it’s TRUTH! I do these things for myself more than occasionally …So it’s not exciting or impressive to have them done for me. Sure I want to be dated and treated and all that jazz, but um, idk what the problem with impressions are but I’ve been left less than impressed with most dudes.

And after all this,

All this blogging and loving and hurting and rebounding,

I just like being as is. It’s not because I have gotten ‘accustomed’ to it or used it …it’s not me trying to convince me. It’s a fact that I have thought about a lot recently, especially when I come home from work on these warm evenings and lay in the bed on chill. Sure, it would have been amazing to have someone tell me how beautiful and flawless I looked Saturday after the ball and how he was blessed to be in my presence, but that’s not what happened and yet I still felt beautiful and felt blessed to be in my own presence.

I’m not hurting for a date no more.

I still think the ‘offers’ to date me or take me out or few and far in between, but I don’t feel compelled to jump at them for sake of saying I got a boo. LOl. FUCK A BOO.  Boo hoo cry me a river…I don’t want a boo or a bae. I want a grown ass King with a throne waiting to be sat next to. Fuck the dumb shit…..

But truthfully speaking, where I am mentally: I’m 100% sure I don’t want a relationship right now. 

And I’m unapologetic about it all.

I stood the dude up. * Shrug *  I did. I know that wasn’t right or even good karma, but hey, it happened.

But I woke up content and happy that there were no bad decisions made and that I didn’t spend the night talking to someone I wanted to get away from or wasn’t vibing with. I’m just not even ready for that shit right now. I’m in such a GREAT mental space that I don’t want to ‘chance’ or risk it all crumbling because I threw myself in the man ring of fire only to come out burned.

I don’t want to chance my negative HIV/STD tests. I don’t want to coerce a man into wearing a condom. I don’t want to like someone and get let down cause he lives with his mom or dad and we too fucking old for that shit. I don’t want to get hurt, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to be obligated to phone talking or texting back at a reasonable time. I don’t want any of this madness.

I just want to be on planes, kiss my dogs, love my family and friends and get closer to God.

That’s it.

It’s taken a lot to get here but I’m truly in a place I am ok with.

I can hear my mom tell me that my ex claims that he will always love me and it not upset me. I can wake up from a subconscious that plays nigga mind games while I’m sleep and not be in a bad mood all day about it. I ain’t checking no one’s IG page or playing part time detective. I ain’t dealing with lies or misunderstandings or apologies for actions that will happen again. I am not making mistakes or creating holes that I can’t fill unless I - - - 

I’m not saying no with a yes action. I’m not holding in my true thoughts. I’m not cheating or being cheated on. I’m happy.

I’m happy as a single woman who happens to be a #LegendaryBlackGirlRocking

Who would NOT want a chance to meet her and see who she is?

The answer: MANY.

The problem with that: NONE.

#IWIN

You don’t have to take people’s advice of “JUST GO AND HAVE A GOOD TIME” You don’t have to …there is nothing wrong with turning down a date or a ‘good time’ or a ‘treat on him’ if you don’t want to.

And there is nothing wrong with being SELFISH with your energy.

*Blogsong Perfectly Lonely, John Mayer* 

Arizona

Blogtrack: Baby I'm A Star, Chrisette Michele 

""I seen it, done it, ran it, run it,

been to the bottom and I came back from it

that'll be a pain in the pit of my stomach

don't regret at thing just to keep it 100 

I been the drama and the bad news

I been the struggle and the damn blues

shed tears over silliness

seen a lot blow up, as real as it really good gets"

So….here’s the blog that was supposed to have been written but I didn’t. I regurgitated what I had said many times in prior blogs just so I could meet my deadline…somewhat. <<<Must improve on that.

The day I wrote the anniversary blog, I was on such a high of the fact that I really have made it that I don’t think I could concoct the blog I expected on that particular day. But I guess it still needed to be said. I mean, I still meant and mean all of it, it’s just that I felt like I was forcing myself to write something and I did, but it didn’t necessarily reflect what I intended for the ‘anniversary blog’ to reflect upon….so let’s try that again.

It’s been over a year now….to say I’ve ‘made it’ is another repetitive statement that can be counter-challeneged by the notion that some days, some blogs seem to reflect a woman still in an emotional turnout, not necessarily about a particular muse, but rather the idea as a whole that love alludes me. Yes, I know this.

I know me ;)

But it’s true. I have come a long way and I do feel completely different than I did when I first took to writing this blog. I have emotionally stepped forwards and backwards as well. I admit that I am all too familiar with this dance and that sometimes, out the clear blue of the night sky, one of these muses will greet me in a blurry dream that I can’t manage to remember the next day; but man can I feel the scent of them creeping thru my morning nostrils. It sucks. But I am no longer being led by dreams all day long or caught up in the tangle and web and emotional misery of the past.  I have my days like any woman does, but am I happy? Yes. I am. I am at an odd peace with being single. It’s odd because I never felt this peace before because I’ve never had to come to terms with it. I get it. I get why it’s like this and why things have had to happen the way that I have and I no longer have any regrets, INCLUDING (but not limited to) #MuseWeasel. Which is a big step and a big fuckin deal and yes, I guess I needed to say it again in that last blog. So, moving forward…..

…..i have wondered how to do this.

How can I keep recalling these memories and they NOT bring me back to a bad or negative space? How can jogging my mind and pulling these  toads from it’s riverbanks not produce a nasty energy within me?

Truth is, I don’t know. I haven’t figured that part out yet. But, I have thought some other things. As I evolve, this blog definitely should. It shouldn’t continue to reflect a woman who was only weeks ago identifying herself as bitter…..that is until she heard herself say it out loud to some other women and just hated it. I mean I HATED the way that sounded…..i knew what it meant:

It meant they broke me.

The muses.

If I was bitter, if I was so bitter that I would speak it out loud to other people, then they had won the war. They broke me. I’m not a bitter woman. Life, death and crazy things in between have happened to me, but bitter is a trait I never managed to pick up and carry forward. So I mentally abandoned it after that…I figured whatever it took to implant that notion in my head hard enough to make claim it as ME, it would only take the same sense of urgency to get rid of it. So I did. I haven’t said it since then and I don’t claim to be.

….now about this blog…and moving forward.

I’m going to allow #AMuseD to grow and mold and morph right along with me. I’m not going to stop anything from being posted but I’m not going to set out to be moody or negative. Which was the initial point. I didn’t create this so that I could talk about  flowers on ‘good’ days…nah.

I came to vent dammit.

And I still will. I will still recall the best stories that I think might resonate with someone who may be reading, but I will definitely open the sides of this spectrum to be shown. I will add some color to this blog …and if you’ve been around long enough and read the blog about #MuseHotRod, then you know there are some more than humorous moments in my dating life that deserve to be documented for sheer laughter’s sake. So I will bring that as well…..

But I will still reflect the same woman who is growing. The woman who is coming more and more into her own…I think sometimes, the devil has me tell myself that no one was meant for me…..that I am going to live my life alone because why wouldn’t I ? And much like the ‘bitter’ claim, I start saying it and allowing myself to believe it and then I start getting mad because it’s simply not fucking fair!!!! I know I’ve said that before, but it’s not fair that, if true, I would be created for no one. Seems like such a disservice.  I give myself permission to believe that I am not pretty enough, good enough, doing enough or undamaged enough to be able to receive someone…..but in my heart, behind the shattered and jarred pieces, lies a hint of belief. Possibly a mustard seed. I have seen God move so many mountains and seas in my life that how dare I not believe in the magic that S(H)e provides? There is possibility out there?

But here’s the thing now:

I’m seriously no longer seeking it. I’m no longer being led by it or ‘craving’ it. I do WANT it, still. I always will of course. But, I am so involved in other things and trying to get better with my walk with God and trying to really exert myself and my art to maximize my time on Earth that I simply don’t have time to be mad about a ‘man’….Shit, not having one is one less complication. Then there are those days when shit happens and I wish someone was just a phone call away to come help me. I don’t want a roommate, but someone I could call on – that would be nice sometimes. ….

He’s not there

He does not exist in my life right now and I have broken those chains that held me captive. I no longer feel like a slave to love’s directions. I am not a lost woman in her 20s or 30s trying to figure out which man will offer me a glimpse into the space between love and life….i don’t care….As much as I do care, I don’t. These niggas ain't shit yo....straight up. They approach you wrong, have ill intent, no intent, fuck-intent.....
fuck their intentions.
I don't have time for the games that these dudes play and until I am graced by the presence of an actual MAN, then wth am I even whining for? Whining cause I can't have a headache? LMAO!!
Whining cause ain't nobody dry begging or secret fucking? Whining cause my HIV test was negative in a world of men who still want to fuck w/no condom despite the AIDS rates? 
L
o 
l
 ....sure the men i loved once have either gone on to get married to the women they were meant to do that act with or they have just disapeared off into the abyss of life, but what difference does that even make? They have given me MANY reasons and ways to write. So what if no dude is trying to 'holla' at me...NOTE: I don't want to be 'holla'd at. I'm too old for that shit. I want to be approached. But so what if it ain't happening...i still step out my house as often as possible like I own the world....you know why? 
Cause i'm beautiful...i'm internally beautiful and if it doesn't radiate to anyone else, it IS their loss and I AM accepting that. I am NOT going to sit back and cry cause niggas is losing. 
NIGGAS SHOULDN"T BE WINNING.
Men win. 
Shit. 
* soapbox falls apart, music comes on* 
" don't act like you don't know the name
Ain't nuttin changed but my change, I'mma stay the same"

~Mike jones

The day will come when they start checking for me again....And i will be so solid in my foundation of not checking for them that they will have to have God's light surrounding them in order to penetrate my glow. It's not a wall. It's not a barrier. I'm not blocking myself. I'm just not impressed and I have figured out that not being impressed ain't shit to be crying about. 

Back then, they didn't want me.
I just want to live and I’m doing it. I’ll be out of here one week to the other side of the country.  Mannnn that is so exciting!!!!!!!!!

How great would it be to share it with someone!? But the fact I get to share it with someone as great as myself is even better. I can take my book and read in places I’ve never read before….and take pics I’ve never taken, see things and touch streets that have never spent a day in my life…..i am working with these beautiful young ladies on their Princess Ball coming up this Saturday …..it’s been so fulfilling for my spirit…it’s let me HELP prevent in their lives some of the things that have happened in mine because no one told me differently. ….

Yeah.

I must say I have been feeling fulfilled. Almost fearfully because how dare I have a good life? It seems so impossible…but I think what my problem has been is being so used to having bad things happen, and being so down about them for long that I have allowed negative RUN my life….negative will ALWAYS show it’s face somewhere in our lives. …It’s apart of what makes the earth spin. 

Something always has to happen to remind us of how blessed we have been in the past and if we look at it appropriately, bad will  give us a peek of how wonderful of a future we are heading into.

I want to look at life like that.

I want to find a church to go to twice a month. Got to do baby steps and I don’t know, I guess I should just ask God myself, but I think that is ok. I’ve been praying for a trustworthy spiritual group of folks around me and I believe that people have been placed right in front of my eyes since then. So I see all this sunshine all around me.

I don’t have time to be mad or hurt or dwelling somewhere in the past’s cellar. Waiting to be conjured up through the blank space in my eyes while I’m drifting off from a dream when I should be getting out of bed, smiling, praising and moving around. I just want to be loved appropriately. I’m still not ‘convinced’ so to speak that there IS someone out there waiting to meet me, but I still know that I am rather awesome woman so it SHOULD be….either way, he’ll show his face at the right time.

Or I will spend my life living. ..until it’s up.

IN the meant time, the blog will reflect the people and places of my past as it always has, but also the beauty of knowing the future is bright and the peace of growth.

Of expansion.

Of light. So I can't say for 100 what exactly that means.... I may talk about that time I went out on a date and almost fell off the treadmill because i set it at 15 mph or I may talk about #MuseRanidiee ....he was the one who's daughter I was helping to raise (she's about to be a sophmore in college now)...we spent a big chunk of life together but I do not believe he has made a guest appearance in this blog....

I might go into my problems with dating other artists....

or i might talk about what happened with the white guy....or what church I decided upon ....

I don't know.
This is going to be a best seller. So it's not a journal....it's not strategic, but I do know the intent is business oriented. So stay tuned...more will follow>....you may like the direction!

"So tonight's a celebration 

raising a toast to me being healthy " 

I feel more in love today than I ever have. And I think it’s because I am finally in space where loving me  just seems like the perfect thing to be doing. 

"I found God

on the corner of 1st & Amistad

where the west

was all but won

all alone

smokin his last cigarette

i said 'where you been'

he said 'ask anything' "