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Thursday, May 29, 2008

Make Me Feel Good.

This picture seems to capture my mood for this post exactly, and it's called, "Feeling Good: Male" by Geoffrey Sinckler.

When people are down and out. They have different ways of dealing, with it. Sometimes it's good and constructive things, but sometimes their vices can be self-destructive. Sometimes they drink, some people do severe narcotics, some people smoke a little weed..I have a friend who any kind of stress or downing situation comes his path, a blunt goes into his mouth, some people get a few pints of Ben and Jerry's, with a box of Oreos dipped in frosting or something, and let the tears cry them to sleep, into their ice cream. Now sometimes people celebrate the same way they sulk. I know people who drink to celebrate good times, and they drink to drown out bad times. The only difference is one might be with others, and the bad times are usually alone, in the dark. Since I really don't drink or do any kind of narcotics, even smoking weed or blunt; my thing for a pick me up, when I'm down, is one of the oldest vices, SEX!

Now things in my family the past few weeks, have not been good. It's been one thing after the other. Everybody is going through something. That's understandable, that's life. However, when the stink of other peoples bull shit, starts to drift off into the rest of our lives, then buddy we have a problem. It has been just drama and pain, and whatnot, for the past few weeks. The issue I had with my mother, might have been fueled by other things that is going on in our family. Even though I go around telling people, not to let other peoples lives affect you, I personally can't seem to follow that advice.

Well one day, when I was feeling especially down, I told myself, Self I know what would cheer you up, some good sex. I called this guy that I know, from around the way, called Hostess. He's a nice guy, not really my type but sweet and nice. He's nice and I know I'm just repeating myself, but I really don't have a better way to describe him. He's a hostess at some restaurant, I think IHOP, Bob Evans, or maybe Denny's. I can't remember which one, it's somewhere that serves breakfast. I think it's Bob Evans or IHOP, because I think those are the only two that really have a hostess, Denny's I think you seat yourself. Not sure only been to a Denny's like once. And yes I said Hostess. I remember that, because he is so proud of that position, because they usually give that position to a girl, but they knew he was the better person for the job, his words, not mine. I would have thought it would be host or Maitre d'. However I never heard a restaurant use the word host, and based off the nature of these restaurants, I know he wouldn't be called a Maitre d' that. Anyway he uses the word hostess... I've gotten off the track.

I really don't think I could see hostess, as more than what we are now. He's not boyfriend material for me at least, and I wouldn't exactly call him a friend with benefits, but just a guy who I know with skills. Plain and simple. The things he can do, with his tongue, just magical. The only thing is he has this thing about his hair. He's Puerto Rican, and he has these curls. No matter what position he is in, he's worried about messing up his hair. He's worse than a black woman. There was one time , I just wanted him to throw a scarf on it already, and call it a night, lady. This is the thing I don't understand, he puts this gel, spray, or something...not quite sure, that holds those curls, like steel. It be so hard and crunchy, it so unbelievable. Those curls aren't going anywhere, but you can't tell him that.

Anyway we got together, and I just knew that a dynamic orgasmic climax was going to get me straight, and back on track, mood wise. Now I would never confuse what we have as passionate. I have been with some passionate people, and it's hot. I don't feel like he's necessarily passionate. he's just more so... very thorough. Everywhere. He's more of a sexual people pleaser, I guess you can say. I guess that's why I decided to hook up with him, for the night.

Here's one thing, I don't know why I said it...well I know why I said it, but I don't know why I verbally expressed what was on my mind, but I actual said, "Make me feel good." It hurts my stomach even right now. I don't think he picked up on the Halle Berry'esque line, and I didn't until the ride home. I was thinking Oh my God, did I really say that, but the thing is, its what I was really feeling, at the time. I think I understand where her character in Monster's Ball was feeling. Not saying I was going through what her character was going through, but I could relate that when things are down sometimes you just want somebody to make you feel better, if only sexually.

While we were having sex. Although I had physical signs of my arousel, on some other level I just couldn't get into it. Hostess was on his game as usual, but it just wasn't enough. I feel like my mind was in another place or something. Which it probably was. I just needed more or something. Although it was feeling good, and I did climax, and had a slight orgasm. Immediately right after, nothing. I felt nothing but hollow, and not better, but just the same, if not worse. Thank God it doesn't take much to please him, in that he gets enjoyment pleasing others, and that I really didn't have to worry about him. He asked me, "What was wrong with you?" I replied with I'm cool. I left not to long after that.

On my ride home, I just kept thinking about things and life. I was thinking about what happen that night, and and the other issues, in my life. I thought about the first time I found out, how sex could have an effect on my feelings. It was one night in the fall of 2006, and I met this guy. I met him on a particularly bad day, can't remember why it was bad, but it was. Even though it was late in the evening, when we met, we connected on different levels, and we eventually hooked up, that night. I remember walking way feeling great. I remember whispering to him, why he slept, that he really gave me something I needed. As strange as it may seem, I today, don't really know what it was, that he gave me, but it was needed.

I even went home after leaving Hostess, and thinking about fall 2006, and searching all over, for that guys business card. I still had it, but I couldn't find it. I looked everywhere. I never called him back, like I told him I would, but kept his card, as a you never know, type of thing. When I couldn't find it, it occurred to me, what would I say if, I did call him. "Hey do you remember me from a year and a half ago. You made me feel better one night, when we had sex, can you do it again?"

It then hit me. Maybe I need more than sex now. First I guess I should have sought refugee in my spirituality. I should have went to God first, before seeking anything man can do. Next, I think that maybe I need more than a physical gratification, but a mental, spiritual, perhaps maybe even a... dare I say... emotional connection, as well as physical one. I don't know what I can call it, but I think I want someone, who can be there for me, on all those levels. I think I'm ready.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Walk in my shoes for a change...Oh that's right you have!

It's been a minute since I last blogged. There has been a lot going on. I have sorta been depressed about certain things in my family, and to be honest didn't feel like talking or even typing about it, in my recent refuge, my blog. However I think I'm ready to get back into the swing.

When we are children, and are parents do things, that we feel was unfair or unjust, the things that so many of us say as a child, is "When I have kids one day, I would never do that or this." It amazes me of how things change when we actually have kids. Those words seem to vanish, as well as the memories of what it felt like at that age. That empathy seems to decrease at every birthday.

Last Monday I had started to write about my Mother's Day weekend. I didn't finish my post, because something came up, and I was going to get to it later. Unfortunately I tend to start many post, then don't finish, and next time I have moved on to a new subject. Anyway, a situation arose between me and my mother before I could come back and finish my post. Me and my mother can go from 0 to 180 in like no time. We have always been gifted in that way. I had named my Mother's Day post " I love you Mom, but..." Even though I was talking about something else. It seems to capture my relationship with her so much, and this situation. It started with one comment. I was telling her how I was helping someone, in a way better themselves. Well at least in my opinion; I thought it was a step forward at least. My mother being the forever pessimist. Made a comment about the outcome being disastrous for me. Now it would be one thing if she said things in a way, where it at least seemed like it was out of love or concern. However I don't think she has that ability when it comes to me. Now I know she means well, and she loves me, but her comments of concern...I guess you can call it, feels like its just pure negativity.

This pissed me off. It makes me mad that she talks about hope and faith at church, but doesn't seem to have to much of it of her own, at least not for people...god maybe. Everything is always taken to the negative. She calls it being real and telling it like it is. Now I understand that she has been through a lot in her lifetime, that has probably shaped this point of view, but sometimes enough is enough. She is always telling me how she is willing to help someone, if they are willing to help themselves. The thing is she never thinks anyone is really trying to help themselves. I told her that she always sees things as the glass is half empty, if it has anything at all in. She is never optimistic about anything. I told her that...or more like I didn't ever want to here her talk about faith and hope again, because she knows nothing about it.

Now we also have this ability to move from one subject to another, in that same argument. We some how go from that to how I always disagree, with anything she says. Now I can very well say the same thing for her. Which of course I did say. More arguing later, when get to the biblical quotes I have been hearing my whole life, "Honor thy mother and father, that our days may be long... or Obedience is better than sacrifice..." We argue some more, than that leads to both of us yelling. Which ends in me being slapped down...Twice!

I stormed off and drove even faster off. When I get that ultimate level of anger and hurt. I don't want to speak or talk to anyone. I especially didn't talk to her for several days. Not a word. I heard how she called a few family members, to casually ask, if they heard from me, and how she was concerned, but of course I never got a phone call. We eventually started to talk again, but for some reason, I feel like this really changed us, and not for the good. I truly feel like I can't tell her anything about my life and doings and probably won't.

Now before I continue let me tell you a story, that my mother told me once. This was when she was 19 years old, a little younger than I am now. How her and my grandfather was coming back from church, one evening. My grandfather was a no nonsense kind of guy, when it came to his children growing up. I have heard many times of the, he never had to ask you twice to do anything. You knew what would happen if he did. As they became adults that change, slowly though, more so when they had kids. Well anyway, they were coming home from some meeting at church. My grandfather was a pastor. They were discussing something, not even arguing, when my mother disagreed with something he said, and he stopped the car, and slapped her, and made the comment "Don't sass me, girl!" Anyway that was enough for my mother to pack her bags that night, in the late 60s, and got on the bus the next day and moved to Washington D.C., to live with family friends. For the 6 months, she was gone, their relationship was strained. My mother was his youngest daughter, and from what people have said, she was like his road dawg, back in the day, in the church. So her moving like that tore him up. Well one night when my mother was almost attacked, or who knows what else could have happened one night, if it wasn't for her quick thinking... when she was walking home from her job. When my grandfather got word of this, he called her and apologized, and asked her to come back home, to southern Virginia. He told her how he was out of line about what he did, and that he needed to respect that she was a grown woman not a child, with a mind of her own. She of course did move back.

Now this seems oddly familiar, different characters, same plot. The only thing is she didn't apologize to me really. When does it happen, that we forget where we are from, and the shoes we use to where. Will it happen, that if I ever have kids, I will do the same? Is that just the progression of life.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Fight of the Century!

Created by one one my favorite female bloggers, the wonderful Lady Nay, the theme for this month is your Most Rememberable Fight...Or If You Were in a Fight...Something about fighting.

I would definitely be classified, as a lover not a fighter. I have my temper point, but I never really express it in fists or punches. To be honest I'm not even sure, if I am a lover than a fighter. I think you would classify me more as a fight spectator/commentator. I was that guy, who some how, had front row seats to whatever fight was going on at the time. In elementary school, I was fortunate enough to have, two of the most anger issued boys in my class Brittle and Colin. The one thing about these boys, is they really didn't like each other. So every other week, they were going at each other, physically. I was always there on the side line, with a gleam in my eye. As they got older Colin I believe took his anger, and directed it towards sports. Brittle had a little to much of an anger issue, and with countless run-ins with his family and younger brother, and teachers, and classmates, was taken out of school for a while, and I believe put in therapy for his anger issues. When he came back, he was a new kid. It's weird seeing a a 12 year older practicing his anger exercises. He would be rocking as if he was loosing his mind, not to be able to just knock someone out, counting to relieve his tension. He eventually became as teachers called him, their sweetheart, because therapy eventually made him a lot more passive.

As I moved up towards high school I became more of my element, and became the true Fight Commentator. I had to have first and up close sight of the fight at hand. If I saw a fight brewing. I would push and shove to be up front. I don't know why, but middle school, seemed to be the fight time. High school I barely saw fights, in my four years, but middle school, was fight central. They always seemed to fall in my lap. I remember this one time. I was at my locker, after lunch. Which was right beside this one white girl's locker named Desiree. I don't remember what Desiree said at lunch to this black girl named Kiki...I think her name was. Anyway Desiree was one of those white girls, who thought she was black or something. She said something wrong out the side of her month and Kiki, went at her. All I felt was the wind as she attaked her, turned around as she was whuppin' Desiree's tail. However, Desiree got one good swing in, and it was all over for her. When she got that punch in, Kiki's friend Charlene, who was watching like the rest of us, was like "All Hell No! I got your back Kiki" Now Kiki didn't need no help she was doing a bang up job as it was. However both girls tagged teamed on her. The teachers came out their classrooms, to see the commotion and stop the fight. By the time they got to them Kiki had Desiree's by her hair. As the teachers pulled the girls apart, they neglected to pry Desiree's hair from Kiki's hand, so as they pulled the girls apart, Desiree was being dragged across the floor by her hair. Afterwards, there was blond hair scattered all over the hall floor. When Desiree came back to school 7 days later, she wore her hair in a ponytail, for quite some time...LOL I have no idea where any of those girls are now. My guess about Desiree is that she has a biracial baby with a convict, and is a stripper...For real I bet money on it, that's what she's up to. Now that I think about it most of the fights in middle school were between girls vs. girls. I wonder why...

I of course was first on the story, in my following periods, the bus, and the next day the people the blow by blow of what happened. I animated punches and faces, and actual comments from all involved parties. I was a true natural Howard Cosell (not sure if spelled right). If you wanted the real deal, and accurate, yet lively recap of any fight I was your man.

However, that bitch Irony and Karma did strike me once in the eighth grade. I did get involve in one altercation. It was during 1st period, actually right before 1st period. I was in Algebra I class, and sitting in a kid's desk, named Brian, talking to my friend "Jaws". Anyway as the class was coming in from their lockers, bus, and wherever, Brian came over to his desk, as was like "Get out, my desk!" Now me and Brian, really never had any beef or problems, so this to me took me back, so I went to my old safety, joking. I made some joke, and whatnot. I don't remember what I said exactly, but Brian was in no joking mood, and pushed my head, and repeated "Get Out!" I got up and my "friend" Jaws, asked me was I just going to let him do that. I pushed him back. Jaws, with his big mouth said mockingly to Brian "Ouch, Brian!"

POW! one quick undercut to my nose. Brian had swung, and didn't miss. I was shocked. I was like did I really just get hit in the nose. I truly didn't see that coming. I was a little dazed. I meaninglessly tried to punch him back. He did a quick duck and move maneuver, and then did a double something again right to center of my face. As I was trying to compose myself, and stop staggering around, my teacher realized what was happening, and yelled at both of us, which I had never heard her do, before. The whole moment seemed surreal. Before I knew it she had grabbed both of our hands, and took us straight to the Principal's office, which was right across the hall from that particular classroom. I was sitting in the Front office still thinking to myself, Did I just get hit in the nose multiple times, and that blood running from my nose. How the in hell did this happen? Next thing I know I'm leaving the office with Brian, and a sheet of paper informing my parents that I was suspended for two days, for fighting. Why I got suspended, and I was the one who got beat up, still amazes me. But at that time they suspended both parties regardless. While you get beat up, you should think of another alternative to letting yourself get beat.

I was so embarrassed by the whole thing, especially about getting beat. I just wanted to go home after that. Some how I made it through that day. Since it was in the classroom, and only a little over half the class had arrived, it didn't get around that much. Jaws met up with me at lunch, and was like, "Man he got you... What made you fight him?" and I was fool are you serious, you instigated the whole thing. I was more pissed at him than anyone. It was the day before thanksgiving break, so my suspension, didn't start until the following Monday. I waited till like Sunday night to tell mom, no need in ruining a perfectly cool break, with bad news. She was cool though, I had never been in trouble before, so she was alright.

When I got back a few people questioned me, because they really didn't know. I took this as my advantage to spin my truth to the story. I told people that it was pretty even , and that the teacher stopped it, before anyone could win. I kept that story , for the rest of the year. One guy who came to me, and knew the truth, was one of Brian's good friend at the time, Tony. Tony came to me, as was like he thought it was wrong for what Brian did. I was stunned, because it was his friend and he wasn't even there. He went to say that Brian knew I was in disadvantage of him. Pissed by his assumption, yet truth. He continued to tell me that Brian had been taking boxing classes, for a while, and trained all the time. I couldn't believe it, that's why he had all the moves. Needless to say me and Brian didn't have much to say for the rest of the year. I don't know what happened to him, except that he failed 8th grade that year, and didn't continue to High school, with the rest of us. I know it's wrong, but I felt vindicated!

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I'm really feelin the Boy's at this Moment...Surprise!, Surprise!

Out with the Old Moments...

Ms Badu never fails. Can't wait for Part Two, that comes out in July of this year.

"The way that I love you" really has me pump for Ashanti album, more than any of her previous albums, which surprises me. I love the song.

Tired of this Jodeci boys, so I will be putting them out of rotation, period, for awhile.

In with the New Moments....
I'm really feeling the boys right now, I guess I need a man's voice and thoughts.

Dewayne Woods comes with this highly inspiring, and moving album. I have been banging this joint for a minute, and based on some of the things personally, I'm going through, it feels like it's written for me. I'm going to Let Go!

If you haven't heard of Ryan Leslie, and his new single "Diamond Girl" then you will definitely in the future. Remember you heard it here first, he's the next big thing, and this song is off the chain.
At this moment I truly have two jams of the moment, "Let Go" speaks to me. I love this song and hum it all the time.I'm just going to Let Go, and in a way let God take control, of situations and problems.

After watching a lot of New Edition weekend, on VH1 Soul, I have been really jonesing for some Ronny, Bobby, Ralph, Johnny, Ricky, and Mike. However I haven't been able to find one of my favorite throwback album, I wanted N.E. Heartbreak. So I'm rocking the next best thing, Bell Biv Devoe's Poison.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Bling, shined for me... for the moment.

My current Book of the Moment, book review, for Bling!

I've had the book, Bling, for some time now, maybe one or two years, but I had never really gotten around to reading it. Call it forgetfulness, or having other things to read more important, or the 500 pages of discouragement, I just never got around to it. However, do to a lack of any good new fiction I wanted to read, I went to my old book shelve and pulled this new to me, gem out.

In this book Erica Kennedy, takes us on an inside look, of the under goings, of the music industry, and the true makings of a star. I found it to be loosely based on several recognizable persona's, and music personalities. From the main character, the Mariah-esque, Mimi Jean, to the Tommy Mattola/P.Diddy-ish, playboy Lamont Jackson, the president of hip hop label Triple Large Entertainment. Lamont Jackson is desperate to become the head of Augusta Music (Arista), now that Irv Greene (Clive Davis) is being pushed out to early retirement. So he needs a dynamic female singer to soften his rapper line-up and push him to the head of the list, which brings us to the main character Mimi. If you don't see some of the blatant similarities, than you must have your head in the sand.

The book takes us on the up rise of, Mimi the small town biracial, twenty year old, vocal power house, who is brought to New York, and molded into a super star. Lamont meticulously guilds his protege`, in every detail from what she sings, to where she appears and appears with, to what she wears, to even how her hair is styled. He enlists her newly appointed best friends, Former Super model Vanessa de LaCruz, and Socialite Party-girl Lena Whitaker (perhaps a more black Nicole Richie like), to help in his world-wind makeover. While using her to help create a broader music spectrum, he falls for her and takes us on the ride of the boss turned lover roller coaster. It's that typical what is the price of fame, and the upside and downside of becoming a star, and losing yourself...blah blah blah.

Erica Kennedy, a former entertainment reporter, in my opinion did a bang up job, on showing us the inside of the music industry, hip-hop or not. We are shown the glamorous and gritty side of the industry, from the glitz of the business to the financial benefits and downfall of it all. I really felt I was shown a light to it all.

I did assume that with like over 400, going on 500 pages, that this book would have a lot of down and more event less parts, however I was never bored. There was always some sort of spicy going on. Although, there was many characters to keep up with, and there back story. Like the rapper line-up, to some of Lamont's right hand men, to his rivals like Gambino (Irv. Gotti) head of Hitz, Inc. (Murder Inc.) and his music crew. I chopped that up to what the actual industry is like. There is a lot of people and things, that go into the music celebrities, that we are familiar with. There is more that goes into making a star, than just them recording an album, and making a video. This book gives you a funny and interersting view and shows you what and how, to it all.

I give it a recommend!

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Down with the dick stick, and Up with the barbells!

It's official, I need to get a new hobby or distraction, that will take the place of men, because I've had it, with them. I really need t o find a new out source for my sexual energy. I need to find a positive distraction to sex.

This past week, I have encountered two men, that I wanted to get busy with. They were truly completely different. The first one was an uber' DL guy. I really didn't get that he was down with men, until we got back to his place. I initially started talking, when I mentioned something about him wearing a three piece suit, in the middle of the week, with know where dressy to go. He claims, that's how he dressed all the time...yada yada yada. The thing is he talked a lot. From his wife who he has been separated from, not divorce, for over 14 years (longer than they were actually together) to his two girlfriends... to the church he attends and plays for...too the band he plays his job...the list goes on. He started talking about he just moved. He was sure if he made the right decision, and whatnot... long story short he wanted me, to see his new place. I wasn't sure at first, just met him, but I was getting those vibes in my gut. That DL radar thing I got, so I was like okay. When we get to his place, he starts acting weird, like he's not sure he wants me there. Its a row of first floor apartments, that I'm not completely sure, what look like on the inside, because his electric wasn't turned on yet, and it was night. All I could see was the couches, and boxes, because he kept the front door open, like he was scared. He was acting scared, and he had been the one who insisted... and I mean insisted I see it. His attitude of acting like he didn't want me there had been enough, so I was like you seem uncomfortable, of me being here, so I think I should leave. He was standing right at the door. He had never left that area. He just kept looking outside, like someone, was looking at us. He shut the door fast, as was like..."No, don't leave!" I was like why do you want me to stay, and why did you want me to come over here. Once again back to that uncomfortableness, he's like, do you ever mess with guys. In my mind, I'm like I knew it! I respond with a maybe, why? He unzips his pants, and digs in it, and pulls my hand to his dick.

Now let me say this was not a big man. He looked like he weighed every bit of $1.20. He was very slim, and not that tall. He suit jacket looked to be about a 38. However, what he lacked in size in his overall body, he made up for between the legs. I was pleasantly surprised. He brought my hand to his semi, for me to hold. There was another surprise, he had so much pre-cum going on, that you would have thought he had came all ready. So immediately I got excited in my private areas. I decided to take my time, now that I knew for sure he got down.

Now I asked him, had he done this before, just trying to feel him out, as to what he was comfortable with. He started freaking out, about me asking to much questions, and that he had neighbors. Now I was pissed off by this, because I barely spoke, compared to that chatter box, that night. Now that we are back at his place, he didn't want me to say a thing. We were already whispering, and was in the privacy of his own apartment. Every once in a while he would mention random dumb stuff, like he used to screw his neighbors girlfriend, back in the day. I let the talking comment override, as I tried to relax him. However, me touching him any other place, other than his dick, tensed him up even more. He didn't want to go over to the couch, he just wanted us to do whatever, right there near the door, so he could see through the close draperies, if anyone was coming, and might catch 3 in the morning... with a door that had two locks and a chain. By every minute I was getting more and more frustrated, because it was him who came on to me. Although I'm frustrated I decide to go ahead, and give him a little sample, of what I got, thinking maybe that would calm him. Even though his dick is out, I go to unbuckle his plants, and let his pants down all the way. His butt freaks out on me again, saying that his dick is already out, and that what if someone comes to his door and his pants are down, with a guy, in the house. I look at him, like are you crazy. I calmly grab my jacket, push him aside, and walk out to my car and leave, as he stands on his porch watching me.
It's one thing to be on the DL, but it's another thing to be so uptight about it, that you can't even relax enough, to really enjoy the experience.

The next guy, was the complete opposite. I met him later on this week, and he was out. He was only the second out guy I've been with. Even though, through our eye contact ritual, I knew that he got down; I didn't know he was out, until I asked him whether he was married or not. After Bobby , I tend to ask that upfront. I also usually ask, what they are into. Whether they are top, bottom, versatile, and what they do and don't do. I give my levels of comfort to them also. This isn't very sexy, but I feel it's necessary; after many run ins, with guys that I'm with are complete tops, to late. He told me he was down for whatever I was down for. Remember that whatever I'm down for.

Lets skip to when we are getting busy. He tells me that he is a very sexual sensitive person, that's what the two nipple rings and the cock ring is for. We are orally taking turns, giving each other what is wanted and needed. That is until he cums. I lean back on my back, anticipation of my finale'. However I didn't get mine. He informs me that we are done, because we came. I inform him, that we couldn't be done, because I didn't cum. He says, once he cums that's it for him. He told me that he only pulled my pants off, and started going down on me to get to my butt so he could play with it.( I didn't let him though) That he really don't give head and other things, but he did what things he did just to move things along. He gives me this smirk, that spoke I got you nigga, I got mines, now fuck off. As I dress I was muttering under my breathe like a bratty teenager. Things like niggas ain't squat...I see why there are so many under satisfied women, niggas try to get theirs and forget who they with... I can't believe I got played..etc.

Fast forward to me and my car parked next to his. I'm not going to lie I was pissed. I don't know who I was more angry with, him for playing me, or me for getting played. Either way I truly felt played. For some strange reason, I figured, by him being an out gay guy, that he would be different, than the dl guys, I'm used to. So here I was beside his car, contemplating doing damage. I kept picturing that smirk he gave me. I was debating between a stab to the tires, I had a blade in my car. Then I was thinking about remain my car right into his. I had been in a fender bender a few days prior, and although I had called my insurance company and they notify their body shop, I hadn't taken it there to get an estimate. I could do some serious damage and it wouldn't cost me any more than the $200 deductible I was already paying. Then it hit me it wasn't his fault, it was mine. Besides he had so many dents and bangs all over that old ass Mazda 626, that he may have not even notice

The reason I go through the bull, that I go through, is no one's fault but my own. The thing I've said many times to others, is that when you keep having SAME problems with others, sometimes it's not them, but you. The one common denominator between the uber'DL and out guy, is me. I'm not meeting them right, and doing things the way I should, and bull shit is my payment.

So I have paid up my past gym bill. I have decided, that every time I get that feeling, whether it be late at night or first thing in the morning. The thing I'm going to do is, go to the gym!