I know I have been away... Gathering material from my messy life experiences takes time and continues to change my views on love and companionship which then I have to translate to this blog.(half-assed excuse)
Based off my current appetite I have a knack for showing up to parties with a good looking potential life mate on my arm. And that used to satisfy me(actually it didn’t but the alcohol at functions helped) however now my appetite has changed when it comes to this life mate thing. Often when thinking about a potential partner, people tell you to get out a blank sheet of paper and write down all the attributes you want them to have. And once you get past the perfect body, smile, and features you get to the nitty gritty stuff. I always start putting down things like compassionate, gentle, spontaneous, goal-orientated, etc. And those are very positive qualities for a potential mate to have. They just also happen to be boring and not all that I want in my mate.
But I never have the courage to stand up in my circle of friends of group and say I want my partner to be ruthless, conniving, treacherous, painfully pragmatic, bitchy, bossy, sneaky, convincing, freaky, etc. What brought this up you ask? I have spent the last _ days(cause I don’t really remember how many) watching two shows, The Following and House of Cards. And after multiple days of no sleep, life drama, and only these shows to talk to, I have lifted the ban that I had on dating white women (cause after watching these two shows you can’t deny the gangstaness of the white women, just can’t) AND thought about the darker qualities I want my future bride to have.
The formula goes is as follows: (MOST OF CLAIRE UNDERWOOD)+(ALL OF EMMA) X (ALL OF MANDEE) = A PERFECT MATE AND DEADLY PARTNER.
Now some of you might be asking if I am anything like Frank Underwood or Joe Carroll, and I pride myself by saying I am growing to be much worse(see works produced 5 years from now :). The women that support these two great fictional men bring their own problems, baggage, obsessions, etc to the table. But what cannot be denied is their unflinching loyalty and their unconditionally love.
There is a clear distinction between love and unconditional love. And for these purposes unconditional love trumps just ol’ love cause love always comes with conditions and expectations. These women loved flawed men unconditionally and without judgement. This love is based on a truth and a basic human understanding that many people don’t understand, that we are all human and therefore powerful.
No one understands this better than Claire from House of Cards; Claire and Frank don’t have a marriage, they have a blood-oath partnership that they are both happy to go to the mattresses for. Which is why it can handle Frank’s bisexuality or Claire’s (alleged) infidelity. This is because they are completely honest with each other and are clear that whatever is done is in the best interest of them both. They can fuck around on each other, it keeps the marriage interesting. The smoke cigarettes together, because it’s always nice to share at least one vice with someone you love, and when one of them gets attacked they don’t fucked around. Revenge is often slow, deliberate, and painful as shit. O I would love to be so strategic with a lover, to gather intel like every outing is a mission. To see her engage in animalistic thrills without batting an eye, to hear of exploits, or squirm with the thought of juicy secrets unshared but be amused at the thought. I could only imagine what an aphrodisiac that is. To sleep with a woman who is powerful and fucked up. Another thing about Claire is she is quiet, her best friend IS her husband. She is not a gossiper, because she understands the power of information and appearances.
What Claire is lacking(which isn’t much) is added by Emma from The Following, and what Emma has is a one track mind and craziness that I appreciate. Emma’s loyalty comfortably sits in the realm of complete obsession. I love this about her. Even though Claire is great being goal orientated, her goals weren’t always in align with Frank’s. Emma would cut out her own tongue before turning on Joe Carroll and it is that type of devotion that a artist truly needs. She is completely dedicated to the work that Joe is doing and the dream that he has. And because of this love that borders on obsession Emma will do everything and anything to be Joe’s rock. Even when Joe is tired and his faith is waning, it is Emma who provides him with the stability he needs to think. She also is extremely jealous and always looking out for the best interest of Joe. I don’t care if I’m a narcissist, I’m an artist and desire someone as obsessive about me AND my work. My works will probably be the only children I produce and I want my partner to treat it as such. I will be equally insane(if not more) so I want her to be absolutely bat shit crazy about me. But I want her to not b so crazy that she would think killing me was a good idea.
Last but certainly not least, I would multiply these two white women by Mandee, also from The Following. Mandee is the strange strong black woman that has enough faith is Joe to kill her mother. In this girl, Joe see’s hope, redemption and feels the love that he needs to continue on. Mandee does more than believe in Joe, she has faith in him. And backs her words up with actions. Lovers have had faith in me before but did not go great lengths to prove it, or stay by my side in the midst of my failures. I could only imagine being stared up at with adoration and praise as if I was the messiah himself.
Messiah?!(Did I go to far?) I don’t care that these things concern some, it’s my truth and I’m proud of it. I’ve watched relationships, marriages, partnerships crumble under secrets, half-truths, and passive aggressiveness. Many of my own failed simply because I could not be as honest with my partner about my wants and desires. About my carnal urges, about my games of chess, attraction to pain, etc. My complexity requires a lot more than a person that can maintain a home and picket fence. I need someone that can be completely honest with me and themselves about this human experience and the taboo things that make us human and scared to live out our full human experiences.
And I am sick of innocence, it really has no place in this world unless on the back of a missing poster. I no longer want to have moments surrounded by checker players who couldn’t possibly fathom what’s at stake. There are people in this world that will never raise themselves above the title of cum bucket or doormat. However I need a woman who will be a constant and never a variable. That’s powerful even when assumed to be at their most fragile.
And why you ask? Because I love women.
But most importantly I love strong powerful women. It’s these women that make me feel to be in their very company is an honor and privilege. It’s these women that are able to invoke the fear of God even when the police cannot as well as the tenderness of a mother or trusted confidant. It’s these women I’ve been missing in my life. It’s these women that I will be able to be strong around but won’t need too. Its these women that I will take off my mask in front of. It’s these women that truly are Queens, able to move through different class levels, past gatekeepers, essentially all across the board. And most importantly, I need a woman who is so powerful that it feels natural to submit too.
What type of a woman do you need for you?
Today I stayed downtown in the cold to meet someone, my special, slightly secret someone that has been filling this void in my life for brown skin to match and love mine. I wasn’t stupid or naive about our reasons for meeting either, I knew, like me, during our interactions her thoughts were of the lover she lost and mine as well. Because during the cold season it’s just nice to have someone that wants you(or more specifically wants what you have) even if its your energy, warmth, comfort.
Anyways, I met up with her and was surprised to not get the same usual cheerful greeting of love and kindness. But today was different, she was hesitant. And I was over excited. Finally seeing this brown beauty, this delicate secret that I had been thinking about over the month of time we have been apart and mildly out of contact. However, she isn’t really ‘out’ and I am not one to force someone out of the closet of encourage someone to catch up to the chapter that I’m on, when I’m on book 2 or 3. So I waited, I waited for my time to get a moment to talk to her.
When we finally did get to speak I realized that she was holding something back, so like the Virgo I am, I dived in saying “I really like you and I’ve been missing you over this time apart.” Her silence after that said it all. But I continued to wait for a response or affirmation of my feelings. But she said “I like you too. But my heart is elsewhere, and I don’t know if I should move on when my heart and my head is elsewhere. I do like you, but I want something more. I want someone that reminds me of home that I can be comfortable with.”
I stood there for a second, not knowing what to say. My ego wanted to say “Fuck you” and quote a Gucci Mane verse or two but the other part of me wanted to say, ‘thank you’ because even though she didn’t know it, we were in the same place. I mean, I WAS hurt but not because of the blow to the ego, but because I wished I could have said that to her, long before we started courting each other. I wished I could have said that to the many women that I have been with after my love went away. But I didn’t, I let my fears of being alone cause me to share many beds to ignore my own feelings.
So I’m not mad, because I realized that I wasn’t talking to this woman, but a mirror of my feelings and all I could really do was honor hers and my own. For far too long I have been operating as if I never experienced love’s Perfect Match for me. She was everything that I needed and wanted. She was hood rat and lady, woman and gentleman, girl and little boy, crazy and sane, liberal about some things but conservative about others, demonic and yet divine. Our collective energies danced with each other when we were together. And I NEVER had to wear ANY of my masks with her (partly because she knew them all and always wanted me fully present).
I broke a lot of hearts to come to this truth. The truth I wished I could have said everyday to everyone after she left. I understand now, that her love is all I need and want. And I will wait, and be patient until she comes back or die with the purity of our love being the last thing I smile about(even if I never experience it again). Because she is home, comfort, change, a challenge, a omen, a prayer, God smiling on me, a sunset, water, a chess game, a movie marathon. And yes I can have all those separately, but she was and is God’s Perfect Match for me and for that; I will wait, or just be thankful I got to experience.
When it comes to sex I have come to realize that there are types of sex and these types depend on the level of intimacy and how much the partner or person is present in the act. No act creates more intimacy than looking at a person during sex.
Some of my readers might be saying duh but seriously think about it. The passionate animal sex I’ve had was based off of pure sexual attraction and those acts involved a little bit of eye contact but that eye contact served as more of a ego stroke and something that I believe disconnects people. So I ended up getting a empty nut (but a nut non the less).
On the other hand, I have fucked women and didn’t see them again until I put my clothes on. In those situations it is often been two lonely people coming together to not feel lonely and these interactions usually have NO eye contact because both parties are thinking about someone else.
Then there is the act of making love or what I like to call true sex. I describe it as a intimate exchange of energy between two ( or more) fully present parties in mind, body, spirit, energy, and intention. And out of all the sexual/energy exchanges I have been involved in these are the ones that are easiest to remember and hardest to get over.
That kind of undivided attention spoils a person, and it is something I have accepted that I can’t compromise on.
The issue with that is that this type of connection takes a vulnerability and a honesty that many shy away from long after the honeymoon phase has ended.
And most importantly this type of connection (if you desire it) takes true time and energy committed to reaching this level of presence with a partner.
I just wish I knew this when I came out, would have saved the headache
The big ex’s birthday just passed. I REPEAT my ex, the one whose initials are forever inked into my ring finger just celebrated her 27th birthday. She did so without me and from an unknown location somewhere in the country.
I sent her an email via LinkedIn which is the only social media site she frequents saying Happy Birthday and expressing a strong desire to see her. Needless to say, she refused and I swallowed and finally accepted the hard truth that she will be avoiding us probably for the rest of her life.
While that fact finally sunk through my layers of denial I stared at my hand tattoo and remembered the day I got it. The hood AG tattoo artist was just drunk enough to ask me multiple times if in fact, ‘I was sure’. And every time, my YES was more pronounced then the last.
Finally after another mixed drink the tattoo artist asked me “Why? Y’all not together and you don’t know if she’ll ever come back. Why are you getting this?”
I answered because I love her and I want to. Still she didn’t understand but gave me the tattoo anyway.
And it took a birthday message response from this woman to help me understand my truth. That me loving her, isn’t for her, it’s for me. She can be married and happy and I will still love her the same if not more. If we never get back together I will still love her. And if given the time, opportunity, and resources, I would search the Earth to ask for another chance at our love.
But for now, I love her because she exists, near or far. I love her because the love she has shown me continues to change and rearrange me. I love her because her love was the most pure. I love her because my love for her helps me go on. And I will always keep this tattoo as a reminder of our love because she is the prototype for a perfect love, for me.
Where have I been you ask? You know me finding my way through the maze of love finding my way and working of course. However you don’t read for the work, you come for the love, the passion, and most of all the stories. Well this particular part of the journey had me back tracking for a while. A necessary step if your going to get through the summer of love without STDs and stalkers.
But as I was saying, backwards. It’s possible to be friends with an ex, all it takes is a friendship to begin with. With that being said I have a few (you can count them on one hand) and most of those people are capable of talking about what ended the relationship. They are adult enough to admit wrongs on both sides and maintain a friendship without sex. And with that being said I decided to chose the only person that is not capable of having that conversation.
Our friendship now emits a interesting odor because of the recent break up but it will be sanitized fresh with the frebreeze like mist that is her smile because she is a woman who swallows and eats shit. Yes that type of woman exists, and I ask what is the breaking point for this friendship.
HOW MUCH SHIT CAN SHE TAKE?? I don’t need a romantic comedy to tell me. The answer is a lot, cause despite the lesson from Grease; no transformation of my Sandy will take place. She will be the girl too innocent for this world and me too evil to date her. But at least we have our friendship 😉
I recently had a conversation with a educated, powerful, black woman who felt the need to school me on some of my shit before they lead to my downfall. The particular incident that brought about this conversation between sister friends she encouraged me to never speak about again until I met my maker on judgment day. Specifically telling me to put it in my box of secrets and never share. And even reminded me of what smile it was behind. Needless to say that day, the mask I often wear, cracked in front of that sister stranger.
But not because of how right she was but because I had already emptied out that room. My Pandora’s box of secrets has been safely tucked away in the mind of a lover who shared many of my own. We danced with all the thoughts and actions that made us monsters and faced the complex responsibility of humanity together and with new eyes of discovery and awe.
The tears that I shed weren’t for the incident or for my stuff. It was for that authentic human connection that I have to exist without. It was because in this hustle and bustle of a world I found someone who took the time to listen and hear my story. And equally important that I was captivated by hers and only wanted to be apart of her pages and chapters to come.
It’s difficult living in a world that has you always hiding yourself however it is worse to actually take off the mask. Feel the sun on your mal-nourished skin only to exist in a world where that type of vulnerability is neither expected or accepted.
As the tortured human an artist must be, this vulnerability is more coveted then air and masterpieces. And many artists give everything just to Afford a moment with a person who can dance with you and the skeletons in your closet. But one day you wake up and realize that the people you wished to have those moments with are gone. And without those moments of pure human vulnerability, this life, becomes far less easy to tolerate.
I have recently realized the consistent problem I have with relationships. I am a cheat but not by choice. I simply always have my priorities caught up in my work and the places writing takes me. With that being said it is terribly difficult to stay committed to someone who is committed to me but not my work.
I had one relationship that I didn’t cheat in and that was with the Great One. And what made her different was that she was committed to me AND my work. She would always ask about what I was writing and never judged my disturbing mind.
Equally important, she was not afraid of the side of me that makes me creative. Her unconditional love for me and my artistic condition made me a better person. She tamed me and the darkness that I create with. And that gift connected me to her hopes, dreams, and aspirations. I wanted to do anything and everything to make sure whatever dram she imagined could com true. Even if that meant a cancelation of my dreams from our cosmic equation. I could have stayed with her forever.
Alas, the reason this blog works is because we are not together. Because she knew that I would give up galaxies for her atmosphere. So she left. So that my dreams could live. And when she left I understood the death of Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston and Amy Winehouse. I understood how I could have everything and it feel like nothing. I had beautiful women in my bed and in my house but felt alone. I touched and was touched but felt nothing. I saw beauty everywhere and didn’t matter because the masterpiece that was made for me was gone.
Despite the success that came with her exit it didn’t feel worth giving up the person who truly understood my all. But I continue on because I am clear that what i have to give is bigger than us. So I get it. Love, perfection. And how it is possible to find a person whose flaws, childhood hang ups, and fears fit with yours like a perfect puzzle piece.
And the feeling of being able to see and access so much except the only mirror that allows you to see yourself as a human in this divine experience.
I know, I know. I wrote the damn book so I should not be discussing this topic of secrets when referring to my love life. But honey, opps I did it again.
And she played with my heart, and i got lost in the game. Ohh baby, baby.
And I felt once again the feelings immortalized in my work.
My grieving period this time was not one of r&b but blues, jazz, and boy bands.
Yea it was serious. Nsync and Backstreet Boys brought me back to life.
I tried to chalk this one up to being open to love and following my heart but the truth is I left and then came back. I knew better which is why I left in the first place but now I’m wishing I would have stayed with my original decision and left on my terms. Instead I went back damn near crawled back for her love which was barely enough to sustain me through afternoons.
But is being lonely that shitty? When I was younger it wasn’t. I could disappear inside myself and hide, get lost, explore, build things, write things. But for some reason at a certain age that ability became a concern for adults and parents.
So I was forced into this social world of rules and such, I was always more of an observer. But alas mass media doesn’t endorse the loner so I was made to join.
Then sex got involved and I went ape shit and now I am finally calm and coming back to self.
However with that comes the learning to be with oneself and enjoy my time with me. Which comes with the extra baggage of not being sad when I’m not entertaining or don’t have people around me.
So along with me putting myself through this, my phone breaks on May 18th and it is June 6th($print is owned by the devil) and I am just getting my replacement phone which forced me to resort to a minutes phone (I COULDN’T EVEN GET ON THE INTERNET). And I had to limit my conversation and yall know I’m long winded.
Sigh shaking my head and rolling my eyes.
So needless to say I’ve been going through and that is where my black ass has been.
Glad to be back and dating myself (I give it to the end of the summer, lol, MAYBE 😉 )
Not dealing with the truth will have you stuck sometimes, in your writing, personal life, or any craft really. The shells we put ourselves in have their purpose, they protect us but sometimes I use my shell to protect myself from what I really need. The truth only to be found in the recesses of my mind as I slip back into old habits trying to feed this hunger that continues to go unsatisfied. It’s a hunger for not love, or lust, but a safe space within a person. Scared ground in which to be the softer side of me, the doubtful, and the silly.
I have been dreading to admit that she hurt me, that I was wrong, tricked again by this game called love. I have come to admit loving me isn’t easy however for a time she made it seem like it was normal, and not the impossible feet that love has made it seem to be.
She took her love away despite the amount of compromising I did but if you ask her I am selfish. It’s so interesting to look at the sides of a story that your in, to recognize all sides and still feel the damage is only something my wondering mind seems to have perfected.
Because this one, was a snapping turtle. She let me into her cave. The place where she hides the softer version of herself and there we watched movies and played chess. However, she felt I had wronged her by being myself and making a decision that I thought was best.
My tactics for surviving aren’t to her liking I assume. However, I had to detox from her love and was dropped into a reality that wasn’t as bright. I know that it is going to get better, I still have my cave but for a while it was nice to share spaces between space and time with a person.
I had to get that off my chest, block removed.
QUESTION!!!!
I was recently involved with someone over the summer and my red flags went up with I initially met this person so I tried to keep my distance and just have fun but if you know me then you know casual sex isn’t my thing and I’m an old fashion want to be settled down kind of girl. As I got to know her more I of course caught feelings and as always I got played out in the end for someone else. Long story short, she has cheated on her boyfriend, now turned fiance, several times with me and others and has gotten away with it. Her fiance is clueless to the double life she lives. Whether or not she’ll stop doing this eventually who knows but I uncontrollably still have feelings for her, which are slowly fading away but my question is do you feel like her fiance is lucky not knowing. Him or any other person for that matter who has been cheated on but doesn’t know. He’s head over heals for this girl and she’s providing him with this fairy tale of a relationship that keeps a smile on his face as well as hers considering she’s always boasting about it and a small part of me envies him because she once made me feel the same. So do you think it’s better off that people stay blind and enjoy their artificial committed relationship or that they should always deserve to know the truth and make an effort to find someone who is willing to be loyal. Now a days there are so many ways to cheat and keep it hidden that it seems that being blind is one of the best options that anyone can take. It might be my trust issues speaking for me but I also think that’s being realistic. Love the blog! keep up the great work.
Love's Twisted Lessons 