Sometimes this place feels like jail. As I can so thoroughly remember the five rooms that I called my home for seven years, having most of my possessions confined to one room is a little restricting. I sleep on a twin mattress as opposed to the queen that I was familiar with (though the platform full before it was my favorite). There are no bodegas, only supermarkets that never have seven-day candles (though heeding Ifaniyi I now know that I don't need them as much). Every other face I encounter outside of these walls triggers some memory, some set of experiences that remind me of both why I wanted to leave and why I desperately craved something that would make me stay. I did not understand that despite appearances I had chosen a life before I came here, one where I would need to follow orders, for my own sake.

The number eleven has been chasing me since my twenties ended. This is the eleventh year since I began real adulthood. At this time in '97 I was shelving books at a Barnes and Noble for a living, facing out titles by authors I wouldn't even touch now. As I did my job there and at Comp USA and at the temp gigs that would follow, I never ended up being anywhere very long.

And some kind of way people always remembered me. I was working the counter on two different days when both Andre and Big Boi, came up to me, dapped me up and gave me their phone numbers long after I'd interviewed them for magazines. I interviewed the late Maynard Jackson, arguably Atlanta's most important mayor to date, from the break room at the back of the Noble while the music manager, a geeky kid named Gary, looked on in wonder. To him I was talking to a god. To me he was just another subject.

I stood at the edge of a different river yesterday. It was murky and brown and far more still than the place where I went to pray for more than five years, the secret Negarra, Konata, Edwin and I shared. But that pulse all around me felt the same. The results were the same. The outcome will be the same. The next Grand Lodge will be even more secluded and tranquil than the last.

I woke up this morning reminded of the gifts I've been given that most don't have, weapons I've

I don't think I'll ever stay in one thing for too long. hoping that the audience believes that I played my part well. OCTOBER 20. Out. 2008 Painted Ladies . I know that I'll once again end up in a hood different from where most of my friends are and that the existence I will seek will be off most of their radars. Outside of my family and loved ones the rest is about going where I'm needed. But it's all part of the plan.been armed with to help me on a walk through the valley of the shadows of mediocrity and fear. MONDAY. even if I don't fully understand why. anxiously awaiting my role in the next script that comes my way. Though I often tremble at the thought of change. I haven't slept well in these last few days. When it's done I will take my bow. all written in the script. as I've gone to bed wondering if this set of scripts and this set of dreams will be pan out better than a life in books that was plagued by both bad choices and bad timing.

I look a lot like my father. So maybe I have a few clues. For one. I don't have any solid evidence as to where to start. I've got some newfound cousins who share awfully similar features. But there was that afternoon in high school when I sat in my friend Bilquis study and her father showed me a Yoruba statue from thousands of years before that looked exactly like me.I've never been one of those dudes who felt like going back to Africa would solve all of my or my community's problems. And as my own familial history is a bit splintered due to more than a few generations on this side of the planet. Africa is a continent of many countries. .

meditating on the beauty and power that will save my life. the ample house set and running into women from many different phases of my life (all in the same space) I found myself wondering what my life might be like had my ancestors never been brought here. slimmer one with the hip control of a belly-dancing veteran.and the evolving forms of sistas whose bodies and minds I have both craved and praised in many different ways since my boyhood. My answer was no. But as the queens of the event strutted out onto the dance floor. the shorter. But that was before I understood how destiny works. They close a circle that both leaves me open for attack and makes me invincible all at once. And I had my own interpretation. Andrea. Out. their outfits accentuating curves and colors that rest at the bottom of the American paradigm but at the top of the genetic well from which we were all born.Thus is was an honor and a privilege when Kat and Kim. But they were all African (or at least I thought they were). I was more proud of the African code in my blood than I have ever been. Of course he had his own motives for this. I found myself standing at the Ogun river looking at my reflection in the rippling water. as lining up my lovers. It just depends on the day you ask me. Carla and some other wonderful sistas asked me to give them a hand with the altars of Black Presidents Day. the backup singer with the painted face and legs legs longer than the Nile itself. Between the Fela cover band. a tribute to both Obama and Fela that went down at DCs the Warehouse on Saturday Night. When I was little my father would always tell me that I could find any feature. one could find as many similarities and differences among them. It helps me to understand the choices I've made in the almost infinite facets of this life of mine. "Do you think you have a type?" Bassey asked me as we sat in chairs taking in the dancers. . As a kid I used to dream about the idea of using a time machine to go back to the very beginnings of the slave trade with 20th century artillery and sinking every ships that came towards the coast of West Africa. As I confessed my crushes to Bassey: the tall and curvy chocolate girl who would only dance by her self. any physical trait that I wanted in a Black woman. their faces painted and adorned with beads in honor of Fela's wives. These moments somehow correlate with those.

I was so certain that I could find a way around their difficulties. it felt good to have big shutter and lens in-hand again. I did more in high school than some people do in their whole lives. My parents were newly-divorced and there was nothing I wanted more than to grow up. It was on that second visit to her home that I learned that half the boys in the building had had a piece of her already.P. neighborhoods and loyalties that often became a weight on my developing brain. I thought I could control everything. but it didn't make it any easier. Sixth grade in particular was a key year for me. to be free of the back and forth between houses. Thomas. Thomas was always the one to push the envelope. Even as I watched my parents struggle in different ways. my 3rd and 6th grade teacher. Though I could barely work it. Ms. Game Over. as I spent it moonlighting between my studies and a series of extracurricular activities that included hosting Newsbag. My answer to this was literally "Cest La Vie. made us present current events articles every Monday and talked to us about specials she's seen on shows like 60 Minutes and That's Incredible (yeah I'm dating myself but so what?). on top of the fact that she had a boyfriend that I was being used to make jealous. as it turned out she was right. the girl who had given my first kiss. With her short Afro and no nonsense disposition. My first attempt at trying to be a player was inadvertently talking on the phone to two different girls who happened to be friends only to have them both bring me up in a lunch conversation. I was in a rush to be on my own because I thought that adulthood came without rules. Whether it was getting that rash on my face from my partner's hair gel during cheek to cheek dancing or showing up an apartment complex to see the girl that I thought was mine. Shoutout to Kim for letting to take shots with her SLR for a little while. Thomas asked me to stay after school one day and gave me a lecture about how I was trying to grow up too fast. I thought that I could change it all as quickly as I wanted. that utopia was just beyond my fingertips." which illustrated both her point and my knowledge of the current pop hit by Robbie Neville. I don't think she knew that. that I was letting my boyhood pass me by. But still. Ms. .S. I've been thinking a lot about Ms. She told us about the dangers of fossil fuels.

My only purpose is to keep on keeping on. I've seen firsthand that those who have wronged me ended up getting dealt with by the people upstairs. They were more a symptom of a larger problem that I've finally begun to solve. WEDNESDAY. That. As I make this journey. particularly here. I'm seeing that every interaction we have with other souls has a purpose. the weapons and tools I need for this next phase of the game. my usual habit. I was going to end up here one way or the other. because it's the only way to get to where I need to go. Someone else told me about my journey to this not so sacred place today. Out. coupled with another talk with a man who's been close to me for most of my life helped me to understand it all a bit better. Tomorrow I'll be praying again. as I'm granted relatively long periods of solitude in this kind of isolation. While choice is a key factor in how things turn out. OCTOBER 8. But this time I know that both of these projects will change things for me in a way that nothing I've done before has. armed only with my intellect and an Ipod. And I've chosen to surrender to them as truth. Yesterday I prayed in the shower that all of this won't be a wild goose chase. It was just a question of how I did it. . Day by day things arrive at my doorstep by invisible messenger. Here and now I understand where my greatest obstacles will forever lie. Something's always going to be challenge. Still. As many of my dreams about others have come true. But at the end of the day it isn't my place to exact revenge on anyone. the dreams others have had about me have had equal significance. My reasons for this weren't completely rational. a lot of stuff is truly predetermined. Today I laugh at my lack of faith. Eventually I will become it. 2008 Further Instructions I had a dream last night where I found myself reluctantly forgiving a person that I've secretly wanted to shoot in the skull at close range for quite some time. Step by step I get closer to the goal. I am writing a novel and a screenplay at the same time. this person is never held accountable for their crimes and continues to inflict damage on the lives of others without as much as a single thought about the consequences.Something's always going to be hard.

the editors who didn't listen until it was too late. The women here come in all shades and dispositions.I'm fluent in the language here but have been a little out of practice. 2008 It's So Easy Being Cheesy It was a packed enough Saturday as it was. I can't get to where I'm going carrying all of this dead weight. the Republicans and the Democrats. It's a wonderous place that I know like the back of my hand and yet don't know at all. It's getting harder for him to communicate with others. Out. I am thinking about the man in the wheelchair in Cali. The evening started out nutty as I had to do a last minute favor for my mother which cut my . particularly after I was told that I needed to be a little fresh to be admitted. My homegirl Brandi was turning 30 and I was set to attend a sampler performance at the New York City Center. the rats and snitches and thieves and killers and most of all myself for making a bunch of shitty choices that caused me nothing but pain in lives past. I'm sure he's all the more determined to do all that he can to get the message across. SEPTEMBER 29. anyone who ever cockblocked me. There are no Caribbean accents permeating the urban air. I was on deadline. particularly after they mentioned that it was Sonya's birthday and that there was a boat cruise party being held in her honor. But I'm not thinking about the here and now. the best friends that fucked me over. There something about the idea of a party on a boat that gives one an image of elegance and style. There are ladybugs and bowling alleys and massive amounts of seafood. While I'm on the forgiving kick I guess I should absolve everyone: the women who lied. the clients who cheated. But what I'm truly afraid of is what life might feel like without them. He is my hero. as I did my best to run myself into the ground when stricken with difficulties far less serious. Here. So when I got the staticky call from my boy Ralph and his fiance saying that they were in town I knew that it was going to be overload. But within. the boys and girls swore that they knew how the world worked when they didn't know shit. and lives each day to the fullest as best as he can. I couldn't wait. MONDAY. the one who writes with his eyelids. there are no bodegas manned by teams of Middle Eastern men who make uniform price hikes every three months.

Then it was a journey all the way to Harlem just so I could cab it with Ralph and Sonja back down to the pier on the West Side. May she rest in peace. TUESDAY. Scott's crib was small but it was in Midtown. the men were supposed to wait while the ladies enjoyed an all-male review on one of the boats set aside specifically for plus-sized women. Some were handwritten." As 'interesting" was a word I use in a variety of contexts I had a feeling that I was the butt of a joke that wouldn't be revealed until it was all too late. 2008 Love Bytes One of the best decisions I ever made went down over ten years ago. first stopping in DC for a few months before my adventurous landing in Hoboken. And I had a certain folder with me. Over and out. This week marks my tenth anniversary of leaving Atlanta. "It'll be interesting. I was visiting New York for the second time and staying with a guy named Scott Lubeck. as does the guy in the purple pleather jacket and matching pants. "You're gonna have a good time tonight. As I submerge in darkness I know that like the hope that always floats.time at Brandi's down to nil and made me late for the dance show. Others had been done on my Mom's old Smith Corona typewriter. SEPTEMBER 23. As a final point of description. My laptop died on me today. who at the time was working as am assistant editor for Martin Scorsese. a folder filled with a good 15 years of my early writings. I scanned them all and dropped them in a . More importantly he had both a slide and a flatbed scanner. packed what I could into my little Honda and made my way north. or the brother in the red dress shirt with the homemade nylon vest." Sonya said. When the first thing you see is a 5'5 sista who's a good 300 pounds wearing tight spandex with slits that go all the way up to her hips on both sides says something. It seems like just yesterday that I. Massive security. I will reemerge anew dripping with light. Somewhere between the DJ who put seemed to throw on anything ever head on the radio and the guy who looked like a fake Tommy from Martin chain-smoking blunts. the then 23 year-old. A lot of gold teeth. I found the most entertainment in Twittering at three in the morning and dreaming of better days.

Knowing what I know now. It was a blessing that all I even ended up with as a result were cuts and bruises. that people like us live by a different set of rules. As I'm living and breathing solitude and meditation these days so many things are becoming crystal clear. Now I'm coasting towards new beginnings. I'd never bothered to read them until now. So many times I tried to slide under the gates meant to keep me out of places where I didn't belong. save AIM exchanges and other personal nonsense. Though the specimens were fine. Certain connections just weren't meant to be made. I spend way too much time questioning the universe. I was so crushed by my own disappointments that certain things just flew right by me. there were so many different things going on with different people that I didn't realize. the glare from eyes wide open can be a little jarring. as well an indication that my triumphs and pitfalls with the opposite sex were even then be captured in primitive versions of the same kind of Woody Allen meets Raymond Chandler prose I used today today. the short story that my last screenplay was loosely based on and so many of the letters I exchanged with lovers and friends over a good decade. There were some people who were trying to reach out to me but didn't know how. certain seeds weren't meant to bloom. I mean looking at it now I'm embarrassed that such collections of words ever came from my pen. Boy did some of my early work suck. I wouldn't slow down so the universe slowed it all to a stop and then shifted me into neutral onto the exit I might never have chosen on my own. Allowing emotion to get in the way isn't as noble as it once seemed. within them was the DNA for work that was to come. . Though I have no regrets. I spent years being angry about things that didn't matter in the end. Hindsight really is 20/20. However. As I look back on my years as a man on fire I'm stunned that I didn't manage to give myself a heart attack over things that amounting to nothing but fleeting foolishness. I found my creative samples for USC.file along with some personal letters. I was on my way to going like Icarus. Suzy reminded me of this the other night. and as such navigating the waters of the everyday is a complicated process that require clarity in making every decision.

SEPTEMBER 22. It is death and life at once. My children will grow up with so many aunties it's going to be ridiculous. These are times that I will not forget. 2008 Her When I was ten. It's always been women who have given me the best advice in this life. And those Autnies are going to spoil them to death. I had never done acting before outside of school plays and the like. my father asked me if I wanted to audition to be on a TV show.shining light in the dark places of my past of present that I hid from in fear of what I might see. The show was called Newsbag. I can see that as plain as the day that's coming. We interviewed guests and read copy from teleprompters and generally tried to be as adult as we . I did get the part. MONDAY. Shoutout to Dervish and Suzy for pointing me back toward the clouds. plain and simple. Shoutout to Jeanell for her latest triumph. Shoutout to Pegram for telling me not to forget what it hurts to remember. Out. but the whole idea of it seemed exciting. Though it wasn't exactly acting. a Saturday morning kids show that was the prelude to Fox's morning cartoon line-up.

a skill. I wasn't comfortable enough with myself then to exploit it in the name of getting tail and though it opened up a lot of doors for me and led to the beginnings of my career as a writer. When I joined the cast of Teen Summit in '89 two years later. But when I got excused an hour early each week to go the tapings. I didn't understand that by taking her into the limelight that I was in a way giving her up. Sometimes it feels like doing "her" for a living turned her into more of my whore than my lady. "She" got me through those boring ass lectures in Ms. Armstrong's English Class and through high school lunch hours and through the early parts of Friday Nights. I started to see the way that my fellow classmates and people who saw me in the street reacted to me. and I had her all to myself. And I didn't get it. no different than how people were in the band or played sports or what have you. "She" was who I came home to. it was the same thing on a national scale. I find myself wishing that . The way I saw it it was just something that I did. When I think like that or I get into situations where it starts to feel that way. information I rarely share with people I don't feel close to. it wasn't. many of them read the blog instead of trying to get to know me directly. I didn't think that she would ever define me more than I defined her. My love affair with words started when I was eight. that she would become a job. Instead of really wanting to know how I am. I often found myself wishing that I'd never done it as I would have liked to have kept everything that had to do with my high school years completely to myself.could on a show for kids and their parents. It's like when I meet people now and they Google me. It was a quiet thing. I wish that I'd never done it. a private thing. After doing that show for two years there were people who both loved and hated me for no reason at all. the discussion moves towards what I'm working on. that I tell her I love her just to keep the magic alive when I'm really in it for the dough. I remember clearly being in an Auto Parts store with my Pops and a woman saw us (He had been on the show twice) and literally ran down the aisle to kiss us both and say that she watched it every week. a commodity that at times would have priority lists and dollar amounts attached. especially my first few years of college. Many times. But while you might think that it was the kind of thing that got me laid and made me the man in high school.

I also. have to abandon those romantic notions about art and artists when it comes to keeping the rent paid. it made the way for me to have a very different experience. The thing is knowing when to say when. Business cards? Check. FRIDAY. As my time to walk is nowhere near I keep playing my hands and putting what I have in the middle because this is the game I was meant to play. the one who gets introduced instead of making introductions. I question myself about my motivations. The thing I love about my homeboys here is that when we roll out here I get to be the quiet one. We all make compromises and I am not to be excluded. and when to walk away. SEPTEMBER 5. the rookie. when to hold them and fold them. 2008 Welcome to the Dollhouse Cellphone? Check. I try to draw a clear line between my ego and my integrity. . Out. When I veered east instead of West after Atlanta. my credit respectable and all of the shit that comes with being an adult in this society. at times. I've had a lot of moments in these last few years where I have looked at my art with this uncertainty. Gum after the Subway hero that served as dinner? A definite check.I'd never met her at all.

Fred Williamson is a big dude. Here. the three black guys in the room. The open bar gives us free vodka. My body feels lost. Earlier in the day I listened to an executive producer tell several stories of hack TV writers who continued to get better jobs despite their lack of ability. I smell weed every time the wind shifts. we might as well be as transparent. The law of this land is so different. But I'm getting things . all of us have ended up at that point where we can take or leave any given scene. four-inch heels and very little hips or ass to speak of. but the game out here is still an adjustment. Paulie Shore is a lot smaller. But as she scopes us. which is needed to endure the lack of substance all around me. LA is all about straight lines: long legs. A six-one biracial sista looks a lot like Beyonce circa the first DC album. The Asian sidekick guy from Dexter is on some Alpha male shit in real life. The Barbie doll effect is a staple in Hollywood. I'm as much of a believer in making an entrance as the next man. Nowadays it's all about the work. And he looks just like he does on screen except the hair dye is a little more obvious.But fittingly enough. even in the mere three-hour time difference. We meet a comedienne who isn't funny. The DJ's doing these Daft Punk-style robotic mixes of every song known to man. I've been here a week now with one more to go. it's completely empty. and a brother who looks annoyed when we kind of butt in and make introductions to the collective of Asian females he's sitting with. a goofy girl who keeps complaining about the hindrance that her gay friend will be when it comes to getting into the next club. I meet J'Davey in person and see that she's just as striking as I wanted her to be. I pass Paris Hilton and have to admit that she's far cuter in person. Back in Brooklyn there's so much psychic traffic that it's overwhelming. Jet lag is making work harder. I get tired more easily. He gives us a "Wassup dog?' as we roll past him at a hotel entrance on our way to a Nylon Magazine party celebrating the new 90210 on the CW. Whereas my rather hip and ethnic circles celebrate curves. even though I know it well after all of this time.

As I've made annual trips here over the last seven years. particularly one of color. the conservative. Son of the Beach For those of you ladies out there who ever want to move to LA. I've never met a woman. This town is the hub for all of the pretty people in the country. They admit that they often entertain such advances because they're better than staying at home and watching reruns of Girlfriends. why in the company of friends we find ourselves . I am reminded of all the reasons why things are why they are. the Kenyan and me. Tsk. Tsk. And I was worried about getting bored.done more easily than I might have hoped. They believe that keeping it all surface is the only way to save themselves from seeing who they are when they look at themselves in the mirror each morning. I've got more people to see than I have time for. those obsessing with their faces and bodies and smiles because they hope they'll be on display for the masses of folks who flip channels and buy movie tickets. who didn't think that this was the dating hell of the Western Hemisphere. They believe that what's on the outside is all that there is. I've listened to my friends tell me these tales of men whose game was on par with things I saw dudes try unsuccessfully in junior high. my homegirl. don't do it for the men. Out. So as we walk through the Venice Canal. Some of it is understandable.

It might mean a week in the Bahamas as opposed to a month in Fiji. I stuck my toes in the Pacific Ocean and gave reverence to the full-bodied lady who will save my life when the times comes. The older you get the less risks you're supposed to take. She said that I wanted it all. This has been a PSA from the voice that guides me from within. She washed over me like the rising waves off in the distance. And she did. But not long before she would have graduate my grandfather told her to stop. The rest of me trembles in fe THURSDAY. A millennia ago Native Americans most likely did the same thing en masse on that very spot. a plot beyond our limited comprehension. Trying to erase them was one of the countless efforts to erase what gives us peace.saying that the opposite sex ain't shit. As the sun fell towards the sky. She wanted to make clothes that the world would see. "Supposed". But far too often such behavior is fueled far more by conditioning. So she went to school for it. something I may have quoted here or stored in the back of my brain for this particular blog. Because that's what she'd been told a good wife was supposed to do. AUGUST 21. Much of this should be a product of wisdom. reminding me that there is a plan within the depths. While some folks settled for just a piece of their dreams I wouldn't be fully satisfied unless I got the whole pie. But if there's a plan for each of us. My grandmother wanted to be a seamstress. is relative based on each moment. 2008 Doin' It The problem with being a grownup in this world is that you're encouraged not to dream. in that context. She wanted to moved to Paris. For better or for worse this is true. why in my past lives I paid the price for the ghosts of assholes who had long since moved on to the next town to terrorize some other poor soul. Hence my life . It reminds me of something a woman said to me once. I know that "supposed" is a tricky term for folks who subscribe to the idea of "free will". going the other way might mean digging up a chest of crabs instead of one of treasure. Still childless she began to take courses. a twisted act from twisted spirits looking to find sanity in their gold instead of within themselves.

They won't just be the empty words spewing from my lips between rounds at the next "it" social event. and the others I welcome into the game. drug-addicted and at many times bored. I never want to stop feeling like a kid. It's like that for all of us. strategies for long-term living as a creative entrepreneur. a woman who loves him and peace of knowing how to enjoy the blessing of stints where you don't have to do anything at all but clean the crib and spend time with your loved ones. in his 30s. That's the kind of peace I've been looking for. bashed in the face with bottles. Last night I was reading a piece on Modest Mouse. doing jobs I hated as much as any prospective 9-to-5 and barely living doing it. But now. and also separate me from so many of my peers who seem determined to make the same mistakes as those who came before us. When I was writing about how my life was this box that was emptying an ever-spinning roulette wheel influenced by God. he's got a house. I never wanted to start whoring myself just to have a little comfort in my life. It wasn't just a matter of material things or personal habits or religious convictions. Now I'm not afraid to admit that when Range Rover makes their first hybrid or alternative fuel car I want to able to afford to grab one of the first off the line. . I won't even stop believing that I can do anything. frustrated. Isaac Brock. myself. a Seattle band that's been making music for almost as long as I've been writing for a living. during his journey. I had no idea of how deep it was going to go. and a multi-layered career. has been homeless. and I didn't even know it. I want to vacation at the tip of the new South Africa and build a business that might have branches nationwide. one that I that can better help me to get the things I want. Then I realized that I was starting to whore myself just so that I could say that I wasn't another person obsessed with things. For a good while I was afraid of becoming another person obsessed with "things". And these things won't just be dreams that flood my mind while I sit like a potato living in a cloud. Out. Where I was I could barely breathe. It was about the way I saw it all: how I spent money. And I've been searching for new ways to find it. The whole thing here and now is creating a new rulebook. who I chose to work with. It's frontman. I want my kids to know what pizza tastes like in Rome and how they roll sushi in Osaka.

POSTED BY KENJI JASPER AT 9:47 AM 2 COMMENTS WEDNESDAY. I'm in today's New York Post So after a nice poor man's meal of garlic chicken. Ariann was home. AUGUST 20. I have a feeling that these are (I'm praying so) that these last days of a certain phase. 2008 This No Tournament. a publishing community that at one time was the last safe bastion for smart people in this country dumbing it down because it's cheaper than actually working to market it's products. I got beat because I got lazy. my penance for being a certain kind of hard-headed in matters of art and business. . This for Real. I found myself at the 711 compound. I needed wi-fi and mine was down. the greatest "Ebony and Ivory" combo since Gibson and Glover. I whined and complained (here and out in the world) for so long that I went from tortoise to hare. I saw it all. So I came through and took a proper trip to download city with season one of Dexter as my in-flight entertainment. home to my main man Richard Louissaint and his roommates. a shying away from in-depth articles in favor of celebrity fluff. I saw so much of this coming so long ago: the plucking of hip-hop culture from the hands of its own media outlets. I've always able to speed out of the blast area just before the doomsday explosion. Chris and Rich were out at a Platinum Pied Pipers listening party. But this time I got caught up in the details. My scripts didn't have to adhere to industry rules because the ideas were just too dope to be ignored. Whether I ever admitted it or not I always had this attitude that being talented was enough. but my ego told me that there was no way in hell that it was going to affect me. In a life filled with misadventures. Ariann and DJ Contrasounds. I didn't have to alter the way I structured my life because I'd never had to do that before. red beans and rice and collard greens.

weed smoke. The winds of change are circles all around me. mourning the death of a child that wasn't mine. Out. and that it might also be a year where I found success again after a career that had started off so well. that I would finally taste the wine of astonishing success that had eluded me for so long. I was certain that it was going to be a good thing. But that's not always as easy as it sounds. Out. "Stop thinking about 36. fresh out of a love affair I should have never gotten into. I was about 28 at the time. I needed to lose in order to see what it takes to be a winner in a brave new world that gives less of a fuck about the individual than it ever did before.It was the little choices. I watched Weeds and Mad Men at the crib without my cable subscription while I sipped on homemade blackberry iced tea and crafted yet another plot for world domination. love and her crew's philosophy that every man goes into a category of "date"." the voice said. All you have to do is follow the rules. to make good on the promises I had laid out for myself during the weeks that I thoughts I was going to be a daddy. "Think about 31. always ways to salvage tough situations and spin them into gold. But I shall prevail. "fuck" or "marry" (I was happy to find out that I she classified me in the third slot). exfoliating what's left of the last time I died and making way for the peace and stacks of paper on the rise like this morning's sun. Since then this has not been uncommon. A couple of years back I woke up to a voice one morning that wasn't my own. So as Ariann and I chopped it up about life. I had Haagen Daaz Rocky Road ice cream for the first time in my life (and felt a real ass for not doing it sooner). in this life or the next. strip clubs and recovery from yet another love affair. only to falter due to factors far beyond my control. Yemoja. are at the odds that stand against me. <br /><br />But instead I . What I wanted was to be a family man. but that was the first time I remember it. So when I turned 31 in a blaze of rum. But the beauty of having the Creator and the orishas and one's ancestors directly involved in your life is that there are always second chances."<br /><br />At the time I imagined 31 to be the year that I was to be initiated as a priest of my mother orisha. little decisions that slowly eroded the lead I had on so much of the competition.

Needless to say this is not the year I was expecting. I wanted someone to make babies with. Plans faltered. Stephen King hardly ever leaves the crib. something I fought long and hard to prevent. .spent the first three months of the year poorer than I had been in the three years before it. whose thigh I could lay on through bad days as she could lay on mine. My father is sick (and becoming more and more of an asshole because of it). But them it splintered into a million little pieces as well. <br /><br />Hell I get home at one in this morning in time for a show up and fuck booty call that ends with the woman in tears. Part of me still longs to chase after someone who may have never been there in the first place. Cue the 30. But such things aren't meant for me. Champagne has been replaced by seltzer and supposedly prophetic dreams that only seem to manifest for others. My cousin is growing into the spitting image of his father. this is what's left of me. Out. I mean shit. watching my goddaughter from afar and remembering the days when I dreamt freely.000 volts of purple lightning. carrying a stun gun just to be entertained by the convulsions it forces my victims into. Yeah. I'm a Jedi. Books five and six come out to critical acclaim but very little fanfare. So be it. And unlike Luke. And that makes me not want to give anything. I'm planning on cutting off my father and stepmother. But oh well such times have past and to quote Nick Lachey's album cover. Then out of the shadows came a little bit of money with the promise of much more. And New York just ain't what it used to be. Perhaps I am destined to spend the rest of my days in a little house somewhere. a windfall that might have made all my dreams of 31 true. why I keep being tested when all I've wanted it a quiet little life. The truth of it all is that the Jedi folded when they came up against a real threat and maybe my own life is following suit. My sobbing less than adequate sexual partner tells me that I'll always give more than I get back. Gigs didn't come through. and I'm getting hated on over a drink at Houlihans. <br /><br />I just don't know why these things are happening to me. my Daddy ain't gonna save me. but still failed in my efforts. when I still saw being my own man as a cool thing. me annoyed and blue balled and a general sense of disdain for my almost mutant ability to get into these odd situations where God speaks through me and comes before my own physical needs. and taking any job I can get with either the police department or the postal service.

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