Posts tagged ‘Fort Lauderdale’

The Life of the Party (Time to Go) Final Chapter

Photographer: IG @jamieblak

There were only two things that I wanted to see happen within the next couple of hours and that was for me to leave this party and get back to the comfort of my four sacred walls.  As I counted the stars, my mind drifted off as I began to think about the placement of every item in my apartment.  The brick wall in my bedroom near the window was such a comforting thought for me.  I imagined myself sitting on the window sill with the window and blinds opened exposing the gritty, black fire escape; me, smoking a fat blunt and communing with the universe about the small joys within my personal space.  I imagined that my retro record player would be belting out soothing tunes of smooth jazz as my nerves fell victim to its cunning notes and flirtatious rifts.  In the distance from way down below my apartment window, I could hear a faint noise of a woman yelling up from the street at the top of her lungs in my direction.  It sounded like the woman was yelling, “Nina! I’m back! Earth to Nina!” I put the blunt down and stuck my head out of the window to see who was yelling and ended up jumping out of my vision to see Jada standing in front of me holding a fat blunt saying, “This one’s yours.”  A big grin crept across my face like it was a slave to my glee and I snatched the blunt, “I’ma love you forever girl!” then hugged and pulled Jada down onto the couch with me.  I told her I was over this scene and that I wanted to leave sooner than later and if she was partied out as yet.  She said she’s ready too because she had another party to hit afterward and wanted to get a head start on it.  I stared at her with the WTF face and asked, “Was this a part of the original plan because I don’t remember agreeing to that part nor do I don’t wanna go.” She shot a look back at me and was like, “I knew your party pooping ass wouldn’t want to go so I’ll take you back to your car and then I’ll go by myself because it’s up our way anyway.” I then exhaled with relief.  The anxiety that was rising within me when she initially mentioned the 2nd party quickly subsided.  I decided to put the blunt Jada gave me up until I got home as a celebratory smoke session for making it through the night, I was satisfied.

I came to this party filled with ideas of everything that could possibly go wrong which had me dying inside.  I overcame the obstacle of staying home yet another night and evaded the urge to remain hostage to my anxiety.  Tonight we came and we conquered, the party was our playground in our world of freedom and fun.  I did everything that I was afraid of which was quite entertaining, but now it’s time to go home.

~The Lyricist


Am I a lesbian?

Back in the day I had a type.  I was youngER, inexperienced, and believed that I knew exactly what I wanted.  No one couldn’t tell me anything, especially my mama, the woman who told me every damn thing. Lol I took it as a personal challenge to do the complete opposite of every and anything that she asked/told me to do.  As a minor, an advanced minor at that, I’ll say about 15 or 16 years old I knew what kind of boys I was into.  The rules of my single parent household was, “No Boys UNTIL.” Mama knew something that I didn’t, but at 15/16 years old no meant yes and that’s just the way things were for me.  I loved challenges and I still do.  

The other day I went through some old journals that I wrote around that age and it hit me.  I was naive as fuck…that’s how it was for most teenage girls, young and inexperienced. I had this if you screw up once I’m screwing you over twice & it’s over for you indefinitely attitude.  I was attracted to light-skinned dudes and neighborhood thugs. The absence of my father seemed to push me in the direction of everything he wasn’t.  In reality I had no clue what a father’s love truly was and if I did, I didn’t remember. I thought to myself what was my type? I was attracted to boys who gave me a hard time, I figured if he gave me a hard time he truly cared about me and at least he stuck around to give me a hard time.  As time went by I started believing that all the boys were the same so I started dating girls.  Funny thing is at that time I figured I was dating girls to take a break from boys and not because I was getting hurt or played. Reality is a hard check to cash at the Arab store on everything.  Lol

I liked dating women so much that I held on to the lifestyle for about 7 years.  I quit boys then grew into the mindset of not dealing with men either.  I grew into adulthood dating women and never had a serious relationship with a man.  It’s hilarious to me at times when I share with people the very fact that I’ve never had a serious relationship in my adult life with a man before.  Am I a lesbian? No. Am I still dating women? No. Am I still attracted to women? *smiles to self* ‘What dat mind do baby?’  Lol Now that I’m getting older and moving on to different stages of my life I’m not so big on the idea of starting a family with a woman.  Love and light to my lesbian sistahs but I want to be with a man and start a family naturally, with my best friend, my husband, my right hand.  How does a woman whose values have been elevated through experience but expectations tainted with doom from those same experiences commence a healthy relationship with the same species of people that caused the rift to begin with? Answer: Get to know Cherokee better.  Do things with Cherokee more.  Travel with Cherokee even more and pray hard and keep the faith. That’s how.  I learned that I attracted everything I was afraid of because I was too comfortable to raise the bar.  I allowed people to treat me in ways that I wouldn’t treat myself because I didn’t love me enough.  I settled not because my father wasn’t always around, but because I didn’t tend to my personal issues long enough before attracting and tending to other people while I was still in pain.  So accepting the pain that was given to me was a way of ignoring what went terribly wrong deep down inside… a sick way of forgiving myself and those that caused it.

When I started writing this blog I had no clue where exactly I was going with it, but I suppose I’ll end it here.  This is my personal thought on a matter that I’ve ignored for years…I’m not perfect and I’m so happy that I’m not because I’d be a boring, square, piece of shit. *awkward silence* And that’s all I have to say about that.

~The Lyricist




How can I say you’re my friend if I have to ask myself this question? Questions are only posed when the mind or heart is in doubt and an answer is the only cure for relief.  I hate going through these particular labyrinths…it’s hard enough to have to find my way through but now I have to find my way through while making sure that I’m not trying to make it through for the wrong reasons.  I don’t want to commit to a situation that will only cause me harm, but now the only way to be loyal is to commit and the only way to decipher if it’s dangerous or not is if I…commit.  What do you do when your intuition has questions? If you are who you say you are to me then why don’t I believe you? I believe the weatherman when he says its 75 degrees outside & there may be a slight chance of rain…and I don’t even know that man. It’s funny how life works itself out.  If life works itself out so well I believe it’s only fit that life trains me…and it has..because of the intense workout plan of life, I trust no one.

Please don’t fault me for being cautious…please don’t hold me responsible for the unease of your heart…please don’t blame me for your uncertainty… and please don’t burden me with the thought that all the things I’m asking politely for is in vain.  I just want the best for me.  Every time I lose focus on what the best is for Cherokee…for Juliet…shit gets real.  My passion lives within my soul and I share it with whomever I feel will respect it, try to understand it, and care enough to stifle self righteous endeavors to accommodate it; Besides….that’s what I’d do.  I’d look beyond the demand of my own heart to relieve the strain that the demand of my friend’s dream is causing on their heart…that’s passion. You feel it, you share it, you feed it, you receive it, you Become.

I’m a pollen grain trapped in a beehive… vulnerable to being ridiculed, mistreated, and an edifying source of satisfaction to the one{s} who feel my sincerity and play me for it.  What am I supposed to do? It tears me up inside to know that I have so much love to give not necessarily intimate love, but genuine platonic love.  Love is an action that creates feelings that stick.  I care so much about so much and to see this is to believe it and folks take advantage so much.  I observe with my spirit, it discerns right from wrong…good from evil and levitates my existence so existing shouldn’t be so hard…but it is.

I’m not upset or unhappy with the way the relationships in my life are progressing…or not.  I’m concerned.  I attract what I want and evade what I despise, I love what & who I care about while pacing my mind to believe that all of this is okay.  When things go wrong I take the blame because I should know better, like I should have known when to end that conversation or when to question that situation.  Intuition…that’s your job right Mr. Intuition?? Aren’t you supposed to step in as a quick adviser, my trustworthy inner consultation headquarters, lodged in place to give my conscious reasoning a break? Lol I dunno it all yo…I just know that when a feeling is created it’s not summoned for the sake of merely existing. It’s there to raise garnish what whomever is involved is feeding off of…wow…I’m in over my head now…all I want is to be understood…and to understand why is it that I have to take mental voyages through personal experiences and things that I’ve learned to try to decipher the intentions of a “true friend.”

Let Me Through Please...

Life goes on, it always will and sometimes there’s no real way of knowing beforehand what you’re getting into unless you take a leap of faith and simply, get into it.  I approach life with caution…adhere to my responsibility…avoid shifting blame…and write profusely and pray impulsively to shift any burden that the demand of a stately living may require by pushing them through the avenues that I’ve set up to dilute them and immortalize them in a manner where the next man can learn from my mishap, if any, and do just the same.  And even after all of that, I still don’t know who you are.  I guess we never really know until the shit hits the fan huh? *Shrugs*

~The Lyricist

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