Monday, June 29, 2009
Nice abs, sucky attitude.
I met him when I was 15 and he was 18. He had a problem with my age but he's a dude, I'm a chick, and he went for it anyway.
He was 3 years older and couldn't believe a girl my age was so intelligent and had common sense.
And I must say, I'm one of a kind. I'm pretty strange but I'm not boring.
I forget how many months we were going out. All I remember is the stress from it.
He was rude and obnoxious. He got into my head and made me believe that I was soo special and then tried to bend me to his will every chance he got. He was insecure. A little bit possessive. Immature at the wrong times. One of those types where it's all about him. Whenever we have a conversation, it's always HIS goals (that he never fulfilled) or HIS dreams (which are unrealistic) or sex.
sex sex sex sex sex.
A turn off.
He was a libra. Freaky bastards.
I digress. He was so interesting at first. I loved our conversations. We talked about the future, school, getting jobs, college, clothes, people, weather, seasons...
He was such a refreshing face! I had just stopped going back to my first love and the dude I was dating in between was no longer interested in me.
And here comes this attractive guy, with good conversation, nice teeth and skin...
I'm was mostly influenced by the movie Love Jones though. It had just came on 20 mins before I met Malcolm. I took it as a sign.
Can you blame me?
Our first argument:
Me: I don't smoke weed. And you can't pass that test you need for your job if you keep doing it.
Him: *Rolls a blunt and inhales* Mhm.
Me: Bye Malcolm
Him: *laughing* you mad?
That first argument led to other arguments about me cheating on him, seeing other dudes, not doing what he wanted in bed...
On and on and on for months.
I remember very clearly, I had a very bad day. I needed him to support me emotionally.
He was nowhere to be found. Wouldn't answer my calls. And when he did and I complained about his bullshit, I get this response:
Malcom: Look I don't have time to hear you scream okay. I'm trynna do what I wanna do. I work now. I got a job. I don't want to hear all of this.
Me: But you said you were going to be there for me.
Malcolm: When I said I was gonna be there for you, I didn't mean it literally!
Sad part is: He really said that shit. Just like that. I'll never forget it.
And somehow I just let it roll off of me, but I didn't call him again. We lost contact over the years.
I found out he had sex with an old friend of mine and on his old myspace there are pictures of his new baby boy.
And every now and again he would message me and try to reach me but I was still too angry to even take notice.
Fast Forward to today:
Message on myspace. He sends his number. Says hey, it's been a long time, I would really like to catch up.
So I call. It's been 3 years. I'm bored and cranky, why the hell not?
It starts off a little awkward, but he's asking me how I've been, how old I am now, what I've been up to, school, college, etc...
Strike 1: SO are you single now? he asks.
Why the flock would YOU wanna know negroe? Why is it any of your concern? I ain't going backwards to your rude and crazy ass.
Strike 2: (Talks mostly about himself and career goals for 45 mins)
*Please note, I stayed on the phone this long because my aim buddies suck. Alot. And sleep was not an option. Followers, do you have aim? Let's chat so we can avoid another situation like this*
Strike 3: Malcolm: "it's almost a yr to the day we started talking. and don't think im trynna get with u or nothin, oh no it's nothing like that but remember we said if it didn't work out we would meet back up when u were 18"
SO WHY BRING IT UP THEN?
What's your game, Malcolm cuz I really DON'T feel like playing.
Plus I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER SAYING THAT SHIT!
And the kicker of the story!!!
Strike FOUR: Have you ever lived one of your fantasies? Because I would love to see you (insert explicit nature of threesome here)
Me:..........Listen i got some1 on the other line so ima speak to u another time.
Malcolm: alrite but call me when----
The fuckery. The pure, unadulterated fuckery. The nerve. His own kid should smack him for that one.
Just no words. Again. I sure know how to pick them. SMH!
Needless to say he won't get a call back. Moral of the story: Keep the skeletons in the closet. They're ugly to look at in broad daylight.
The things I do out of boredom.
Friday, June 26, 2009
I have to write down ten honest truths about myself.
9. My ex-boyfriend Malcolm used to pyschologically abuse me. I blocked most of that relationship out of my mind but some scars will always stay with you. Literally.
10. I don't know how to ride a bike, nor do I want to learn. When I was younger, I was always forced to go to the annual block party. I HATED it. I hated the crowd and I hated the hyper little boys who used to ride and skateboard around me all the damn time. One time, I was walking with some Kool-Aid in my hand. All I was doing was crossing the street. It was some goodass Kool-Aid because it had all of my attention. I didn't even see the boy on the bike coming until he was damn near on top of me. I got ran over by a bike and the Kool-Aid went flying all over the street. Fuck My Life
But I'll be back with that idea!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Some small part of me (deep, deep down in the trenches of my being) thinks that I should not be this damn excited over some damn cat ears.
What am I 7?
Well at heart...
I'm actually only 9.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
C. Wright Mills
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
blackivy103 : it IS !
Haat16 : ooooooooooo cuz every time i see it i giggle
blackivy103 : lol this makes me want a cookie
Haat16 : ?
blackivy103 : mind fucking always leaves me hungry
Haat16 : o it just leaves me feeling bloated and confused
blackivy103 : lmfaoooo
Compliments of aim. I thought it was funny.
Monday, June 8, 2009
I like those unattainable men.
The ones that fight so hard that you can never tell how sensitive they really are.
I like the ones who joke around too much.
The ones who let themself become ruled by the streets
the streets can never love them like I do.
I like men who disappear.
And this applies to all of the people I've dated
Or had an emotional connection to.
I like those men who keep me up at night
holding my stomach
trying to calm down those persistent butterflies.
I don't like christmas gifts
I don't like saying hi drive bys
I don't like anxiety.
I don't like sleeping.
...well now that those random thoughts are over....
All of that was inspired by Jill Scott's Insomnia, A conversation with my friend Six and A dream I had a week ago.
And these next lines will forever haunt me. I will always relate to them. And I'm not sure if I will ever be grateful for that.
(time to wake up, put on my strong face and hope that no one will know)
You have managed to turn me from a woman of substance
Calling too damn much
Crying and crying
Way down down low
With flats on
From the opposite side of the bar
Loaded on top of your car
I never intended to be this chick.
Groping at smoke for her mind
Or the readily dissolving remnants of it
After being chased
I've been dismissed
As just an object
Something to play with
You have managed to turn me
From a woman of substance