Dear Diary#3

Dear Diary#3

This is the part 2 of what it is like. I new that he was talking shit bout me to those who “ care “ about him.

HOw am I suppose to feel about any of this. What are the appropriate thoughts I should have? What do I get out of this?

The child I had an hand in, in raising. In influencing, In shaping has sooo much to say when I give options to rectify. When I was addressed by the adults. All I heard was excuses.

I’m so glad That I’m able to feel as free as I want to be now. Now that he is leaving my house I can feel the calm that came before this man made storm. I brought this on to myself because I though that this guy was worth it. You see, people bring up the fact that he’s 18. But! When things are supposed to go his way, he’s a man and should have the liberties to do what it is that he wants to do.

To me! That Is straight bull shit. Yes I was on my own. A lot more than he was. He was sheltered more than me. But! This is the way the world is operating. I’m doing what I would call a merciful crulty. Although to me it’s not cruel. But if you aren’t me and do not know what It is that I know. You’ll see I’m being truly kind. This to me makes me feel Iike I’m Thano’s in the MCU. Where everyone thought he was the bad guy by how he went about his business. No! I’m not killing anyone . BUt! I am being hard on the young man because. All he knows is comfort. What happens to a man in the real world who only knows comfort. He becomes another mans bitch! Or even a woman’s bitch! And with that. Too be a woman’s bitch, to me, is worse! Because, most of all, women that is, have expressed. That’s not what they want. Not what they Value. Not what they, most..... importantly respect!!!

If a woman does not respect you. You have lost already. Men! They will always be around. You can always do something to make a man want you. The trick is, you just have to be consistent. But! Women! No! Because the world is so unnecessarily hard on them. They wont take less than, from any man. They will use you until they spit you out! This is why I’m hard on him. He’s a fool for that good, good. And yes it’s happened to him more than once. He’s an introvert. So he does not talk about his feelings. BUt! Only lets you know what he want you to know so he can use you to his benefit. Something I have seen in him and will continue to disconnect myself from him for! His mother will always be a mother. But! To me he’s a shitty person.

Especially when all you have to do is ask. I will no longer be willfully blind to the actions of those who are around me or involved in my life. I’ve developed a new love language and it is called consistency. If you are consistently being an amazing person to me. I will be to you. But! No longer will I do this fucking stupid Jesus shit where I see and Minimize what I see happening in front of me. This is what I think the young man has come to me to for. In writing this, I did not think this at all until I started to ramble like morning birds on a tired day in my head. Thank you for these thoughts today, Tumbler Diary.  

A little goes a long way!

I woke up today at 3:00am.... it was relatively dark. I usually wake up at 5 to do some ill attempt at working out. But! when I woke up today. My body knew it was too early. In my large queen size bed. Half dressed in clothes I dare not put away because well. I 'm a mess. When I need to look do things its hard to find them because they are folded and I cannot Identify what's what! I turn over from facing my wall. To the large pile of clothes that literally take up half of my bed.

In the pile, I sift through the close to find my phone and Wa La. I find my phone and the time of 03:00. From here, I turn back over to face the wall and recover myself with my blanket that's half swallowed by my clothes. The room is cold. And my body is starting to be alert as if I'm awake now. Annoyed at the fact my body is waking up. So does my consciousness. Drifting from the silent space of empty thought. In to this warm aware and loud sounding space in my head.

I turn from the wall on to my back and glare up at the ceiling. Bored already. Time is beginning to move. I don't want to get up. I not want to move my body and force this fat that's been keeping me warm to leave. My natural winter coat. Keeping still, I lay there. lightly thinking of what exercises I should do. This is a morning of many. Bored with this routine, I glare away from the ceiling to my phone and scroll the ticktock. Bored even further with the usuals of what's my (for you) page until I come across. The show "What would you do?"

I like this show because it is a light form of social experiments. Putting people in predicaments to see if they will or will not step up in a time of need. So I watched a few clips and then drift over to YouTube from ticktock. Because the episodes are much longer on YouTubes platform. There I watch some interesting ones. And ones that are a lot more serious. I think I watched five. In this time I have wasted my sleep time watching videos. Now! I'm even more annoyed with myself. I should have just went back to sleep. It's 06:00 and Now I'm up writing. lol

But! one of the videos struck a cord for this entry. The spoiled child! the last video was about a parent who was on a budget of $100.00 and a child who was rude and mean to his mom. He wanted the $200.00 sneakers and she could only afford the $100.00 sneakers. the scene begins where they walk into he store and he's a head of her. She kindly and politely reminds him of there budget a he starts to call her stupid and yell at her. Then he tries to get people on his side. But! Of course the other adults, sided with the mom. And also tries to reason with the 13 year old boy.

Then, this has me thinking about my own experiences. With my mother. Where, one, she would have literally slapped me. And also embarrassed me too for speaking to her like that. And two, she would have gotten a pair of shoes for me without me knowing. I would have been told I have a new pair. That would have been that. Event though my mother took us clothes shopping it was always, stand here and hold that. Or! I would look very annoyed and wait for her to shut the hell up because she decided to have this long drawn out conversation with who'm ever she met that day. About me and how fast I was growing. And how expensive I was becoming for her. HUmmm It's not like I gave birth to myself.

Many times I have heard my mother talk bout how she provided for me and my brother in a way that was triggering for her! (My words not hers) Meaning. She got us all the things that she never had. We did all the things that she was not able to do when SHE was young. so! This has me thinking! About the scenario on "What would you do?" If this was real. Are people projecting on to their children, the way my mother was to me? And if so! Is this the behavior that has come from it? And! Is it the Childs fault? Behaving this way, when in fact. The child is not having their own unique experience. But a parallel reality to their parents. To me this is not a real reality. Parents living through there children are not giving their children what it is the actual child needs. To me its a double edge sword. Can we say that this is emotional vampirism. I give you what you need but I give it to you in the way that feeds me from you?

All this thinking so early in the morning. lol So then, I started to think about another time that I've come across this. My house guest was having an issue with for all intended purposes his stepfather. My house guest's mother and her man are common law married. They have been together for 10 plus years. I believe in the state of New York that is Common law. There have been many ups and many downs. Sided with a plethora of arguments of thee most mundane. At least I thought they were silly until I stopped riding my high horse. Down I came with a lent ear. I wanted to know why they argued all the time.

My house guest was much younger than he is now. When this specific situation occurred. And his response was that there's no space. Which I do agree. It maybe a 3 bedroom apartment but there's more than four people living there. Space was defiantly an Issue. The other reason given was that! there was nothing for him to do! You can imagine my surprise when I heard that response. Nothing? there's nothing you could do!? He says no! So I asked. You need to go further in explanation. How could there be noting for you to do? There's outside. There's the internet. And he just me off and says that he's not allowed to go outside. He's not allowed to be on the internet at a certain time. I gasped for air. I Was lost and confused as to why would you not be allowed to go outside or be on the internet.

To. me I thought he was being dramatic. So I go to his stepfather and asked what's wrong. I know it was none of my business. From time to time we all need to talk about what it is that others us. I'm in my 30's and well my generation is the bridge I like to think that has just begun to say it is okay to have feelings and express them too. The stepfather is pushing 60 I think. I know that he is in his mid to late 50's. In his. time men were raised to be emotionless. Not that they could not show emotion. It was that they could not show one's that made people think less of them.

I understood that I had to walk on egg shells. That this person has a strong history of feeling emotionally attacked. with all this being said it took me a few hours to pierce his wall and let him know that he was in a safe space with me. That what ever was said would be safe. Not shared and not made fun of. Listening is just not, If not, more effective for people's spirit than actually talking. Listening with out interjection. Listing without faces and judgment can really bring life back in to a place that was bare and raw. I eventually had to ask him questions when he started to slow down in his expressions. What had come from this was that his father was never home. His father never cared what he did or did not do. He didn't feel protected. Valued or cared for. So inches way this was how she was showing it to my house guest. But! I tried to explain to him. That what he's expressing to my guest was not his issue. What he is seeing with you is a man who won't let him do anything. A man who's hard on him. and for what?

I love listening to people speak. Because in that second of me telling him what he said. Playing it back of him. Word for word. Slowly. He then realized. How his step son felt. How his feelings were being projected on to my house guest and that he also does that in other areas of his life. Has he changed? A bit! He's much older now! From when this situation happened. Because he is a man who has been taken and manipulated by the system and fell into it's traps. He still has a long way to go. Before he is fully different. But! what is important is that he is man who cares for his children and stayed. I can not believe I've gotten all this from laying down in bed, being bored.

Dear Tumbler Diary #4.

This drill weekend has brought forth so much opportunity. I’m great full. That the Gods have answered my prayers. Fun fact about me! I’m not Christian. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. I say it jokingly but! I’m not! I’m a worshiper of the 7 AFRICAN POWERS. And Eleggua has heard my prayers. And has been intending to my thoughts. My thoughts of these past weeks were. “ What the fuck! Am I going to do!?” You see I’m a soldier, a warrior. And no I’m not tooting my own horn. It’s modernized. but! Yes, I’m down to fight for all that jazz and glamour of being here in this country. I have no issues with her. Her being Bitch America.

For she birth me and my ways of thinking. IF you haven’t read most of. My post already. i have mommy issue. I can’t seem to trust them. They always seem to fail me one way or another. With all this being said. I actually love what I do. I love being close with people who get what it’s like. The likeness of having a purpose to do! The likeness of to help and to protect and to have purpose. I know were all complicated people qt the end of the day. Even when we think that were not. We are!

America and her 2nd son Big army has employed me to do a job of helping people. Helping direct them int he direction they need to be in, in order to get the vaccine and other covid related things. I was on Covid mission for a few months an made a very pretty penny. Since then I have now a beautiful living space and a nice car to call my own. with all of this, has come a bit of an extra serving of money. Money that America and dear Uncle Sam have accidentally given me. $3,000.00 Now! I have to put that back.. Ohh wait sorry, wrong version! There taking it back and blindsidingly so!

Two months ago. I had to go to drill and I was gone for 54 whole days. In army money that makes up a big chunk of money. Money that adds onto the next week for me. So! What they givth they Takith a way. My check at that time was very close to $900.00 and they only have me $200. When usually I get $600.00 from my other job. I hate to say it like this but! What the fuck am I going o do wit $200.00 THIS SHIT BLEW MINE. Not to mention. All of my big boy bills ar will over $500.00 so i started to delay my funds. Take from one to put to another. This Fuckery of my supposed favorite Uncle. With my housing and check and all other things pushed back by two weeks. I begun to freak out and shut down. To where I watch reruns of Grey’s anatomy and analyze the faces of the actors. “ Then questions “What did I ever see in this ep” to believe in the acting? Or! I try to sleep and cant, then I have to wake up fully just to start my day.

You see I use to be a Drifter… A male Gypsy. Floating from couch to couch. Now with a place all of my own. I felt free I felt liberated. I felt or feel like I can o anything that I want to do. I NO longer feel like I’m bound by the social rules of being polite. Of feeling like if I don’t that I’ll lose out. I don’t call it fake. i call it being in survive mode. A mode that i do not like to be in.

bREak up’S aRen’t only ROMAntic

Today.... I stopped thinking as an individual. I selflessly put my needs to the side and I thought of another. My sister. Now! before you start to think that how Could I categorize that as selfless, it’s normal to do that!. Please keep in mind that not all people! not all... Organic family structures are the same. My sister and I are recently getting a long.

And I have to say that in a very loose. Like stretched out taffy loose way. Because I still don't think that we get a long very well. But! there's a mutual respect among us. Our relationship has been strained due to how we were raised.

 I recently went though a break up. I broke up with my mother. You see. She, herself, is one of the many people who have been effected by the life of Black Harlem. In the era of the 70′s and early 80′s. Raised by a broken mother as well. A mother who never received help, Mentally,emotionally and in my personal opinion spiritually too. With this information. I just went over three generations. Myself. my mother and my mothers mother (aka) grandmother. All three people, including myself are people who in many way are emotionally voided, depleted. And in great need of great affection, validation and attention from our nuclear family units.

My grandmother is a very strong woman. (Lets call her Elsie) And! it’s not because she wants to be. My great Grandmother (Lets call her Barbra ) was not a very strong woman. She was a woman succumbed by her circumstance. To me that’s all fine and dandy.,,,, Why?,,,, you say?... Well..... Giving that (Barbra) was born and raised in North Carolina in the 1930‘s I have to say. She’d been though enough.

The way that I was able to get a good idea of what life was like back then (Elsie) are through movies. Such as ”What’s love got to do with it. “ Starring (Angela Bassett) or “The Help.” Staring (Viola Davis & Emma stone) and these movies takes place in the 60′s and 70′s. Now! For my great GRANDMOTHER! (Barbra) I believe She did the best that she could with what she knew how. She was not a scholar or a highly educated woman. But! she was loving, tolerant & mildly strong. But! that’s always been the case when it comes to women of color. They’re strong!

In these long drawn out rants I’m trying to paint you some details on how I have become the way that I have. By giving you the (reader) a clear understanding of my family history, I can avoid you guys thinking I’m a complete asshole. I swear, I’m just half of one! My great grandmother, as far as I know was a maid. and she’d done that for some time. Now! the kicker here is that I’m getting all of this second hand. Not from the horses mouth herself. When I was young. like say..... 10 or even 11 she must have been in her mid 50′s. I knew not what to ask. I also was not it he mindset like I m now to ask her.

When I became much older and more inquisitive about why people were behaving the way that they were in my family. Secrets begun to spill! ...Ahhh that's a lie, more like sprinkle! Yes Sprinkle!!! Over the years I would get little pieces here and there that would not add up until I had done my own psychology study. Started to plug two and two together to make 22!!!!  My grand mother married or at least had relations with a man who was very wealthy. As far as I know. They birth one child together. My grandmother (Elsie) And choose to not stay around for too long.

Here’s where the discord, resentment and self loathing comes into  the family tree. My supposed great grandfather had ambition that out weighed what my great grandmother could even fathom. He asked her what her goals were. What she wanted in life. He asked her if she wanted to have the full American dream. A house and home full of children. As I try my best to understand. Where she’s from. Where her people before her may have come from. Ultra humble beginnings. Her understanding of life. to see why she had mad the choice she had! The twist to this is that My supposed great grandfather was rich.And an Indigenous man. And my grandmother is half African American and half indigenous as well. Two cultures. two huge differences.

From what I understand is that Native American or Indigenous people like to stick with there own. And so does Black women today too. .. Supposedly.. This was a time where people (from my understanding) were not about Racially or ethnically mixing. Despite the fact Barbra is mixed herself. With these pivotal details. He left my grandmother because He felt she was okay with a plate of food and watching TV. I know there has to be more to her story. I wish I had found out sooner. Now! I may have to call her spirit to find out more. And interpretation can get a little messy. 

With all of these colors that painting this family portrait. Barbra had moved on in her life and actually married another man (I can confirms this.) A man who added to the brew of sorrow. I wont give you his last name. But his first name was James. And boy he was a sorry mother fucker. He was an abusive husband and a rapist. As well as a child predator. He would beat on Barbra and rape Elsie, until she had enough and fought back. I also know for a fact that he raped my great uncles and aunts too. All the women in the ranks of great aunts. Don’t allow men to do certain things, even jokingly. They were very, very, over protective of us the children. Even from the males in our family.

From the trauma my grand received from 13 and up. She had become a cold woman. At least to me, this is what I saw.  As a child I was nervous to be around her. Her face, although it showed emotion. It never seemed to shine with light. The blank looks in her eyes. And female baritones of her voice. If you need a sad but accurate portrait of how she looks and an even better on in how she behaves. Just watch the actress “Monique“ in the movie (Precious.) I don't like to bad mouth anyone (who’s family) or make myself seem like “Oh! poor me! But these are just the facts of my life. When I watched the movie “Precious” I could not think of anyone else.

Yes, the movie does feel like how my mother had been raised.My grand had five children all together. And my mother is the eldest. A torch I bare myself. now! As far as the horses mouth! I fed this one myself. I had been cornered by Elsie one day at one of my baby cousins birthday party's. I guess the guilt was ridding her. It was very unexpected. However.... I do have to say, I did pray to “Ochun“ that week. I forgot what for! But! I will give where credit is due. Ochun had given me the clarity I needed to heal from this generational curse.

My grand had come over and literally corned me. She pulls me to the side and begins to sorrow vomit all over me. I was so confused and then I begun to be very sad. You see. I have always heard stories of how my grandmother would beat the kids and how she was extra as fuck. But! when your a teenager and you haven't been through stuff like. What they’re describing. You can only start to think that these are some hate’n ass bitches. Until you hear it straight from the source herself. She proceeds to tell me how. She ain’t shit, wasn't shit and how she don't wanna be a piece of shit anymore!

Standing there, hearing all of those shitty things she had done to my mother and her siblings made me really fucking down. At the moment I was like why the fuck is she telling me all of this. That moment I take it in strides of what that could have meant. Or what it is. depending on my mood and what I’m feeling the meaning changes. I think, at times I was a proxy for her. Since her and my own mother do not speak at all. Other times I look at it as the family history I need to know. In order to know whats happening for the future. The details are how we are. How we have gotten to this place in our family. It’s terrible that the details are sucky. But they’re important.

My mother! Man this woman is a vault of locked secrets. Unfortunately I cant say that about her legs. Any time my mother gets around her type of man. I can mentally see her oozing honey from her Venus fly trap. Legs, springing wide open. Eyes hypnotizing her unknowing victim. (lol) As vivid as that sounds my moms not a slut! I swear!. My mother is an educated woman. A woman who is about her house and home and herself. and always herself. And herself and herself.

Despite being raised by a trauma ridden mother. My mother to me was always dramatic. And has always responded to me as If I was the one who caused her situation to be worse than, what SHE mad it out to be. I should stop writing her as my mother and write her as egg downer. I’m in my feelings.

It’s abundantly clear to me that she never wanted children. Her actions speak louder than her words. However when you tell a narcissist that you would do something for them that's not about them. They tend to make it more about them, When it actually isn't. And get mad about it! (for better context) My mother hid me from my father until I was five years old. That is until the whistle blower. Barbra, spilled the beans to my fathers side of the family. And told them that there’s a new baby in our family and I believe that he is yours too. I tried asking these questions and I get the same reply all the time. It was a challenging time for me. (But! I have questions I have the right to be answered.)

My aunt on my fathers side, told me that she had offered to adopt me if my mother wanted to continue to live her life. I don’t think that the offer was out of spite or malice. I do believe that she had and still has all of the best intentions for me then and even now. Albeit, that’s how the cookie crumbled

 I know She has a lot of trauma. I know she needs psychological help . Or accept it and then whoosah that out!  But! that’s something I cant help her with. Therapy is only for those who seek help. Who actually want it. For most of my child hood I felt Like I was an adult. Always carefully making decisions. Doing stuff  that would give me anxiety. Or having very adult conversations about shit I should not be in. Over all I’m an adult now. With a little bit more sound mind. I’m no longer a child and burdened with the thoughts of how can I deal with this now.

She abandoned me when I was 16. Barley even spoke to me in my 20′s and now in my 30′s. Fully stable and having an amazing career. you wanna start talking to me. You wanna be more active in my life. Be the more motherly. Gurl... bye!!!! I feel the relationship between us is too strained.

For the  sake of honestly and for the sake of me telling you all about my family and its truth. I have tried with her. I allowed her to be in my life. and without skipping a beat she acts as if nothing between us has never occurred. For some people that's cool and okay. For me, I just put up Berlin Walls and barbwire for boundaries. because actions are habitual. At first people try. They may even change. But! When complacency hits! They go back into the same habits. I say this Because that Is what happened. She wanted me to do more for her than she she was willing to do for me. She continuously invalidate what I want. My beliefs and my actions. So, I told her that I can not continue having her in my life. She does not see where she has gone wrong but that is a decision she has made. She’s selfish!

In her selfishness. we had to learn how to deal with her on a day to day basis. Which is why I say “ I too: have issues as well. But! I will not let them pass on to my children.” I mean, I’m the only one who can! My sister cut out her testicles. I mean what the fuck. Now the burden of having children falls on to my shoulders. Besides children, being an Issue. I have to say that my sister in personality is very much like my mother. I’ve also put her on the back burner. She is the pot of beans I put on the stove. But have not turned on. Her energy and personality is too dam extra at times when I’m trying to chill & be breezy.

Well. recently that hot tempered extra person. Done and went down and simmered. Which for me, is not normal at all. I’d rather seem my sister annoyed than sad. Because I don't know what she would do if she’s too sad. That scares me! I have no clue what to do if she was too, too sad. This simmering pot of water I need her to be at a boil. But! she would not allow me to know what’s going on with her. Until It was a bit much for her to hold in. This year alone three of her friends/ associates has died. And one of her really good cis female friends had gotten into a very rough car crash where her face and the steering wheel were basically one. Not to mention she he self is living a life that most deem problematic.  

To be continued...   

People before the internet probably thought they were a lot more original.

Dear Diary #2

Today is another day in the life that I wish I had better control over. Recently I had done a reading for this Philly photographer I know of. for some shrooms. I had an interesting experience the first time I had tried it. So I wanted to try it again.

He's in town for New York fashion week. He stopped by my job to drop them off. Honestly I was a bit annoyed by him because he took an additional 3 hours to get to me. He through me off track for the evening. I have a nightly routine I like to keep to. I work out when I wake up, go to work and work out before I go to sleep.

Well, after getting the shrooms, I have to say that I honestly hesitated to take them. I was alone that night. And people have always said that if you're not experienced in it that you should not take them alone.... But! I did anyway. I like to make tinctures or teas. Instead of taking them flat out. To me I think it's easier to control them that way. If I have felt I've taken too much I can always dilute it. Or! so I thought.

After a few days of contemplating if I should do it or not. I evenly took out my portable coffee grinder. Placed the bits and pieces of the shrooms into the grinder and ground them into a course mix and added it to a tea that I had brewed for fat loss. Man!!!! was that shit nasty. lol There was not enough brown sugar in the world to replace that taste. lol

After taking a few sips, I was not feeling anything at all so I started to gulp it. Five min started to pass. Then ten, around twenty minutes. I started to hear the Tv slur. Which slightly freaked me out. I was too shocked because the high's I've ever experienced were head highs. Not body highs and this! This high, was both. I stared laughing for what ever reason. I was very confused about it. I felt like a child. I really did! I was scared & confused because I did not know what I should expect. But! at the same time I felt safe and wanted. Weird! right!?

My mind was too nervouse think about anything. Honestly all I could focus on was the good and not the bad. My shroom experience made me realize. I am not alone. I'm not a terrible man, I'm not hateful as much as I thought I was. And I'm only responding to what has been presented to me and this is not me. I'm actually a happy person. I'm beautiful or handsome if you want to add gender. I'm not a loser. I'm not alone. I have purpose and I have value. The people who walk with me in life are here because they choose to. Not because they have to. & to me that means the world. Because If you choose to do something. It says so much about the person you choose to do stuff for.

For years I have always been hard on myself. I let the experices I had define who I was. And not anymore! I'm strong enough to understand the difference between experiences and choices. All the things that I have been holding on to were and are experiences. Not my choice. Not me.

I'm not too sure if I would ever take shrooms again. I said out loud to myself several times, I don't like this feeling. I felt very whoosh and my motor functions were not the best. I felt like a methadone addict on 125th the way I was leaning in my house. The walls were trailing as I passed by them. I like it and did not like it at the same time. Ask me in a few months and I'll tell you how I feel. Knowing me, I'll probably say yes again. lol

Albeit this is me sharing my experience with you. Not! telling you to do it. I needed to know for myself what this was about and I was curious about it. Since, I've done a very small amount before this experience. I also called my Enchantress friend. So technically I was not a lone. even though She lives in the next state over!