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#the wedding invitations i made for my sister's wedding gave me the confidence boost i needed i think
ihamtmus · 3 years
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hi babes! i’ve made an instagram account for my art, i’d love to see you there! :D
i’m gonna post a lot of my old art there for now but there’s definitely gonna be some new stuff once we catch up with the present!
p.s. gabrysuje is a Very Clever Name actually - “gabrysia” is a diminutive of my name, and “rysuje” means “draw” in polish, i’m very smart 😎
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A little flirting never hurt nobody ft. Echo
Pairing: Echo x Jedi!Reader (i put some female pronounces in there but no Y/N)
Warnings: None
Words: ~0.8k
A/N: This was requested by @fabulousapple with two prompts and it took me four attempts to get it right. Hope you all enjoy my misery this little drabble.
Prompts: “Are you flirting with me?”
“You are shaking.” “I can’t feel my legs.”
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You and Anakin have been friends since he came to the temple, both of you around the same age and bonding over being discovered extremely late but still taken in. It wasn’t long until you two had a brother sister dynamic going on, and acting that way too. The council saw this as an attachment but what were they to do about it? Throw you out? Yeah no.  It continued during the whole duration of your training as padawans and when the war started, only growing closer together and supporting each other. Like you supporting him or him supporting whatever was going on between you and one of his arc troopers.  It was not long since you partook in the trials and became a jedi knight. After it they wanted you to take a battalion on your own but you declined and joined Anakin instead. You served along with him and the battalion on many occasions and it was only right to annoy your big brother every opportunity you’d get. So now here you stood in front of Anakin and Rex, getting introduced to the two Arc Troopers Fives and Echo, the later on catching your eye immediately which didn’t go unnoticed by the other three.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, General.” Oh the way he said it with the smirk on his face made you weak. Was he really trying to flirt with you right now? “Well it’s Commander for now Echo, but thanks. It is also a pleasure to meet you.” You gave him a charming smile and wink. Maker, did you just flirt back? It felt like you were throwing everything overboard the Jedi taught you because a handsome man made pretty eyes at you and talked in such a tone that had you wondering what he was implying. You felt a fluttering in your chest when he cocked his head at you and looked you directly in the eyes. Echo will surely be the death of you. The two of you completely blended everything around you out, including the three figures that took a few steps to give you some space and observe what the hell was going on between you. Echo could feel his palms growing sweaty and his knees growing weak but he didn’t falter, nor did he avert his gaze from you. He felt a sudden boost in himself and before he could think it over he said it.  “You know I have never seen someone prettier than you.” Both of you were stunned for a second before you talked.  “Are you flirting with me, Echo?” Oh the way you said his name was music to his ears. “Perhaps, is it working?” “Oh it definitely is.” Anakin, Rex and Fives were still watching the two of you dancing around each other and Echo being as bold as never before. They were silent the whole time. Fives beamed with pride upon seeing his brother so confident and shooting his shot. He was aware that since the moment you walked in that Echo was fixated on you. But man he never expected him to go for it that hard. “Can I have your private comlink frequency, Commander?”  “Oh you can have whatever you want, Arc Trooper.”  You gave him your frequency before being ushered away by Anakin and Rex for a meeting. Before you rounded the corner you looked over your shoulder and winked at him. He disappeared from view and you immediately turned bright red. “Seems like you got yourself a man now. I hope I get an invitation for the wedding.” “Oh shut up Anakin.” “I want one too.”
Echo was still standing there in shock. He still couldn’t believe that he not only just asked his new Commander, that he just met, for their comlink frequency and flirted with them but that it actually worked. Echo stared at the comlink he held in his hands. It was her private comlink. He was only shook out of his trance when Fives clapped him on the back and laughed. “I can’t believe you went for it, vod. You are shaking, are you alright?” Echo looked over at his brother for the first time with a glint of joy in his eyes. “I can’t feel my legs.” Fives burst out laughing and helped Echo over to a place where he could sit down.  “She got to you that much, huh? I am proud of you for shooting your shot but you better not let the others know about your weak old legs.” “Very funny, Fives.” “What?! I am just looking out for you!”  Echo glared at him but couldn’t shake the smile pn his face, nor could he stop thinking about you. He would definitely call and talk with you later. 
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anne1066-blog · 5 years
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30th January 2019
This is a new idea that Jane suggested because I have various things niggling at the moment and I can’t quantify them.  So this is a very private blog diary just monitoring how I’m feeling and where I’m at.  I might share it with friends or I might not.  Why put it on a public platform?  Well pressing post makes you really feel you’ve set the feelings free and put it out there even if no one actually reads it.  It worked for me before when I was getting a load of stuff out of my system regarding a failed engagement, cheating and a pretty intense relationship with a much older man who had 3 children.
Where am I at today?  Bloody knackered.  I’ve basically called in sick all week with a recurrence of a cold that didn’t have major symptoms but made me feel crappy and subhuman.  I’ve fought through it a bit to work in extreme cold and also to go an a weekend with friends in York which of course I did enjoy but I also didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have.  It felt way too short.  I need a get away from my life at the moment.  There are a lot of hard decisions to face and I know I’m not managing them all that well.
So to recap what got me to where we are today:
In 2014 I moved to Oxfordshire to set up a cheesemaking dairy.  It was a brand new start for me and had the promise to be an exciting chapter in my life.  I learned a lot from it  - how to plan a new building specifically for a cheesemaking facility, how to find the site, plan the layout, source the milk, decide on a marketable recipe, build a brand (not the first time I’d been involved in branding to be fair) and not least but troubleshoot a recipe which ended up being the achilles heel. As it turned out the milk production standards weren’t really up to the recipe we wanted to make.  After months of cheese we didn’t want to sell, I was made redundant. I don’t want to be bitter but I feel there were some bad commercial decisions made by my business partner who was meant to be in charge of sales.  She charged ahead with full scale production when the cheese wasn’t good enough to sell at full price and she also gave away vast amounts of cheese which could have been sold for at least a price that covered costs.  All of this lead to a financial crisis and that was it - I was gone.
Before that happened, I had what had was a life changing holiday around the world which happened just as the cheesemaking dairy was opening and needing to go into production - it was 6 months over schedule. It was a revelation though.  I flew to countries I had never visited and had to negotiate them by myself.  I had a couple of days in Dubai, flew through Singapore (never left the airport to be fair so it doesn’t really count), flew on to Australia and from there to New Zealand after a very brief overnight stay in a hotel near the airport and from there after driving solo around South Island to Sydney, the Cook Islands, Santa Monica, San Francisco and then home.  It took 6 weeks and it really made me feel confident; not least because after years of being invisible to any guys out there but I got attention in every place I touched down in - some rather more meaningful than others to be fair. In Dubai, I connected with our desert tour guide who was a worker from Pakistan living in the UAE (not Dubai it’s far too expensive but the more restrictive Sharjah where women’s rights are quite seriously undermined).  He was an outsider but loved the desert and remembering the way the Namib desert had made me feel many years ago, so did I.  Our fellow travellers were good time tourists so there seemed a contrast between them enjoying the desert safari tourist activities and me just enjoying the culture of the country and the stillness of the desert.  i know that makes me sound extremely up myself but I can’t think of another way to describe it.  He asked me out on a date which never happened and in retrospect that was a good thing.  I would never have realised that things like holding hands with a potential romantic partner are forbidden in Dubai nor would I have realised that normal activities like kissing a first date can actually get you taken to prison.  After Dubai, I flew to New Zealand but happened to talk to my co passenger on the flight to Adelaide and have a very interesting conversation about colonialism and England’s position in Australia - not heavy - we joked about it - food for thought all the same which s the point of travel after all.  In New Zealand, I met up again with lovely friends I hadn’t seen for years and also met up with my sister and her boyfriend and my friend Cathi’s family who welcomed us as part of their big, lovely family too. It was an amazing time to feel so incredibly accepted and welcomed. And again I connected with someone, my friend’s older brother (also the only other single person there - I may have decided unlike me to flirt a bit with him as we were the only singletons there).  He was a lovely, funny, warm guy who as a chef was a great person to cook with and this was an area we had in common.  After the wedding ended and we moved on to normal life (him) and the rest of my holiday (me) we stayed facebook friends and he often is one of the first people to like my posts even to this day because he’s a genuinely great person. In Sydney, i went out to dinner with my uber glamorous friend Cristiana and because she’s open, chatty and lovely we ended up on a communal table in a restaurant when we went out for a meal and she got involved in conversation with a noisy group of guys sat to our left.  One of them was looking at me and when I went for a ‘comfort break’ he actually approached Cris to say I was lovely and ask who I was! From Sydney I flew to the Cook Islands where I met a lovely lady (not in thet way) who invited me to go swimming with her family after the kids got back from school and who took me down the road to my hostel to collect my swimming things on her motorbike.  My first time on a motorbike and frankly a bit terrifying.  I also get ogled which hadn’t happened in let’s say about 20 years in London.  In San Francisco, a waiter who I had quizzed about local cheeses and wines slipped me his telephone number on my bill.  I didn’t find it until I sorted my receipts back in the UK and hadn’t fancied him anyway so just as well but all helps the ego doesn’t it?  Especially when you’re over 40 at the time and have resigned yourself to no one finding you attractive anymore.
Anyway so that’s my trip and there was so much more too that I don’t have time to write about. The key thing is that I came back feeling much more empowered and confident.  I had travelled the world by myself and not only that but after years feeling invisible I had finally felt attractive again.  Boosted by this, I decided to take action, try internet dating again and this time I actually met someone.  I was a bit concerned about meeting him - he was openly into kink and sexual things I wasn’t experienced in but as well as that he was warm, made me laugh and I was interested.  I wasn’t openly attracted to him when we met.  There was certainly something there - we had been very open when messaging and honest and I fancied his personality but as usual on a first internet date, the nerves kicked in and it was difficult when we first said hello to feel anything much.  I knew that would happen though so when I couldn’t think of anything to say to him and he moved in for a reassuring hug, I decided to turn it into a chemistry test and effectively snogged his face off for about 90 minutes until our table reservation was ready.  That certainly broke the ice so conversation flowed more easily afterwards and I made moves to go back with him to his place after the meal where I could test the theory further.  I was relieved and rather pleased to find that the attraction wasn’t just based on text messages and being a gentleman he also drove me home and stayed in touch afterwards.  We met up a few times and eventually decided to get together.  I would never have had the courage to do this if I hadn’t had my empowering holiday and since we’re still together despite the odds 4 years later it was definitely a good move.  
However this was all very new when I was made redundant. He assured me he wouldn’t be going anywhere but it was too soon to move in together so I moved all my 3 bedroom house’s worth of belongings back to my parents’ house in Marple and looked for a job. I emailed anyone I could think of to explain I was looking for work and found somewhere in London that seemed a great match.  It was with a Spanish importer looking to improve their cheese maturation and whose owner I had worked with before  when setting up Borough Market in London.
Unfortunately although the interview went well, the owner wanted to work with me and my references thought it was a given, I failed their HR tests and I have to be honest it knocked my confidence extremely badly. I took another job that seemed exciting and had been a second choice due only to location - north Yorkshire, a long way away from the lovely new boyfriend.
I worked with them for 3 months before again, redundancy. This time, they great ideas they had had for expansion which I was a key part of, had to be put on hold because of a disastrous Christmas in which various storms flooded large parts of the north of England and cut into their sales. By this time, I had bought a house nearby and now had to find a new job and work out what to do with a house I had hoped to make a home.
Initially I had looked to resurrect the house which had at the time all the hallmarks of having been owned by an elderly couple who loved it and had also done nothing to it since probably the 1960s in a way i would live in.  The plans changed to make it something that could be sold or rented and without wishing to be dramatic, with that a little bit of me died at losing my home.
I didn’t wallow though, there was work to be done.  The house needed substantial work including rewiring, replastering, a new kitchen and new decorating and floors throughout.  By the time it was finished it was actually rather lovely.  I felt sad that i wasn’t going to live in the results of our work and sad that I wouldn’t be living in a beautiful part of the country. Actually I felt very sad not to be living in a house whose renovations I had initially begun with a view to making it my home. But again I had been looking around for another job although with a heavier heart this time.  Being knocked back 3 times will do that to you. This time I had a message from a friend who makes cheese in Suffolk and her cheeses are extremely well regarded so helping her albeit on a basis that wouldn’t be full-time seemed like a great idea.  We tried it out and she reckoned I could work 2-3 days a week although with some big changes to the recipe as she was currently making cheese at midnight and cat napping to accomodate the make schedule.
So I moved to Bungay in Suffolk.  It was different - flat lands where I am used to seeing hills, but it had an artistic, musical community and I  started to look at property prices again wondering about living there if the job worked out.
I had been there a month when Brexit happened.
My constituency was a big Brexit voting area.  I saw people in my local co op looking afraid when their children spoke polis to them.  I began to feel much less welcome myself.  It seemed there was a big difference between the artistic fringe in the area and the locals who resented anyone who moved in whether they were Polish or just from Marple.  I stopped feeling welcome.  I actually felt observed, scrutinised and as though I didn’t belong.  iI felt like Roystn Veasey.  ‘You’re not local are you?’
The vote itself upset me more than I realised it could.  I spent months watching the 2012 Olympics ceremony which was a celebration of multicultural Britain and crying my eyes out as racist hate crimes increased across the country and in he wake of right wing extremists killing the pro-Muslim MP Jo Cox.  During the football in the Europe that preceded the vote as violance and yobbishness hit 1908s levels among chants of ‘We’re leaving the EU and we don’t care’, I could see what the results of the vote were going to be.  An MP was murdered and my worst fears were confirmed.  And yet 52% of the country still cast their votes with a racist ideology and Nigel Fargae’s openly racist campaigning.  If I had been concerned about EU corruption and taking back control, his anti muslim poster and the rise of race crime before the referendum empowering racists to openly abuse people in public in a way they had not felt able to for over 30 years would have convinced me this vote was not going the way I hoped and I would have changed my mind.  I respect anyone who did this and I can not forgive anyone who didn’t.
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ranumba · 6 years
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Walking Down The Memory Lane of 2017
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Over than 350 days passed by, and here we are at the end of the year. Where our mind can’t help but try to remember the path we’ve been through in each of the days. For me, if I have to be honest this is a year of self-acceptance. As I step into adult life as 23 years old young woman, this is the stage where mostly people said as a “quarter life crisis”. I have nothing to argue because I admit the validity on this. This is the moment where most of people on my age and I have to decide a step between choices in front of us. The dilemmatic post-graduation phase whether to decide what to do next, working in public or private company, working in high reputation company or moderate one, stick to the idealistic by working in a place that suit our background or deliberately change our direction by crossing another lane. There are more, whether to decide continue to master study or focus to find a new passion, for those who already with significant other maybe they will think about tie the knot first, or pending it, some others might still alone but eager to find one and anticipate a happy marriage as soon as possible. There are too many options to choose, and each of those is not an easy-bitsy choice as a lot of consideration followed. Your future might depend on your decision today. And the decision I’ve made for this year lead me to a lot of learning values of self-acceptance. Where the reality say differently toward my expectations and force me to accept everything with an open hand.
I imagined that by end of this year i would obtain my scholarship for my master program abroad and depart to my dream university at the first month of 2018 and experience my very first winter in my whole life, but what happened is I am here typing my year end post in my comfy bedroom inside my home sweet home and January 2018 I will still here. Dude the reality already spoke different about this expectation. I failed to get a scholarship, this wasn’t thing I imagine, this wasn’t in my plan, this will ruin my future but it won’t. Honestly it broke my heart the day I knew that I couldn’t go for my study in early 2018 as I planned. This is the biggest moment of self-acceptance and self-forgiveness. I tried to accept that it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t because I am in-capable to receive that scholarship, it because it wasn’t my time, and everything happened for a reason. If I keep point out my failure in 2017, I will stuck in one place and probably I will spoil my precious times for the rest of the months. So I decided to move on and see the Brightside. One door closed, another will always open. I keep moving on and try to attempt my luck in other scholarships, I know it requires more time and patience, but I refuse to give up.
Talking about the Brightside, I looked back to the days I spent this year. One failure cannot replace thousands of precious moment I have created with a lot of amazing people I met and I spent time with in the rest of the year. I wrote this as the way I show my gratefulness despite my disappointment to one thing. It makes me feel that I am way luckier than I thought. At the beginning of this year, I spent my one full month to join an IELTS course and long story short I managed to get a good score for IELTS and got my very first LoA from my dream university in Holland. The most important is how I met my new friends from the class with similar motivation to study abroad, they keep my boost up. i will explain the rest in points form according to timeline (LOL such a lazy writer).
·      ~  I met a new friend from Korea trough my bestie, she asked me to join her and her Korean friend sightseeing around North Bandung area, it was such a good day and always exciting to be a tour guide and make ‘em in love with my neighborhood
·       ~  I had a gathering with fellow 2016 World Congress committees, it was marking that our whole event and cooperation as team has officially finished. I was the oldest in the team I guess, but dedicate myself to the utmost for my organization is never a disappointment, I love it. The fact that it was my last contribution in IAAS, I believe my younger brothers and sisters can do better to take care our beloved IAAS Unpad
·      ~   I applied for one scholarship to Japan which held by one well-known Japanese company in Indonesia. Out of my expectation, lucky I got selected as one of 12 top applicants and had to thru psycho-test and interview in Jakarta for two days, although I didn’t make it for next stage at least I got new friends. Psst…free accommodation and extra fee for applicants. Alhamdulillah
·     ~    It was a splendid day, there was a mini-reunion with my junior high school friends and TEACHERS. I am grateful to be a part of my JHS cause the “ukhuwah” is still well maintain until today, the fact that the teachers whom you left after almost 10 years still remember you and treasure you as one of their best student is so priceless. My best teachers ever.
·       ~  My favorite person is never forget to remind me how important our family are, he always try to convince me that I should spend more time with them while I can, we will never know what future brings for us, as long as we can, we are available, do the simplest act for the sake for our family won’t hurt, in fact it is so much precious. I believe that, and I apply that as best as I could. I asked my cousins to watch a movie in cinema, i didn’t miss the family gathering especially on our big day like Eid where there I initiatively asked them to take a group picture that we missed last year, bought a bouquet of flower for my mom on mother’s day, and other simple quality time with them although it’s only for a lunch outside
·     ~    This year on May when I turned to 23 years old, there wasn’t a big celebration. My birthday is never a time I anticipate to be honest because often times it just passed like other normal day. But I am so grateful that my close friends did their best effort to made my birthday special, I always love the moment when my friends, juniors, family, send me a birthday greeting and wishes me with all the best hopes. It shows how much people care and love me very much, and I am beyond happy for that
·     ~    Another exciting moments in this year that I got to witness my friends graduation even one of my friends had to do the defend seminar while she was 8 months pregnant (what a super woman), be there and cheering them on their special moments is always give me another joy that they way to be happy is not only because of my own success, but for what people around me have achieved also. Again, I am grateful to witness their struggle to pass the tough college years because I know how hard it was when I was in their position, some of my friends still walking on their way for a graduation, they are not late once again, they walk on their timeline. Another “hikmah” that I failed my scholarship that I don’t busy with my own thing, instead I can help people around me more as best as I can to finish their research
·       ~  Chili Padi Academy will always be a memorable event for me, the 2016 experience to be one of the facilitators came again to me this year out of my expectation, in 2017 I managed to join the team again although for “together gather” event only in Malaysia. I got to meet again my fellas from Singapore and Malaysia, Weihan and Xin Run my fav SG couple and Amalina who was about to get married when I met her I August. To be surrounded by inspiring and well-motivated people is always give me a positive energy and I am thankful that the whole team trusted me to involve in the project again. And right now we are looking forward for CPA 3 in 2018
·    ~     My Taiwanese friends were coming to Bandung for a vacation, Robert contacted me few months in advance just to make sure whether I could take them for sightseeing and I said yes. It was a well-spend 3 days with them, I am happy to introduce them to a new culture, delicacy, and a splendid nature of my home town. We had a great time together, big thanks to my lovely bestie and my sister who accompany us and made the trip much more memorable. The more the merrier
·       ~  On early September I receive an honor to deliver a simple sharing and presentation to over than 100 JHS students upon an invitation from my JHS teacher on their camping night, as an alumni although I am not too confident towards my sharing material but I tried as best as I could to motivate them to do better than me in the future, and I am proud how my juniors so much more improve each year compare to my batch. There is a saying that “no matter how far we go, never forget where we came from” and my junior high school is the biggest milestone that gave me much more strength to move forward to the place where I am right now
·     ~    I completed my first level of Korean class, I didn’t really have intention to join this course at first but my bestie asked me to join this with her and it was quite worthwhile. Never stop to learn new thing, and from this experience I manage to improve my Korean language in a proper learning. Thanks to my Korean teacher Ms. Han and my other fellow classmates who made my Saturday in 2017 always meaningful + extra hangout after the class LOL
·     ~    2017 is the year where I received a lot of wedding invitations from my friends more than last year. Stepping into adulthood, wedding is one of top agenda to attend followed by a child-birth. It means a lot of extra effort to put make up and formal outfit for a wedding and quite expenditure to buy a present for my friend’s new-born baby. It is always exciting that I can be a part of their happy moment in their life, the fact that the wedding can be a mini-reunion with my JHS, high school ,or college friends . On top of that, I can learn the A to Z wedding, marriage, to parenthood preparation from friends who face this stage first, so I can be more prepare for my moments in near future hopefully :D
·      ~   Ever since I start my effort to apply for master scholarship abroad, a lot of people around me gradually notice what I’m doing start from family, friends, junior, to my lectures and teachers. I am thankful that they always support me and deliver the humble prayer for me so that my wish can come true. Because of this also, a lot of my friends or even my juniors personally contact me to share the steps to apply the scholarship, dude…I feel like an information bureau lol, but I am happy to do that because sharing is caring, seeing a lot more people around me have the same motivation give me strength that “oh yeah…we can do this together” although in fact that I’m still struggling as well
·      ~   Guys, this point will be more serious and a lil bit thrilling, believe it or not it happened to me. First thing first, be careful when you wrote a yearly resolutions. It becomes your du’a and Allah will direct you according to your hopes. So here is the reveal, I wrote several points as my 2017 resolutions and Alhamdulillah most of the points are granted and meet my expectation, but my main wish to get a scholarship was not a part of it. It turns out that I didn’t write one specific scholarship grant that I wanted to receive, I wrote more than one as options and DANG I failed one of the scholarships I wrote in the options, and it means I might get a chance in other scholarship right? And it just because the other scholarship application open by the end of 2017, doesn’t make me “fail” my wish literally in 2017 right?  When I re-read my resolutions it gave me goose-bumps, I can’t  blame Allah for not granting my wish it is because Allah has done right to lead my path according what I wish and what I wrote on resolution. I just didn’t realize that. And one more thing I skipped is that I had a resolution to do a volunteering this year, and Masha Allah if I got the scholarship this year I might too busy preparing stuff for departure and forget this chance. It means Allah doesn’t want me to miss the opportunity for doing a good deed in this volunteering. So I looked up in a volunteer platform online and I saw one volunteering chance in Bandung by Indonesia Association of Disability Women, I thought this is a brand new thing for me, I never in touch with the world outside agriculture and environment but this might be a good chance for me to involve in social activity. I plunged in and I am in love with this new world, although it is not related with my major at all but hey to do a good thing is only require a willingness and spirit I thought. I chose a role in publication as I consider this is the field I am familiar with since college, but most importantly I got to meet new friends with their different conditions, like deaf, blind, mute, or those with mental-difability.  Being around them give me a huge reflection to myself, how lucky I am blessed with this perfect physical condition and health, I have nothing to whine about, I don’t deserve to complain about my limit, my new friends give me a valuable life lesson that I never had in class. Other volunteering I did was from my favorite NGO called Indonesia Diet Plastic Bag Movement, It was a short work term as I had to survey house to house in small area in Bandung and educate every household about the impact of plastic usage and encourage them to use reusable bag on daily basis. Those experiences gave me motivation to continue my deed as long as I can, it’s never too late to start
So….that’s all pretty much wrap up my not-so-pleasant-but-meaningful 2017, this post can’t compile all the memories I made in every single day, but these are just the representative that always can remind me of so many grateful things whenever I feel down later. My concrete plan for next year I think I will still continue my work as project research assistant with my lecture, continue my volunteer work, and probably a part time in English course as a tutor (well I don’t know, I know this is random but I always want to try this), I will spend more time with my beloved people, and I will still going on with my master study scholarship, hopefully in 2018 my biggest wish to study abroad will come true. And oh…..one more thing, much more delightful love life : I hope to see you soon Bear :)
The year of 2017 as a year of self-reflection, self-acceptance, a good lesson to face adulthood to become a better human being.  This post will be closed with one reminder verse of Quran : “Are they, then, not aware that they are being tested year-in, year-out? And yet, they do not repent and nor do they learn a lesson (from it)”. - (Quran 9:126)
 Have a very joyful and wonderful year ahead people.
Tanjungsari, 31st December 2017
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In His....
In His Head
 What am I doing here?  I don’t belong here.  Why did I even get out of bed, put on this suit, and get into this car?  This is a waste of time.  She doesn’t give a good gotdamn about me, but my ass is sitting outside this church like a stooge to be a witness of something I shouldn’t be seeing.  
 She was a crush, that's all.  A life-long crush, but nothing else.  She likes to call herself a "friend," but she's nothing but an acquaintance.  She usually doesn’t give me the time of day, but I jumped at the chance to come to her wedding despite not wanting her to be happy.  Damn, that sounds contradictory.  How can she not give me the time of day and still find it within herself to invite me to her wedding?  What the hell am I doing here?
 I'm so in my head, right now.  Look at all these people.  They're smiling and happy for the couple and their forthcoming nuptials.  I'm trying not to show the pettiness I feel in my heart, thank God for sunglasses.  I know my eyes and facial expressions would be snitching on me.  
 I'm here for her and only her.  I don't know what's so special about this dude.  What does he have that I don't have?  Shit, that's a question I've asked myself my entire life.  I've always come second to my friends when it comes to women.  I've always been the other dude.  Women have always looked at my boys and been like, "What up, though!?" while looking over at me and quietly saying "Hi...." as if saying it too loud would attract a shocked reaction from the surrounding masses.  They would never say my name, either.  They probably didn't know it.   I was the nameless, faceless friend whom women tried to avoid or discretely acknowledge, like a homeless man panhandling for money.  I used to beat myself over that shit, I guess I'm still doing it.
 Alright, where am I going to sit and why don't I see anyone I know?  Is this some kind of joke? I'm always thinking someone is trying to play me. This girl always has so many people trying to be around her, you would think this place would be flooded with “her people,” but the turnout seems intimate.  There's no way she meant to invite me.  This had to be a mistake.  Everyone here looks like family or people who have grown up with him or her.  None of her partners from school are here, well, I see couple of her line sisters.  The only reason why I noticed them is from the pictures she's always posting on social media.  Her social media presence annoys the shit out of me.  She can say the most benign thing on social media and people who want her attention will "like" it just for an off chance that she engages them in a marginalized conversation.  Hell, I must not be any better than them.  I showed up at this wedding with my inner conscience believing I'm going to have a Dwayne Wayne moment.  “Please, baby! Please!”  Ha!  I'm so lame. I'm comparing my life to an early 90s sitcom.  She's no Whitley, though.  Jasmine Guy would probably say that's a good thing.  A Southern Belle she is not, but she sure does have her ego.  For all that, I'm no Dwayne.  He had a cool, nerdy, calm confidence about him.  I’m just awkward and shy, expect when it comes to video games and obscure literary and hip-hop figures.  Those are the only times I come out of my shell.  I still think Pharoahe Monch is the most underrated hip-hop artist of all-time.  He takes a little Melle Mel, a little Rakim, a little
 Grandmaster Kaz, and a lot of his own flavor to create lyrics that are existentially mind-blowing.  Dude said, “Lights flash, if I could only put the past on a flash drive...For peace of mind, install an external drive…So I’d be more driven internally to survive.”  That shit’s talking to me, right now, son.  I wish I could download my past and put it on some other shit so I can do some other shit because this shit right here is some bullshit.
 What was I thinking about, again?
 Oh, yeah, this damn girl and this inevitable wedding….
 The longest conversation we've had was right after I broke up with Jessica.  No lie, I honestly believed she only reached out to make herself feel better.  I don’t even know how she found out about the split.  I didn’t say shit to her, but she slid into my DMs asking if I was okay, if I wanted to talk, and gave me her number.  Instead of resisting, I gave in and made myself feel foolish for even thinking I was anything more than a boost to her self-confidence and self-esteem.  I was her charity case and she decided, after 20 plus years, to throw me a bone.  She texted me a few times over a couple weeks to see how I was doing, but I still looked at those messages as pity.  She would never engage when I responded.  It was like a chore to her and a fucked-up way to treat a person.
 Aside from that call, I’ve texted her to see how she’s doing, just attempting to be a decent human being while giving her a chance to save face.  The messages were typically met with deafening silence.  I had to delete her digits.  I can’t deal with flaky people.  No one deserves to be ignored.  It’s just rude.  Like, if you don’t want to talk to someone, be straight with them, and tell them!  When she did respond, she had the temerity to passive aggressively say we are only friends and only going to be friends. Don’t use a roundabout way of saying you aren’t interested!  I’ve known you weren’t interested since we met in high school!  Why the hell would things be any different, now?!  Nothing I’ve said to her showed anything aside friendship. I never said, “Hey, sweetheart! I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’m going to come scoop you so we can chill,” or asked her to send me suggestive pictures or attempted to engage in any conversation that even alluded to anything more than friendship. On top of that, you don’t respond to my fucking texts, so how can I get your ear for you to even think I want anything else?  She must think, since she’s so attractive, everyone wants her.  Yes, she’s very pretty girl, but fuck man!  A nigga is simply trying to make conversation, that’s all! All of this brings up my fear of rejection.  Going any further with her would simply do myself more harm and she invites me to this dog and pony show, but for what reason?  I don’t think she knows the meaning of friendship.  If she did, she wouldn’t use it to describe whatever this thing is we have between each other.  I hope this dude knows what he has coming.  All of this happened well before she allegedly met him.  I’m not the one to step on toes, so I always ask if the women whom appear to want to converse are talking to someone.  Maybe she took that as me seeing if the coast was clear to holla. That’s some simple Simon assumptions, shit…
 I gotta breathe, man….
 I’m running a full dialogue in my head and jump from telling a story to myself to screaming on her.  I need to calm down.  Seriously, why am I so angry?  I mean, really?  Why am I pissed?  Did she do anything to physically hurt me?  Nope.  Has my life moved on without her?  Yup. Hell, I have a lady of my own, but I’m up here thinking about his girl like she’s some goddess, like she’s Aphrodite from around the way and we’re in this holy place to praise Hymen while my mind is being controlled by Pothos and Eris.  I need to get a grip.  Plus, I know good in hell well that I would never scream on her like I do in head. It’s just so damn frustrating when you don’t understand a person’s actions.
 The ceremony is about to begin and I don't want dude to show up.  I don't even know the guy, but I don't like him.  Jealously is a helluva drug.  It makes you think irrational things like all that stuff that got me all riled up a few minutes ago.  He's probably a nice fella with a good family and whatnot, but he's going to get what I've wanted for years.  What did he do to get her?  Was it his confidence?  His job?  His personality?  Was is something shallow like his looks, the size of his Johnson, or his money?  I wouldn't put it past her.  She’s always had a type.  It was always some guy from the other side of the tracks, a "bad boy."  Those dudes were a joke.  I wonder how many of them stayed out of the system?  She was their arm candy, nothing more.  They paraded her around like a trophy and always kept her pockets padded.  She was only around them as payback to her father for being too controlling over her life.  He’s a hardworking man, and from what I’ve seen and heard, only wants the best for her and loves her, a lot.  You usually hear about these things when the father is absent, but he was always at the school functions and is still married to her mother.  It’s probably single-child syndrome, but I’m not close enough to her family to know the real story.  When you go behind the curtain, you see a lot of skeletons.  
 Man, I know way too much.  If the people in these church pews knew what I know, they would think I was stalking her, but when you want attention, people start to talk, and your business becomes everyone's business.  She was always fueled by attention while we were in school.  That's probably something that plagues the prettiest girls in all the schools across the globe who are also only-children.  It's like a superiority complex.  "I'm attractive and don’t have any siblings, so you should give me your attention when I want it."  When she's done with you or she bores of your conversation/company, she discards you like old rubbish.  You dance to her drum or you don't dance at all.  She lives in a solipsistic world and my dumb ass still wants a part of it.  Knowing me, I probably think I can fix her.
 Here she comes.  Her Pops is smiling from ear to ear and she looks breathtaking.  I need to leave.  I don’t want to watch this and I haven’t felt comfortable since I woke up.  My stomach is in knots.  You would think I’m the one jumping the broom.  I suppose this ceremony is the end of any possibilities of a future with her and she wanted me to witness the demise of something that never existed.  Damn, just damn!  I’m extra as hell.  People aren’t that conniving; at least I don’t think they’re that evil.  I can’t leave, though.  If I leave, now, people will turn and look to see who was so insolent to walk out in the middle of a wedding.  I’m a no-name, though.  People will forget I’m even here even if I stay.  I’m certain she won’t give damn.  She didn’t want me here from the start.
 I’m out….
  ​
In His Car
 I'm glad I got out there. I couldn't take seeing that shit. It was breaking my heart seeing her smile because I didn't cause it. I know that's selfish as fuck, but when you see your dream girl walking down the aisle and she isn't walking toward you, it fucks with your head. Shit, I don't think I've ever made her smile. It's whatever. I know I'm going to hear from her. I didn't do such a good job of leaving without being noticed. I know I said it wouldn't matter, but the attention shouldn't have been on me. People were whispering and everything as I got up. I hope I didn't cause some sort of scandal and ruin her day. I don't care if I ever talk to her again. She doesn't give a shit about me. I'm her charity. We did make eye contact as I was leaving, though. Fuck man! I'm all over the place with my emotions. I don't know what I want. Do I want her to care, or don't I? I should've stayed my ass at home....
 Now I'm back in my car and I need to figure out what I'm going to do now. I mean, aside from feeling like I shouldn't be at this wedding, I shouldn’t be in this area, period. I lied to my girl on the off chance something dramatic would happen and my fantasy would come true. She thinks I'm in Chicago for business. She doesn't pay too much attention to what I'm doing, though. Seriously, who drives from Philly to Chicago? I know I don't like planes and airports, but only a fool would make that drive, especially in his own car. It's sort of funny, too, that she would believe that story. She has ridiculous trust issues. That's the story of my life. I'm always falling for the girl with trust or daddy issues. It's bullshit, man! It's not my fault your father called you names and hurt your feelings when you were younger. It's not my fault he ran out on you and your mother because he didn't know how to handle his responsibilities. It's not my fault that dudes have cheated on you and put you down. Your past isn't my fault, but all those girls felt it necessary to take it out on me. I've never cheated on someone. I've come close a couple times, but my conscience is too strong and I'm too big of a believer in karma. What goes around comes around. I'm afraid I'm going to slip my dick in something and I catch something that can’t be cured, regardless of if I'm strapped up.
 I shouldn't stress about lying to her. She's been lying to me for months and I just let it go. They aren't even good lies, either. They're the type of lies to you tell when you're not even trying to lie, you just don't want to tell the truth. You know, those lies you would tell your mom when you had silverware or dishes in your room. You couldn’t give a shit, but telling the truth would take way more effort.
 Where the hell is my GPS?  Aww, damn!  This shit slipped under the passenger seat!  Argh!  That’s what I get for putting it behind the seat like a lazy ass and not disconnecting it and putting it in the glove box.  I don’t feel like getting out of car so now I need to do that uncomfortable lean and reach to grab it from under the seat cavity.  Each time I do it, I feel like my shoulder is going to pop out of the socket.  My shit is mad sore, afterwards.  I remember dropping a condom wrapper back there when I first bought the car.  My ex and I were breaking in the leather and I just threw the wrapper on the floor.  Unbeknownst to me, an air conditioner vent is under the seat.  When I turned on the air a few days later, I heard something rattling and it was the wrapper….
 I wonder how many people these long dialogues with themselves in their head.  I’m going on and on to myself, about myself.  I hope this normal.  It’s one of those things you don’t want to talk about because you don’t want other people to think you’re crazy.  It’s like asking someone about how they shower or bathe.  Once you find out someone’s technique, you won’t look at them the same.  I remember in elementary school, one of my friends said he sticks a bar of soap up his butt to kick it clean.  That sounds very questionable, right now.  Ha!
 Now what story was I telling myself before the thing got lost under the jawn?  Oh, yeah, my lying ass other half….
 She's always working, always. No matter what time of day, she's working. I'm not knocking her hustle, she should get her bread, but no one works all day and all night. She has this rule that she won't respond to my texts from 8-4. I don't want to get in the way of her work, so I respect her wishes. Here's the thing, she has two phones, a work phone and a personal. The work phone is a Blackberry. Who the hell still uses Blackberrys? What kind of cheap ass company still gives their employees obsolete technology? Her personal is an iPhone, so they have two distinct tones when texts are received. I should know because I had the same Blackberry, 3 years ago, and I currently have an iPhone. So, I took a random day off from work and she decided, unbeknownst to me, to work from home. She wanted to act surprised when I didn't leave the house. It's my house, witch! I'll do what I want! I don't need to explain why I took off from work. I'm a grown ass man who pays all the bills, even some of yours. Don't give me the side eye because I'm living my life in my own space. You could take your ass to your place, but as you say, "You have faster wifi and a more comfortable environment." Yeah, whatever. Anyway, tell me why that iPhone was going off, again and again and again!? I didn't realize which phone was going off for a few minutes, but it kept happening. I turned, looked at her, and gave her the "what the fuck" face. She just smiled at me, sheepishly. Yeah, you got caught doing dirt. That fucking phone goes off early in the morning, too. If you're in bed with me, who the hell is texting you? Don't text another dude in my bed, nigga. I need to catch her.  I had the idea of doing some Michael Weston, Burn Notice shit. I wanted to take her fingerprint off a glass with a piece of Scotch tape and then putting it over her phone when she gets up to go to the bathroom. The wild part, she takes that phone everywhere! Even in the middle of the night, she takes the phone with her. I know she's doing dirt because why would you need to your personal phone on you all the time, in the place that you call comfortable, but not your work phone? The work phone should be more important because you don’t want to miss an email or phone call.  I swear a heard the camera go off while she was in the bathroom. Light sleepers hear everything. This nigga was texting her pussy on my toilet and using my light.  I should’ve dropped her ass right then and there, but I didn’t have physical proof. I’m a paranoid type of dude.  I can’t let my paranoia win the day and unnecessarily cost me.  I guess that’s why I stay with her.  I fear myself….
 I better not sit in this car for too long. That service going to let out, soon. I don't want people coming over here and staring at me. I just don't have the energy to drive to the hotel. I don't get how this day was so draining. That’s a lie.  I do know why with my sensitive ass. I became too emotionally invested in something that was merely a pipe dream. I do that shit too much. I try to see the positive, see the possibilities, but reality gives me a knife-edged chop like Ric Flair, and then gives me a long, exaggerated, wide-eyed "Woooo!" Reality is constantly styling and
 profiling on me. I wish I could do the same thing, but my proverbial limousine is stuck in park and covered in bird shit. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I'm annoying myself with my pity party.
 I love how my thoughts get me off topic. My conscience has ADHD. Ha!  What was I thinking about? Oh, yeah, my "girlfriend."  Ha!  Even in my head I don’t say her name!  That’s how I refer to her when people ask.  I call her “the girlfriend.”  I use air quotes and everything.  That’s kind of disrespectful, but her crocodilian ass earned it.
 I should’ve left her ass when Karlos was killed in a car accident while on his way to visit me for a weekend. He was making the drive from our parents’ home and lost control of his car when he hit a patch of black ice on I-95 South, just outside of Philly. He never wore his seat belt, so he was thrown from the car, and shattered his neck and the base of his skull on impact. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. I think I cried for 2 weeks, but I was alone. She was traveling for work, but couldn't make time for me because she didn't know what to do. What kind of lame ass accuse is that? You're too busy fucking one of your co-workers, or whomever is texting you at 6am, to show any type of common human decency? Come on, now! What kind of person are you? I blocked that shit out, though. During that whole ordeal was when I came closest to cheating on her.
 At the funeral, I reconnected with Kenya, an old friend from high school. People were asking me about Keyna….
 Yeah, I said her name in my conscience, but it’s probably because after what happened, I was afraid of calling Keyna, Kenya, and ending up like John Wayne Bobbit.  Now that I think about it, Dad messed up one day and called one of Los’ girls by the wrong name.  He called Cristina, Kristin.  It would’ve been cool if Los didn’t date Kristin before Cristina came around.  On top of that, there was Crystal, Crystal, Krystal, and Christina.  Dad was always as nervous as a hooker in church when different girls would come through. He never was good with names, but luckily, she didn’t hear any of those conversations, so I didn’t have to share that I had a girlfriend.  Also, you would think your significant other would show up to the funeral of her boyfriend’s sibling, but she just a selfish person.  Shit, I should’ve dropped her ass after she said she wasn’t coming.
 It’s crazy how emotions get out of kilter when something tragic happens.  My brother just fucking died and for some reason, I needed to get my dick wet to get over it. Yeah, that's weird as hell, but men hold their emotions in certain ways. I guess I just wanted to be touched and held. I wanted someone to be there for me since my so-called girlfriend was too busy getting her hairy bush waxed by Keith or Cali or Brandon or Tim. I guess it was the moment when time, space, and opportunity met.  I’m glad that moment happened.  It was a real-life fantasy played out in front me.  I’ll never forget it.
 I shouldn’t call her an old friend.  Friend isn't the correct word to use to describe her. We weren't friends in high school. We were barely acquaintances.  Hell, when I found out who she was related to, I was surprised because I never made the connection. I was friendlier with her sister whom I didn't know was her sister. Honest to goodness, they didn't look alike, to me. One was cinnamon complexion with dark brown hair and kind of slim, while she was the color of almond milk, with freckles, body for days, and reddish-brown hair.  I also didn't remember seeing them in the same place at the same time. You would think sisters of the same age, like my brother and me, would be around each other, frequently.  Hell, the girl who I thought was her sister, same body type and same round face, was nothing but a self-created red herring.
 Years after we graduated, she asked my brother about my podcast.  She went to an after-school program with him, so they were relatively close. I never knew if he smashed.  My brother didn't talk about his women because, as he liked to say, "Niggas who talk on their dick don't let their dick talk." I guess he inherited that type of boorish conversing from our Dad.  When Dad tells stories about Mom from back in the day, he always says she was, “Built like a brick shithouse!”  After he lost his job as a chemist due to downsizing he laid this gem on me, “Fuck ’em and feed ‘em beans!”  I still don’t know what the hell that means.  My brother was a crass dude, just like Dad.  Damn, I miss you, bro. Mom and Dad are still going through it. He never could get on his feet. He jumped from job to job, but couldn't find something that held his attention. He loved to read and could go on and on about literature for hours and hours. He found zero use for his communications degree from Rutgers or his masters in communications from Villanova. He did have a serious passion for writing, though. Dude had some words, but he didn't know how to get into the industry. He has the same problem as me. He never thought he was good enough to be recognized by someone who mattered, so he kept his talent to himself. I would like to do a data transfer on his Mac and look at his collection of work, but I feel that's an invasion of privacy. He deserves to rest in peace. Plus, I don't want to find anything that would make me view him differently. Being only a year apart, so we did almost everything together, but everyone has their secrets. He deserves to keep his secrets secret.  Anyway, when he told me she asked, I was perplexed.  Why was she even thinking about me and who told her I had a podcast? It sounded like some stalker shit.
 Aww, shit! The wedding is letting out. I can't be here. I'm in my feelings, right now. I know my eyes are red, thinking about Karlos.  I’ve been on the verge of tears for I don’t know how long.  Let me peep my game in this mirror.  Yeah, I’m the vain motherfucker who moves his rearview mirror to look at himself.  I catch myself doing that on the road, sometimes. I need to cut it out before I get hurt, or worse. Yup, they're red and I haven't even been crying. Just the level of emotion I'm feeling right now has overcome me. My bro, this wedding, sneaking away from my lady.  What did Ron Burgundy say?  I’m in a glass cage of emotion!  Where are those damned sunglasses? Shit! Where the fuck did I put them?! I had them on my face when I got into the car. Where are they?! Calm down, dude, calm down. It's okay. Your heart is racing for no reason. Here they are, in the middle console. Let me jump on 95 and get to my hotel. I'm feeling like eating pancakes for some reason. Yo! I can go to Eggspectations! The one in Ellicott City isn't far at all! I'm going to tear those joints up! I glad I got my mind off the situation at hand but I know it will wander back while on the road. It always wanders back....
 I-95 is an interesting highway.  It literally hits every major city on the east coast.  Boston, New York, Philly, Baltimore, DC, and Miami. In 300 or 400 miles, you could see 3 of the 5 largest cities in the country without deviating off the beaten path.  That’s extremely cool.  Damn, I’m a nerd.  I’m up here thinking about cities on an Interstate.  Who does that?  Probably the same guy who can recite every lyric to every song ever released by Mos Def. I’m never going to call that dude Yasiin Bey.  It’s not on some disrespectful, Floyd Patterson not calling Muhammad Ali, Muhammad Ali, shit.  I just forget he changed his name.  That dude is so talented.  It’s messed up that he’s retiring, but that’s a selfish comment on my part.  Every man has the right to live his life in the way he best sees fit.  Do your thing Flacco Bey aka Pretty Dante, do your thing!  I wish he did more movies.  I use his sheepish line from Brown Sugar about champagne flutes, all the time.  That joint cracks me up!  I need to watch that movie when I get home.  Richard Lawson!  My divorce! HA!
 I think I was playing Mighty Mos on my podcast the day the girl reached out to me.  I’d forgotten she asked Los about it.  It caught me off-guard because we didn’t communicate, often. I still didn’t understand why was she thinking about me? My Facebook account was in its infancy, so I hadn't said much to anyone or had the chance to offend anyone with my sarcastic way of speaking. I'm so to myself, no one noticed me, at least that was my belief. I figured she was like those girls who acted like the wrath of God would come down on them for even looking my way. Anyway, I gave her the link to the site and eventually we started texting back and forth with a couple phone calls sprinkled in. I was the one who stopped responding. I moved away from North Jersey and left everything in my past behind. I was happy to see her familiar face that Cimmerian morning, though. For some reason, her face ingrained itself in my soul. It was like when Mike saw Alicia at Roland’s wedding in The Wood.  I was sort of struck by her, but not in the same way because we didn’t have much of a past. In the shadow of death, she provided the luciferous moment my soul needed.  She came over to me at the repass and we had a long conversation. There were tears, smiles, laughs, and moments of uncomfortable vulnerability.
 She came back to my parents’ house after the services were completed and we sat in the basement. Los and I always brought our girls to the basement, not to say Kenya was my girl or anything. When Dad was on his music kick, he soundproofed the walls so Mom couldn't hear all the noise he was making. I don't think he thought about the moans and screams from teenage and young adult girls he would be masking, too. Kenya and I sat in the basement and talked for hours, literally. I didn't sit next to her, though. I was beyond shaken by the events of the past week and I was feeling some type of way about her. I also knew my capabilities, despite having committed myself to someone. We talked about everything, our past, our outlook for the future, and, of course, Karlos. At one point, I saw tears roll down her French vanilla, freckled cheeks. I saw her cry earlier, but this was different. These tears were lonely.  They were calling me.  Her tears were the manifestation of withheld passion for the man in front of her as well as the pain of losing a friend.  She needed to be consoled, but I was afraid. I didn't know what to do. I didn't like to see her pretty face cry in such a stoic manner, one tear streaking down her cheeks while glistening in the ambient moonlight shining through the window, but hiding in the darkness.  I found myself slowly walking toward her with my right hand delicately, invitingly, and supportively reaching for her face.  I wiped her eyes with my hand and kissed on the forehead before I sat next to her. A strange feeling came over my body. I can’t quite describe it. I felt weightless, but weighed down. I felt happy, fulfilled, but empty and sad. I started to ask her questions about her body, but I couldn't believe what I was doing. It was like an out of body experience. I wanted to touch and feel her. I wanted to know how she tasted and how she smelled. I wanted her and she gave herself to me, but I stopped myself short of any intercourse. I couldn't bring myself to it. I felt guilty because I was committed to someone else. I didn't want that karma to hit me. Yes, I enjoyed seeing her extremely unique body. Her pierced D cup, tear drop breasts with freckled, pink areolas on her toasted banana cream skin made the blood rush to my organ. My tumid state clouded my judgment as I asked to see and touch her vagina. Her skin and lips were so smooth. She was wet and pulsating with excitement while her salty, sweet floral aroma lightly fragranced the room. I was in the throes of lust for a woman I had not seen in years. I wanted to be inside her. I need to release the passion and pain of the previous week....
 Hold on….
 Who is calling my phone?!
 Oh, shit....
  ​
On His Phone
 Wow!  She’s calling me?  She’s calling me, right now?  She picks today, of all days, to call me with all this stuff going through my head?!  I thought she hated my guts, but she’s hitting my phone, at this moment?!  This has been a wild day.  I’m not answering this call.  I remember when she left me hanging when I was trying to get at her when she randomly texted me a couple years after I left school.  I can’t deal with this shit, man.  I just can’t.  I’m not taking her call….
 Aye yo, why the fuck am I so frazzled!?  I’m about to eat some motherfucking delicious, buttermilk pancakes at Perkins and I’m cursing in my head like Samuel Motherfucking Jackson! That old ass nigga is crazy as shit. He’s a great actor, though.  I loved him as Jamal’s Dad in Ghostwriter, which still makes me crack up, and his role in The Long Kiss Goodnight with Geena Davis.  I wish I could meet him and ask him how he feels to cuss out a stupid ass white people who confuse him with other black actors who look nothing like him.  Those commercials he does with Spike Lee and Charles Barkley for Capital One during the NCAA Tournament are great, too.
 Sam Jackson got my thinking all sidetracked, I guess that’s a good thing.  I’ve been on a roll for the past several hours.  This phone call, though.  This phone call has me literally shaking my head.  If I was texting someone, S-M-H would be prevalent in my messages.  This girl was the first girl, well, nix that, the second girl whom I found very attractive and she could barely tolerate me. When I say tolerate, I mean it in the loosest sense of the word.  If this woman could've permanently scrubbed me from her vision and hearing, making me a silent shadow, she would've paid any amount of money to do so.  If this was the 1920s and 30s, she would’ve hired Murder Inc. to have me exterminated simply for being born.  What's worse?  I have no idea what I did to receive that reaction.  I guess my personality rubbed her the wrong way, which isn’t surprising or new.
 This is the most I’ve ever been this much into my thoughts. Usually, I don’t think, I just react, but I guess I need to wrap my brain around everything that’s going on. This isn’t too much, but a nigga is feeling a little emotional and all these random memories are being associated with current occurrences.  I wouldn’t have thought I would feel that uncomfortable at the wedding and would’ve been so into my feelings when I left the wedding or so angry when I started thinking about my sorry-ass girlfriend.  I need to calm down, but my inner self won’t shut the fuck up.  This usually only happens when my insomnia is wreaking havoc.  This shit just feels so fucking different and so odd.  I remember when things were simpler, like in college….
 I wasn’t a major player on Seton Hall's campus.  I put my headphones on, kept my head down, and went to class.  All those New York City niggas needed to be seen and show off, I wasn’t down with that shit.  There’s a part of my personality that’s no-nonsense.  Some shit just needs to get done without frills, like walking to class.  Those dudes didn’t get it, but they’re from a section of the country that couldn’t be any more different than where I grew up. Regardless, I don’t think that had anything to do with me not being a “big fish” at The Hall.
 I remember people used to call me, “Dude in the Falcons jacket” because I wore an Atlanta Falcons letterman's jacket, every winter and fall day for 4 years.  It was very distinguishable.  That shit makes me laugh.  There was a dude that we caught fucking our boy’s girl, at his apartment, on the bed he bought, that we called, “Dude in the red jacket.”  Who fucks, inside a house or apartment, and keeps his jacket on?! Did “Dude in the red jacket” think that was his sexual motif?  Did dude think he was an amateur Mr. Marcus and wearing his jacket was akin to Mr. Marcus never taking off his baseball cap and socks?  That nigga was a simp.  He also jumped out the window when he saw us.  Bitch ass couldn’t face the music when the music was at the got damn door. It took everything we had inside us not to jump his ass whenever we saw him on campus.  
 My thoughts keep getting sidetracked with randomness.  I’m starting to annoy, myself.  That’s probably why she couldn’t stand me. Shit, I don’t know, man.
 Since my class-going tableau never changed, it made sense to earn that moniker, and I hate I associate the nickname with the “Dude in the red jacket,” but that’s how my brain works.  Did just fucking use the word tableau in a sentence?  No one thinks or talks like that!  Who the fuck says tableau?  I’m seriously on my Carlton Banks, right now.  The nigga said “opt!”  OPT!  And endowment!  The only time I hear opt is when I’m declining some credit card shit and the only time I hear endowment is when I’m watching some fuck shit on PBS!  Why am I yelling in my head?!  I’m going crazy man!  These women are driving my fucking crazy.  I feel like Musiq Soulchild without the lazy eye.
 I lost my training of thought….Reflections Eternal….Mos Def & Talib Kweli….fuck, man….
 Where was I?  Oh, yeah….
 I used to walk across a parking lot next to one of the dorms, every day, while headed to class during my junior year. Later in the school year, I became friendly with a girl who saw me take that daily path. The first time I met her, which was at a mutual friend’s house party, she asked me a slightly creepy question that made me take a step back. She asked me what I was listening to on my way to class.  In my head, I was like, "Whoa! I barely know you and have never laid eyes on you until this moment. What kind of question is that? Are you stalking me?"  Yeah, I had a stalker while I was at school.  I had a couple, neither of them were cute.  One of them we called Rambo because she was always wearing camo bandanas and the other was called Snuffaluffagus because, well, she fucking looked like Snuffy from Sesame Street, but that's a story for another day. Anyway, my soon-to-be friend picked up on the immediate withdrawn look on my face and said she could see me from her room, in attempt to backtrack on the intrusive, but innocent question. I laughed it off when I noticed her need for me to accept the mea culpa. I told her I was listening to a mixed playlist of hip-hop and R&B on my Minidisc player. Our friendship blossomed after that moment while also becoming the genesis of the intimate relationship purgatory which would mold my early 20s and influence my 30s.  That’s another story, too….
 Now, that first girl who hated my guts. Dawg….
 During freshman year, I was completely lost, emotionally and mentally. I wouldn't say I was homesick. I was glad to be so far away from home. My Texas drawl became somewhat of a novelty act in North Jersey. Anyway, I spotted a tall, big chest, gorgeous woman talking to one of my boys.  Yeah, I'm the guy who takes women from his friends. Sue me. So, I see her talking to one of my boys and I say to myself, "Woo wee! She's finer than all outdoors! I would drink her bath water!" I was country as fuck, back then.  To say the woman was bad would be an understatement. As time progressed, this young lady became part of our ever-growing crew. We started as group of 5 and quickly grew to about 10, maxing out at 15 with a couple kats making cameos on a random basis. I wish some of those meddling motherfuckers never showed up. Getting back to the girl, I tried to talk to her, but at the time, I came off as extremely bougie and talked down to people. It wasn't on purpose. I was overcompensating from being a big fish in the little pond of Tyler, TX to being the type of fish you throw back because into the water because it's worthless. I was catfish in an ocean of Alaskan salmon.  Nah, let me check myself.  It was definitely on purpose.  I was a bitter, jealous, little nigga. I was trying to make my mark and failed, miserably. This girl picked up on my poor job of attempting to garner attention and put me in my place whenever she could. She would've pissed on the me if I was on fire on the side of the road, but she would have crapped on me, afterwards, to increase the embarrassment. That's how much she disliked me. After the school year, she was spent the summer riding the train with her father who was a conductor for Amtrak. I don't know why she called when they were on their way to Tyler, but she did and saw a completely side of me. Get this, she fell for me in 2 days. My demeanor was so different and so I was relaxed and cool, the kid landed the girl who was built like a brick shithouse! As in most college relationships, it didn't last. Big breasts lose their allure when the girl doesn't put out and you're tired of getting blue balls when you see her. It physically hurts to be 18 and horny.
 Getting back to the gist of the story, it was in the summer between my junior and senior year when I saw this young lady, who I think still wishes I would die a fiery death. My best friend's girlfriend was having a cookout at her mom's house in South Jersey. Straight up, my eyes popped out of my head like when Roger Rabbit saw Jessica for the first time. Ok, that was straight up hyperbole.  Truth, she was exotic to me because, and this is going to sound crazy, but it was the first time I saw freckles on a black woman of her complexion, in person.
 In Tyler, there aren't too many people who look like me and there aren't too many people who wanted to hang around an Indo-Jamaican, African American family, either. We were too different for the good folks in Tyler, plus they liked to say nigga more frequently than Michael Blackson at a Juneteenth celebration, so we kept to the small group of black folks in our neighborhood, most of whom have lived there since the Civil War.  All that being said, those freckles were sexy as hell.  On top of that, she was chesty, probably a D cup or larger.  In the years since beginning to attempt to guess breast or bra sizes, I've found I'm not as good as I once believed, which means I've always been wrong. It serves me right for sexualizing someone based off two lumps of fat they can't conceal without 10 feet of Ace bandages, a spool of duct tape, and a tutorial by Hilary Swank.
 Looking back, I know it wasn’t just the freckles that spread across her full cheeks like vanilla beans in ice cream.  It was the perfect imperfection of her big brown eyes, butter pecan skin, and chestnut brown hair that changed colors in light depending on the angle. Look at me being all poetic and shit.  Call me motherfucking Langston Hughes.  Nah, I’m more like Harper Stewart.  There I go, again….  Anyway, basically, I needed to get her attention, but was so got damn lost in the sauce, a nigga didn’t know what to say and didn’t want to rub her the wrong way. Shit, I was confident in myself and oratorical skills, but women fuck with my head without saying a word. Maybe it was all the weed I was smoking, but got damn….
 Listen to this shit, though, all the good vibes I was feeling when first saw her were dashed when she looked through me and tried to act like I wasn't present when we were introduced. I was Patrick fucking Swayze! I was a got damn ghost, dude! I’ve never felt so small.  When you run so hot and cold, as I’ve always run since I was little, that shit is so humbling.  I remember when I was 12, playing in the regional AAU championship basketball game at Carter HS in Dallas and nearly got kicked out for ripping off my jersey, throwing it to the ground, and going on an expletive-riddled tirade while stomping off the court after the ref called the third phantom foul on me in the first 5 minutes of the first half.  I was the best player on the team and that non-refereeing son-of-a bitch couldn’t get his shit straight.  My Mother had a fit and went chasing after me to cuss me out and tell me how I’m supposed to behave in high pressure situations.  I didn’t learn shit from that moment, but it’s a funny story.  
 Now, I was already behind the 8-ball and was in a silent panic because this was unfamiliar territory. The competitor in me needed to win this girl, but the shy kid in me was telling me to fall back. That was extremely confounding! In 2 minutes, I went from, "Yup, I got this!" to "Umm, hey, over here! I'm standing in front of you. Look at me!" to "Forget this girl and her bougie, pretentious way. She's not that cute, anyway!" to "But those freckles, though! Damn!" She had me twisted like a Keith Sweat song and all I could do is whine to my boys about getting played without saying a word about my intentions. It was the equivalent of getting fired on your day off.  It was a Friday, too.
 After that awkward, well awkward for me, interaction or non-interaction, the next time I saw her was at my best friend's 21st birthday party. I should’ve stopped drinking before his birthday because the elixir makes too much of myself.  Too much of myself makes me jump off the top of bunk beds, feet first, only fall halfway down and land on my face or request my boys “Call the cops, man, call the cops!” and go on and on sounding like a white boy from the valley saying, “I don’t want to die here, man!  I don’t want to die here!” and then throwing up my roommate’s bed because vodka and brown liquor don’t mix.  Anyway, I digress….
 I can’t believe I’ve been sitting in this Perkins parking lot, thinking to myself, while listening to my boy, DJ Caesar on Shade45 on SiriusXM. I remember when I tried to get at his girl while not knowing she was his girl.  He’s a good dude, though, and saw it was an honest mistake.  If I ever get married, I’m going to get him to DJ. He’s been a good friend over the past few years and I need to keep the good people around me.
 It’s funny, all my people are older than me. Our crew is at least 1 month and as many as 14 months older. I'm the baby, but I don't get treated like it. Let me take that back, I do get treated like the baby because I'm the one who gets picked on and teased ad nauseam. I'm the dude in Belly who shoots Sincere because Buns was cutting on him, in an earlier scene, expect I don't have a violent temper and the grilling and clowning never goes over the line. I guess that's a bad analogy. Let me think, if we were the cast of Saved by the Bell, I would be Screech. That's perfect!  I’m the smart nigga in the room with extreme nerd tendencies. Yeah, I’m Screech.
 I’m always trying to overcompensate for my shortcomings. My age has always been the largest amongst them. Being the youngest, I try to drink the most, smoke the most blunts, and be the most informed or smartest dude in the room. Shit, I got so high one night, I knew all the secrets of the world and I could touch the future.  That’s what I get for fucking with E Double’s gravity bong.  When you're young, you learn the hard way.
 Ok, so for my boy’s birthday party, my Dad brought me and my female, childhood friend to Newark from his apartment in Baltimore. People were so confused when I would go to Baltimore for spring break or on weekends. Trust me, I wasn't going back and forth from Tyler to Newark. I don't like to fly, I don't like taking my shoes off, and I like to travel with a bag of weed in my suitcase. The NSA would be all over my black ass for trying to pull a Nate Newton at BWI. Getting back to the story, my Dad dropped us off at our friend's house where the party would take place. As soon as I got there, I started drinking. I’m the dude who pre-games at 9am. I was feeling myself too much and was too stupid to eat anything before putting alcohol in my body. By the time the party was scheduled to start around 9pm, I was feeling good. I was waiting on the PYT with the freckles to show up but the liquor had other plans for my patience.  Why my ignorant ass didn't eat all day, I’ll never know.  When I decided it was a good idea to eat, my stomach gave me the finger. By 10pm, I was drinking Everclear straight from the bottle and smoking the worst rolled blunt in the history of blunts. There were big ass basketball players looking at me like I was crazy.
 When I get high, for some reason I think I’m a ladies man. I think I’m Leon Phelps without the afro, bellbottoms, and house boat. So, if an attractive woman enters the room, it doesn't matter if we've never met, I will try to get the digits and, hopefully, take her on trip to Space Mountain. Shout-out to the dude Ric Flair! I wish I could be a limousine riding, jet flying, kiss stealing, wheeling-dealing, son of a gun, but I don’t have that sort of charisma, which why I fail at getting my dick wet when I want to get my dick wet. I can fall into pussy, all day, every day.  When a nigga tries to get the draws, I end up masturbating in the shower while listening to Janet Jackson moan on Velvet Rope.
 Did I just shout-out Ric Flair in my head?  I’m really losing my mind, man.  Next thing you know, I’ll be at an Interstate rest stop, standing at a urinal, laughing, while my dick is in my hand.  That shit would get me arrested and I would end up at the psych ward of some hospital in rural Maryland.  I would have to sit my ass in there until they let me go on my own recognizance because I’ll be damned if I have to call someone and tell them I was arrested for laughing while holding a sexual body part in a public restroom.  I’m not going to be the black PeeWee Herman.  Fuck that.  That’s some shit a nigga does when he’s high.  I sound high, thinking to myself and jumping in and out of stories to myself, with my overthinking ass.
 Where was I?  Right….
 I didn’t think the mixture of weed and liquor would stop my pimp game, a nigga was wrong as hell!  I was talking to two women who thought I looked like Tek from The Real World, they must've been high and drunk, too, when the room started bouncing and spinning, simultaneously! I was cool until I sat down next to them.  As soon as my cheeks hit that couch, it felt like a bad acid trip, or what I would assume how a bad acid trip feels.  It's was the craziest experience, ever! Everything was moving in slow motion. I felt like Smokey from Friday after he was tricked into smoking Angel Dust. I felt stuff crawling on me and my skin was on fire. Then, my body decided it didn't like what was going on and my gag reflex kicked into full gear. In the middle of the conversation with the two women, I slid to the floor, and crawled to the bathroom. My boy was watching the entire thing and cleared a path. I was hugging the porcelain throne instead of motorboating D cups.  Did just make my second Friday reference in this thought?
 So, I missed the PYT because I had to drag my lightweight ass upstairs into the hallway to get out of the way.  I laid flat on my stomach, burping the foulest smelling shit known to man, and slipping in and out of consciousness. While I was up there, my people thought it was cute to have fun with me, so they were bringing girls upstairs to clown me and take photos. One of those girls sat her ass on me! Who does that?!  When I woke up the next morning, I wasn't allowed to drink the water because, per one of my friends, it smelled like pussy.
 I forgot about the PYT until the school year started. It’s dope how I can be out of sight, out of mind with some things, especially around Madden season.  When that game would come out, shit, you couldn’t pull me away from my PlayStation. I made so much money beating niggas by using glitches in the game.  My nerdiness came up strong in those moments.  I was also preoccupied with moving into our apartment.  
 My boys and I opted to rent an overpriced, on-campus apartment. If people knew how much that shit cost, they would’ve thought we were drug dealers. I guess that's the cost of convenience, but it was well worth it in the long run. To christen the new place, we had a small party with our closest friends. This was the night my best friend and I found out Lime Tosititos and peanut butter M&Ms were a fucking fantastic combination after smoking a bowl.
 This was also the night when the PYT first recognized my existence, granted it was because I wasn't wearing a shirt much of the time and my chicken chest was the center of all the jokes, which she instigated. Something was better than nothing, though. I was glad I was too high to retort with anything too biting. I find myself crossing the line when I can't think of anything funny on the spot and it's only cool to be mean when it's funny, which was a difficult lesson to learn. I was mean more often than funny, but on this night, the weed was telling me to calm down, be humble, and not blow the chance to see some drunken breasts in a few hours. When titties are involved, you better got damn listen to the weed!
 By the end of the night, the PYT was in my bed, but not with me. If I was telling this story aloud, this is when niggas would get hype.  They would think she smashed the homies, but nah, she was in the bed with two other girls.  All three of them were passed out, drunk, and fully clothed.  I was on the couch letting the weed and the Henny, which came after a couple unsuccessful rounds of truth, dare, or consequences, wear off. The perv in me wanted to jump in the bed with the 3 girls, butt ass naked, and start touching body parts.  I know that shit would land me in jail if they didn't consent, so I kept my shirtless, horny, slightly high, slightly drunk ass on the couch and watched reruns of the Golden Girls and Empty Nest on Lifetime.  If niggas knew I had thing for Blanche, the clowning would never end. They showed one of my favorite crossover episodes, that night.  Blanche showed up on Empty Nest and they did a sitcom version of Fatal Attraction. That was my shit!  I wonder if it’s on iTunes?
 It was a minute before I saw her, again. When I did see her, she was off limits. She didn't have a nigga or anything, but I had a lady, which was a mistake on my part. I shouldn't really diss my ex, but I’m talking to myself in my head, so it isn’t really a diss.  She was cute and had body for days, but she wasn't my type. She liked to watch HGTV, all got damn day, and I wanted to play video games and watch SportsCenter. Listen, her sheltered ass was first truly introduced to hip-hop when got to campus.  Her Pop was a doctor in Connecticut and kept his 3 sons and only daughter in the dark regarding a lot of life experiences, especially the nigga shit that everyone should know when they grow up.  I mean, she didn’t know putting a brick on the stove in the winter can heat the entire house for pennies on the dollar versus turning on the furnace.  She only knew Love & Basketball by the quarter breaks in the movie.  The nigga said she’s only watched to the 3rd quarter!  Who says that shit?  A sheltered as nigga from Bridgeport, CT, that who.  She never put water in the ketchup or soap bottles to get the last drop of your hard-earned money.  She didn’t know shit!  I grew up listening to UGK, the Geto Boys, DJ Screw, and needed to cut corners to save money at every turn. That’s not to say she’s not as black as me, that’s ignorant. She just didn’t have a wide range of experiences.  Her body made up for a lot of her shortcomings, though.  Her ass was rotund!  Plus, she let me do some weird shit I saw on TV.  HBO used to play this late-night show called “Shock Video.”  In one of episodes, two with big, floppy breasts, were seeing how many books they could under each titty!  Since the ex had perky E cups, I was curious as shit!  I didn’t have that many books, I didn’t read a damn thing back in the day, I wanted to see how many DVDs she could hold under each breast.  For the life of me, I can’t remember how many she held, but the shit was impressive.
 Moving on with the story I’m reciting to myself, that’s always going to be weird, when I saw the PYT, we were getting ready for my birthday party at my friend’s house, which meant a trip to liquor store. Being my 21st birthday, I was amped to legally buy alcohol. Since she was younger than me, I had to commit a felony and buy the liquor she wanted. Well, let me revise that comment. I wanted to buy the liquor she wanted so she would have a reason to talk to me. The shit didn't work! I bought her the fifth of Henny, which cost about $10, and was smart enough to say she needed to pay me back. I was trying to be slick because for her to pay me back meant she would have to see me again and actually speak. That shit blew up in my face! Not only did she never pay me back, she didn't even stay for the party! She was there for 5 minutes, then disappeared! She went fucking David Blaine on me! I was pissed to start the party because she bounced, which was before my girlfriend started kissing and rubbing on my boys when they started to arrive. The whole night was a disaster.
 The woman I willingly put my penis inside, with and without protection, started drunkenly molesting your closest friends at your own birthday party! I was mad, but happy at the same time. First, you just don't do that shit! You don't! I mean, flirting is one thing, and I can't be mad at that because I'm guilty of flirting with any woman who gives me the time of day, but touching and trying to kiss them on the mouth is something different. I had to pull her off a couple of my friends because she was getting too frisky. They were looking at me like a pimp who couldn't control his hoes. I was happy because she gave me an out. I could get out of the relationship with a valid reason and give the PYT 100% attention, which is what I wanted. Things became easier when the nigga fell through a closet door and pissed her pants. I left her big booty behind at my friend's house and carried myself home.
 The whole thing with breaking up with my girlfriend and hollering at the PYT played out differently than I anticipated because it sure as hell didn't work the way I wanted! I saw her outside of the student activity center, a couple weeks after the break up, and gave her my number. She never called and acted like she didn’t want the number.  She couldn’t even fake it.  Why am I laughing at myself, right now?  That shit is funny.  I was used to getting dissed or rejected, so I took it well.  Nah, nigga, you didn’t take it well.  You bitched to people about it, but made sure they didn’t have any contact with the crew because you didn’t want to be that crying, whining ass Keith Sweat-type nigga, again.  I was used to getting rejected, though.  One night, at a club in the Bronx, I was dancing with this girl.  Well, saying I was dancing with her is a stretch.  She was dancing and I was trying to catch the beat, which I failed to do.  This nigga patted me on the chest and told me she thinks I should stop and walked away! E Double was there and cracked the fuck up!  I couldn’t believe that shit!  Anyway, the PYT texted me, 2 years later, literally….
 For some reason, out the blue, she texted me and wanted to link up. I was floored because, again, I thought she wished me dead. Anyway, for the first time, she was engaging me, commenting on my posts on social media, and including me in some of her thoughts. I didn't know what the hell was happening. I didn't know if I should be happy to finally get to learn more about her or worried that I was getting played. This shit felt like a trap and I was too stupid to fall back.  Everything she was doing felt and sounded like some rebound type shit, except, I wasn’t Bill Russell, I couldn’t secure the board, and I knew it.  It didn’t take long before the engagement and
 the communication stopped.  The shit was stopped cold turkey, too.  One day, we were cool.  The next day, I couldn’t get a response.  A nigga was puzzled.  So, I did what any other guy in his mid-20s would do when a woman disses him without notice, I deleted her from Facebook.  Granted, I re-add her later, just to delete her, again, which became a cycle of mine during that age.  I thought deleting someone from social media meant deleting them from my life, but their impact resonated in my mind.  The what-ifs were too numerous and I was too immature to take rejection at face value. I took it personally when I should’ve taken it as a challenge to find the flaws within myself and make myself the type of person who can look those who don’t want me around and be unfazed by their convictions.
 I guess I didn’t learn my lesson.  That’s why I’m in the parking lot of this Perkins when I should be at a wedding reception.  Confusion and jealousy makes a man to do crazy things, so do freckles, a big chest, and cowardice.
 The real crazy part, I’ve always been more attracted to a woman’s intelligence, the way she thinks, how she interacts with others, and her grind to get what she wants.  I saw all of those things in her.  The cherry on top was outside package.  I was just too dumb not to initiate conversation about things I could gleam simply by seeing the activities she was involved.  I’m not saying I would’ve joined those groups, that’s some stalker shit. I’m saying, looking back at my early to mid-20s from my mid-30s, I could’ve used a completely different tactic like not being passive aggressive.  Nothing was stopping me from pulling her off to the side and privately introducing myself, letting know my general intentions, and trying to get to know her.  I didn’t and don’t know what was going on with her life.  I was too selfish to think about anyone else’s trials and tribulations.
 I need to call her back.  I owe her the respect of listening.  I wanted her to listen to me, but I didn’t have the balls to open my mouth. After all these years, she’s opening her mouth.  Initiating conversation with someone who is essentially a stranger is one of the toughest things to do in the world.  People will climb Mt. Everest, but won’t tell someone who means the world to them how they feel.  Emotions are a bitch, man.  I guess that’s why Nas made “Life’s A Bitch.”  Shoot your shot.
 Ok, now I’m mixing metaphors.  Let me get inside this restaurant, enjoy my pancakes, and people watch like how Pop taught me....
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