Thursday, October 30, 2008

reflection (a suicide note)

As I stand on the edge of this cliff looking out into the empty abyss
I can only ponder, “how did I get here?”
Through a series of unfortunate events
I’ve lost almost all that is near & dear
& yet, I have no one to blame but myself
Although my choices may very well have revolved around others
My choices, no matter how bad, were my OWN
I CHOSE THIS PATH that I now walk alone

& as I stand here now on the edge of this cliff,
Staring into the empty abyss, I pause & ask myself, “who did this?”
Only I know the answer to that question
The truth is, my downfall is my own doing
From all the priceless & prized possessions I’ve lost
To all the useless things & vices I’ve gained
To say my life is in shambles would be an understatement...
Shambles can be stabilized
My life is in RUINS

& now as I stand on the edge of this very cliff,
Gazing out into the empty abyss
My thoughts resonate loudly, “now is the end, let me go in peace.”
As I think about all the opportunities passed,
& the life I could now be living
The lies told to those close to me
The lies I never asked for, but received
The lack of job stability, verge of bankruptcy
The abundance of corruption from the one I gave it all to
The loss of livelihood, dignity, sanity, & all logical thought process
My heart, my mind, & spirit all broken to pieces
I want to cry, scream, & shout for all to hear
But it would only be in vain
No captain can save me now...
So as I dive from the edge of this cliff
Plummeting down into the empty abyss
I will feel no pain...because now, I am free



- Q. Deon

I wrote this note 1 year ago this month & looking back, things really weren't that bad: Immediately following the reconciliation of me & my ex, I hit rock bottom. Now I have NEVER contemplated suicide...I don't think I would ever have the balls to intentionally end my OWN life. But for a moment, I did wonder if death would bring relief from the pain; the pain of betrayal; the pain of heartbreak; the pain of living. & in a sense, I did die...well, a part of me anyway. & for a while, I never looked back. But now the worst of my past seems to be the best of my future. October 2007, I was down so bad I didn't think I could go anywhere but up...PSYCH-adilly! It was only the prequel.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

damn...

Since I made the move to Texas, almost two years ago, I've had my share of the different types of men Dallas had to offer. Very few remain constant in my life...very few remain. But there has been ONE in particular who stood out from the pack. You may remember mention of his name from this post. But let me just start from the beginning...


I had been working at that call center for only a short while but I was LOVIN IT! Having left the minimum wage of north Louisiana ($5.80/hour) the previous year, to now actually be able to pay all my own bills without help from my grandma & still without having a degree? Honey I was good...but I still felt empty. The apartment was fully furnished. I wasn't in any debt (besides student loans). "I could go where I wanted, do what I wanna do[1]." & I was surrounded by good friends. BUT me being human, I still wasn't satisfied. I laid alone every night & had began to long for a companion. Though I still had ties with my ex (we were still fucking), I wanted something more; something new.

It began as a typical Thursday & I was headed to work. Now the floor I worked on had been buzzin because of a new training class that week but I ain't friendly, so I had no intention of meeting or greeting with anybody...& then I saw him: 5'10, about 185 lbs, low-cut, toffee brown, & VERY well dressed...o yea, I had to get him. & after one long look into his eyes, I knew enough to know but, there was something off about him...

We continued our friendly glances over the course of a couple weeks & even the occasional head nods & "what's up man." He served on the daily for work, butch queen DOWN: blazers, jeans tucked inside of timbs laced all the way up, earrings with stone sets to match the fit, even drove a cunt car. I wanted him...but something was preventing me from approaching. It was weird, I ALWAYS approach when I see something I like but something just wasn't sitting well with me about him & I just couldn't put my finger on it.

One afternoon, as I'm headed to work again, I pass him outside on his phone readin somebody for FILTH about his car. He had made me nervous so I just kept walking looking straight ahead because I didn't need her poppin fly with me for being all up in her mug. At that point I decided that for whatever reason my gut was telling me not to pursue her, for the first time I was gonna listen. It was time for me to forget about miss cunt butch.

My 15 minute break finally came & I was hungry DOWN. I headed to the breakroom to raid the vending machine & as I sat down to tear into my kettle-cooked jalapeno potato chips, a body walked up from behind & sat right across the table from me...it was him staring dead up in my muthafuckin face...all I could do was smile. He returned it, beautiful teeth. "What's yo name?" he asked, still staring me dead in my eye. "Q," I smiled, "what's yours?" He didn't even blink, still gazing at me & then finally responded, "Bruce." We chatted for a few minutes & then he said, "gimme ya number;" not asking, but telling me to. I paused & thought "this is not right...I thought I wasn't gon go after him...& I should be the one asking him for his number..." He never did break his stare into my face & hell, even though I did say I wasn't gonna pursue him, it was him pursuing me...I gave him my number before returning to my desk to finish my shift.

He actually called the next day, surprisingly. We talked...and talked...and talked for what seemed like hours. He was from dallas, just moved outta his mama house, & a HEAVY weed smoker (a pot head.) But the most surprising detail was his age...19. I swear this dude looked every bit of 25, & spoke & acted it too. If I had that much sense at 19 maybe I woulda turned out to be "somebody." But honey anything that glitters, might just turn out to be aluminum foil. & I had 3 more years of wisdom on him so I had to hit him with that question, the one that had gotten me good so many times before: "You don't have a boyfriend?" I asked, intrigued that a kid this fly could ACTUALLY be single. He hesitantly answered, "uhhhh, ye-a." Mmmph. But truthfully, it was not a gut-punch. He didn't lie about the fact that they lived together; the fact that they were "in love in this sumbitch[2];" or the fact that he was having second thoughts about them sharing an apartment. But like most, he was not just gonna come out & tell me first & risk missing out; I would either have to just find out bout the shit or simply ASK. & honey doing what I do for this long, I interrogate like Law & Order.

So ya'll already know...I went over to they townhouse when he invited me (shit, ya'll know me; i'm trying to "see how the booty work...[3]"). & he looked really different in just a wife beater & basketball shorts. Not UNattractive, just a little, less (he used to be big but lost a lot of weight & now has no definition in his upper body) but I wasn't trippin. As we sat on the couch he began to roll a blunt (he smokes at least 2 before work each day) & wasted no time going IN about his lover & how sick he was of the living situation. THE RUNDOWN: He loved him, he just hated living with him. I comforted him. He kissed me & despite the weed smoke...he tasted sweet. I wrapped my arms around his waist. He wrapped HIS arms around MY waist. We continued kissing for about 5 minutes straight, slobbin DOWN but, he had yet to reach for my penis... & then BAM! that shit hit me like a nigga's daddy: What was off about him; what hadn't been sitting well with me but I couldn't put my finger on...until right then. I snatched away from him, looked him dead in the eye & asked, "are you a TOP?" He looked confused, then responded, "uhhhh, ye-a. What are you?" I just looked at him, disappointingly; nuff said. I knew my gut was telling me to leave this muthafucka alone for a reason. I was TOO through.

We both sat back on the couch, silent. He finally spoke, "I'm finsta start gettin ready for work." I thought to myself, "shi-it, you ain gotta tell me but once." I grabbed my keys & he stopped me, "no, don't leave yet," he smiled, leaned in & kissed me. I just looked like, nigga what? But I didn't argue, I just sat back down. It didn't take him long to throw on his clothes & jewelry. He looked so damn sexy when he re-emerged downstairs, I swear. He pulled me up off the couch, wrapping both arms around my waist. As he gazed into my eyes I could only think to myself, "what the fuck is this? Is dis nigga serious? I hope he don't think he gon sweet talk me into givin up the pussy? Shi-it, that ship sailed YEARS ago..." He kissed me, so gently but I swear I felt HEAT. This lil' 19 year old nigga had more game than the 30 & 40 year olds I be fuckin wit. He gon be somethin SERIOUS by the time he old enough to drink. He smiled & whispered, "let's go."

We walked to the parking lot, & before he hopped into his car to head to work, he leaned over & kissed me one more time. I'm standing there shocked & amazed, asking, "your neighbors ain't messy? They not gon say nothin to your boyfriend?" He smiled, climbed inside his car & replied "I don't care." As he crunk up, backed out, & drove off I could only think to myself, "damn..."

REFERENCES
1. "Should I Go?" (Brandy) - Afrodisiac; 2004
2. Martin Lawrence - You So Crazy; 1994
3. Lucky (Tupac Shakur) - Poetic Justice; 1993

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

you know what? i'm tired of this

Ok this is the LAST straw, that broke the camel's back against the wind, & honey, enough is ENOUGH! So let me take you back to that night...

Now me and "Oscar" had been playing email tag on A4A for a while but the night we were SUPPOSED to hook up I ended up...a little bit tied up (I'ma tell ya'll about that another day). So, we rescheduled for the following night & I'm GEEKED UP because his body pics are 1-2-3 so you already know. We've established that he's 40 years old, works nights like me & single. But nervous about meeting me, as well as being allergic to cats, but it's no tea because I have no problem kicking Avery out of my room when I have a gentleman caller. So that night, I picked up a bottle of wine (2 bottles actually), straightened up my place a bit, & took a shower. As I rubbed on my body lotion & cologne I pondered:
"Will Oscar be the one?"
"Maybe he can be my regular?"
"Gosh, I'm so tired of hoein & jippin."
"I hope he likes me."
"I been doing these damn Kegals like A.B. Irby said to, I hope they work."
"I hope this cologne ain't too strong."

I poured me another glass of red wine to calm my damn nerves. I always get real anxious the first time I hook up with someone new. I lit me a square & stretched out butt naked across my sofa.

"He's late," I think to myself at 11:53pm. By 12:05 I decide to call. "You lost?" I asked. "Naw man, I'm pullin into the apartments right now," he answered. It then takes him another 10 minutes just to find my damn door (i swear, no one can ever find my apartment). I leave the door unlocked for him. He walks thru & I check him out from head to toe...I'm...pleased, I guess.
I mean, Oscar definitely LOOKS his age but he's a pretty color: "you know I gotta soft spot for chocolate[1]." & he has a decent mug so, I'm NOT disappointed. But he seemed real paranoid like, irritatingly:
"turn on some of these lights."
"no, you walk into the room first."
"you ready huh?" as he pointed to my fishbowl full of assorted condoms & lubes
"I know somebody musta told you about me, that's how you knew I was allergic to animals."

I swear, I almost told him to get the fuck outta my house. But hell, I'd waited this long for him to come over so, I decided to try and help him relax.

I sat him on the bed, between my thighs & began to rub his neck & shoulders. He smiled, & even allowed himself to enjoy it. I began to lift his shirt up, he stopped me before I could get it over his head & whispered, "no, no, no." I swear, I was about to put this nigga the fuck outta my house. He stood up, then pulled me up with him. He turned his back to me while pulling me to his ass. "About damn time," I thought to myself. "You cum quick?" he asked. "Depend on how good it is," I answered as I pulled down his shorts & oooh, no draws on? YES! He was ready (or so I thought). I grabbed a rubber & a lube packet outta my bowl & begin to roll the rubber down my shaft with one hand, while lubing him up with the other (ya boy can multi-task). He jumped as I put the head in, so I eased the shaft in. He could take it standing up, my second favorite position to being rode, so he was earning back some of the points he lost with his paranoia. He whispered, "jack my dick baby, so this ass can open up." I happily obeyed hey, it's all about teamwork. After a while, he spit me out (of his ass) & got on all fours on the bed, face down ass up. "I need somebody to fuck this ass on the regular man," he said. "We'll see," I replied. O yea, this shit was bout to be all mines. I started wearin that ass OUT! He was beggin for more lube, so I passed him the big tube off the nightstand while he turned onto his back. & as I went back into that sloppy, wet, warm ass that's when it hit me...that oh so familiar stench. I was OVER it.

Thank God he came right after that because my dick was about to go limp. I could not believe it. I didn't even WANT to cum. I immediately pulled out to head for the bathroom & when I flipped on the light to glance down at my dick, that ultra-thin fuschia condom was covered in mud. WTF? I have not been painted in FOREVER. I didn't even know the girls still painted. Was he serious? Did he even wash his ass? Why would you even CALL ME, asking for the dick if you wasn't prepared for the dick? He don't love his self. Maybe if this was a little boy, but this was a grown ass, middle-aged man. Me personally, I been doing this shit for YEARS. So I can always handle a light airbrushing, I mean hell, I am diggin up inside a man's rectum (it kinda comes with the territory). But for a full coat of paint to be on me, & trust it WAS on me, my pubic hair & my damn stomach. I was disgusted. I was speechless. HE HAD TO LEAVE!

When I made it out of the bathroom Oscar was dressed & standing at the door. "Alright man," he said. "Yea," I responded, dryly. I locked both locks, & went to change my damn sheets before I took a second shower & I swear, that hot water never felt so good. But to all you "bottoms," get ya swagger up baby. It's 2008, going on 2009. No more excuses, no more tears, no more drama, no more shit: dookie crumbs in my sheets, dookie crumbs on my dick... "dookie crumbs in the hall, dookie crumbs on the wall; it was enough shit in that house to make a DOOKIE POT-PIE[2]!" & I swear, the next one of you muthafuckas shit on me, I'm goin in yo muthafuckin mouth...believe dat.

REFERENCES
1. Adina (Paula Jai Parker) - Sprung; 1997
2. Cedrick (Brian Hooks) - Q: The Movie; 1998

Saturday, October 4, 2008

the truth about the electoral college

This Monday, October 6th, is a deadline for voter registration in many cities across the nation & I feel like now is my last chance to impart some knowledge to those still ignorant. I honestly was not voting this election, & not just because my girl Hill didn't get the nomination. But more specifically, after Al Gore lost in 2000, not because of the people's votes but because of the electoral college's votes, I had decided that democracy was in fact not, "for the people," nor was it "of the people" & honey I didn't want anything else to do with politics PERIOD. I was ignorant to the facts, & to the policies & procedures governing this nation. This article, by Dr. William Jelani Cobb is the best breakdown I've ran across of the election system. Whether you vote or not is on you. It's your right, & no one can tell you what to do with it (though many will try). But if you're not voting because you're like I once was, simply ignorant to the facts, allow Dr. Cobb to enlighten you:

The Breakdown:
The Electoral College, that confounding instrument of our democracy, finally explained
Monday, February 04, 2008

By: William Jelani Cobb

In an election year in which almost nothing could be predicted from one moment to the next there is one absolute truth: at some point you will enter a barbershop, barbeque joint or church basement and hear the following statement: "I don't vote because we don't even ELECT the President, the electoral college does" -- which leads to the inevitable declaration that we should abolish the electoral college and general head-nodding all around. But the truth is you really don't want to do that -- and here is why.

The Electoral College is basically the system through which "raw" popular votes are filtered to produce the final results in Presidential elections. When you pull the lever (or, more accurately poke the screen) for your candidate in November you are actually voting for a slate of "electors" who have been chosen by officials in the candidate's state parties. Those electors have been picked, usually after years of service to the party, and are motivated to see the candidate who emerges from their convention win the presidency. Given the fact that it is possible, as Al Gore did in 2000, to win the popular vote and lose in the electoral college, the system has always had the look of a conspiratorial hustle designed to prevent the people from having true political power. But the weird truth is that the electoral college makes American politics more democratic, not less.

Every 7th grader learns that the Constitution has a series of checks and balances designed to prevent too much power from accumulating in the hands of any one set of individuals. But we pay less attention to the fact that it is also designed to filter the power of the masses (or as we like to call them "The People") as well. And that is a good thing. We tend to associate tyranny with an individual, but -- as an Iraqi Kurd or a Roma in Eastern Europe or a brother from Alabama could tell you -- majority rule is not the same thing as democracy.

The Electoral College reflects that tension. It is basically a compromise between those drafters of the Constitution who supported direct election of presidents and those who wanted Congress to choose the president. Under the Electoral College the popular vote is rerouted through a proportional system in which each state gets a number of "electoral voters" that is equal to their total number of Senators and Representatives in the House. Their skepticism about "majority rule" was a product of their political failures and the social upheaval that marked their first years as a "democratic" country.

Having already seen the tyranny that resulted from having too much power concentrated in the hands of one individual, King George III, the Founders moved in the opposite direction and created the Articles of Confederation. The weakness of the central government under the Articles reflected the Jeffersonian belief that "the people" were inherently more fair and just than any set of rulers would be. When Thomas Paine wrote that "Government at its best is but a necessary evil," he reflected the early American skepticism about human nature and the corrupting influence of power.

But by the time the Constitution was drafted a decade later, mob riots and uprisings had made it clear that all the flowery prose and romantic imagery of "The People" was only half the picture. The population at-large was often violently excitable, unruly, prone to act upon their passions and not necessarily all that democratic themselves.

The Electoral College is just one of the "filters" built into the Constitution; Senators, for instance were elected by state legislators, not the voters in the individual states themselves until the 17th Amendment was passed in 1913 allowing for direct elections. But a democratic side-effect of the College was that it made individual votes worth more, not less. In most states the electoral college operates as a winner-take-all system, meaning that if candidate A wins 100,000 votes and candidate B receives 100,001 votes, candidate B gets all the electoral votes in the state. That means that the individual casting that deciding vote is extremely important. Under a popular system candidate A really doesn't lose anything. That one deciding vote doesn't mean much because no matter what candidate A walks away with only .01% less than candidate B. Now, elections are generally not going to be decided by a single vote, but under a winner-take-all system the worth of every individual vote is still magnified.

Aside from that the college basically forces candidates to take a broad array of concerns onto their platform. Under a popular vote system a candidate could win in seven or eight of the most populous states, lose in the 40 or so others and still become president. Under the Electoral College the margins are much more narrow. Anyone who remembers the imfamous blue-state-red-state maps of the 2000 elections knows that Republicans tend to win in lots of states and Democrats in the states with the largest populations. If we were operating on a popular vote system you would probably see Democrats and Republicans fighting it out in those states that have the largest population and ignoring the rest of the country.

If no candidate receives the clear majority of electoral votes -- like the elections of 1800, 1824 and 1876 -- the House of Representatives chooses the president in an arrangement where each state electoral group gets one group vote. And then there is the scenario favored by conspiracy theorists nationwide where a cabal of electors decide to ignore the popular vote altogether and pick their Skull-and-Bones frat brother as President. While the Constitution says nothing about who the electors have to vote for, most states have penalties ranging from heavy fines to incarceration for electors who vote against the candidate who wins the majority in their state.

The reality is that there are more than enough reasons -- felon disfranchisement, voter purges, questionable electronic voting machines -- to be skeptical about the political system. And a degree of skepticism is probably in the best interests of any citizen. But abolishing the electoral college won't get us any closer to fixing American democracy and would almost certainly leave us worse off.



William Jelani Cobb, Ph.D. is an associate professor of history at Spelman College. His third book, now available from NYU Press: To The Break of Dawn: A Freestyle on the Hip Hop Aesthetic


Wednesday, October 1, 2008

about that online revolution...i ain miss SHIT

Where do I begin? It's complicated (like pretty much everything involving Q) so this time I'm gonna go slow. When we last left, Cori had given me his phone #, which was the exact opposite of what I expected him to do:

Was I in love? HELL no.
Did I wanna pursue something? Maybe.
Should I have just erased his number & forgotten I'd ever met him? Hmmm.
Should I just fasten my seatbelt & brace myself for the ride? DING DING DING!
I waited until late that night to text him. 20 minutes later, no response. I thought, "oh duh, he's probably like me & only gives out the house phone #." I decided to call but what greets me? A hip-hop ringtone...followed by a voice mail. Hmmm, sounded like a cellular. But hey, it is after midnight & he does work "normal" hours so he's probably asleep, duh! "I am like SO inconsiderate," I thought. AH WELL, might as well see what else is poppin tonight. & as I log in to BGC & click on my friends & my favorites but who do I see? Cori. But I mean just because he's "online" doesn't mean he's online, so what do I do? "I'ma go over there & say hey[1]!" I sent him a message, "was that a house phone # you gave me?" Me still trying to cut a brother some slack for straight up IGNORING me & his rather hasty response was, "o naw it's a cell. sorry i missed u earlier..." All I could think was sorry huh? "Yea you sorry. Ya sorry muthafucka[2]!" But me being the "G" that I am I simply replied, "cool beans man, jus holla @ me later."

That should have been the end. Any logical man with common sense would not have subjected himself to further humiliation. But not my black ass, I live for the chase. I thrive on resistance, & a man playing hard to get only fuels my fire baby...I wanted more. 3 days passed & I noticed he was never logged in anymore. I went to his page to see the last time he was online:
"This account: Milleniumodel has been placed on hold by the owner;
Message from Milleniumodel: I am trying something new
."
'Something New,' huh Sanaa? I waited about 3 more days before I threw myself at his feet via text message: "U said u were 'comin back...'" My desperation is really disgusting. He replied rather promptly, again (he never answers phone calls but always responds to text message? maybe he's a I-M: a text girl), "I did say that but someone that I have had my eye on has come through. We have been chilling..." 5 minutes later, he followed up with, "Ur cool and I would like to continue to communicate and hang if ur ok with that." Those words were the gut-punch & I had been hit HARD. How do I even respond to that? He had a choice, as we all do in life & he made a decision. He made the decision that he thought was best for him. I can't even say I'm angry with him, I mean I probably woulda passed me up too (I'm having a moment here). Days turned into weeks & he would send me a text message here & there, just to say "hey." He even made the effort to have small talk. He was still the same guy that laid across my futon mattress that night...he had just found a better bed to sleep in; he had found a Sealy Posturepedic.

FAST FORWARD:
That weekend could not come quick enough. I needed to see my hairdresser "Eddie," STAT! Not just because I had new growth, but because Eddie was like a therapist to me. He listened intently & hung on to my every word. He would give me his opinion & even offer tidbits of advice. He was a friend, loosely. Not to mention he was easy on the eyes & not half bad in bed either, but we ended up having way more chemistry outside the bedroom than we did in. I was late for my appointment as usual, & he was evil about it. He even threatened to stop doing my hair! But I wasn't having that, he's the only person in Dallas that can do my hair. I would have fallen to the floor & kissed his ashy feet to stay in his good graces.

As I lay back for the shampoo I didn't have much to say. I felt many emotions but I was tired of hearing about them & to my surprise, Eddie picked up the slack. He began to talk about himself & this "guy." This "guy" as he called him, whom he had just recently started seeing was nice, younger (29, but Eddie is over 40), educated, from east Texas, & FINE as he described him to me. Eddie's only problem with him (& u know the girls ALWAYS find a problem with him)? He was femme. Eddie hates femme. Not a homicidal hatred, just not to date. & you know I had to stick up for the softer men, as I call them. & not just because I date them just the same as I date masculines but because I know what it's like, to feel like your own kind have turned against you; you will do some STRANGE things:
The general consensus of "guys attracted to guys" (gag bitch, since all these girlz feel offended by being called gay now...fuckin fags) despise anything even remotely femme. This leaves those men that are naturally womanly feeling like misfits...outcast (sound familiar?). & what's a girl to do when shunned by the men he should be connecting with? Hell, almost ANYTHING. He'll damn near sell his soul to feel included & welcome...to feel wanted. This is the formula for femmes who put on a masculine front just to get a man. & as an old boyfriend of mine once put it, "everybody wants trade, but nobody wants to be trade." I guess what Eddie's "guy" failed to realize is that whatever you do to get that man, you'll have to
continue doing to keep that man.
The more Eddie talked & the more I listened, this new "guy" seemed eerily familiar. From his age & location, to his looks & femme persona I felt like I knew this guy. Eddie was not about to slip & say his name so, I had to get gutter & fish for tea, honey. Eddie began to talk about how nice of a car the guy drove. I jumped on my opportunity, "for real? what he got a Lexus?" I had to sound innocent in questioning yet simply interested in the conversation. He answered, hesitantly, "nah he drive a [sports car], it's a newer one. Real cute too..." gut-punch! I swear these dudes be "hittin harder than a nigga's daddy." I was too through. This "guy" he was going out with was Cori. Cori, whom he found too femme to continue seeing or pursue anything serious with. The same Cori, who decided we should just be friends so that he could be with Eddie. Eddie, whom I met online & fucked 2 years ago. The same Eddie who has now evolved into not only my hairdresser but my friend. There was only one thing left for me to do.

I know ya'll don't think I spilled tea? Bitch please! I will sit on tea for YEARS & might take some to the grave. & they might call me secretive, might even call me a ho but one thing they won't call me is messy. To tell Eddie the truth about my knowing Cori would only cause more friction & Cori was already on thin ice with him. Q was NOT gonna be the reason. So honey I sat there & got my hair done as I continued to listen to Eddie talk. But his voice was eventually drowned out by my own worries as I thought, "how does this shit get so complicated?"

REFERENCES

1. Shante Smith (Vivica Fox) - Two Can Play That Game; 2002
2. Jenny (Natalie Deselle) - How to Be a Player; 1998