I say its genetic, she called it a lifestyle.
Chasing the fame, “squeezing the lime for the light.
Living outside the fantasy, knocking on the door hoping to get a glimpse
If I do this enough times and to enough people, it’ll increase the odds.
Someone might recognize me.. enough to put me in a video or take me on the road.
Anything’s better than home.

But she was the reflection she ran from. Her shadow always beat her to the destination. She was higher on the Totem Pole than an average fan, more passionate than the typical stan.

Still, she had no goals, no ambition.

She just wants to be Famous.

so im having issues w. my database.

As you can see, no images are showing up. I had to reboot WP and luckily I was able to get my posts back.

To be continued…

Where do I start? When I was younger I was a very angry kid; real cynical, sinister & manipulative. A bully. I believe that was because I was unhappy and that was my way of relieving the frustrations of my life. I fought boys on a daily- I liked it. I had to prove to them that I was strong. Somewhere down the line I changed because instead of wanting to fight them, I wanted to love them.

My first relationship introduced me to how fucked up boys can be. He was older, a short dude, smooth talker, cute- popular. The perfect recipe for disater. He molded me. I was a ‘ride or die.’ A fool. Though he taught me dedication and I was proving my loyalty to the unloyal. He scarred me and I vowed to never let it happen again. To be so deep into any guy that I lose myself. And in the relationships that followed I got deep enough to get my feet wet, in some instances knee-high. I wouldn’t be submerged.

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I called Time Out, but was I sure?

I hadn’t seen him. I was drowning in work. Day and night, no time for anything other than the money that was fueling me. But it had been awhile since I’d went out for leisure. So I went out with my girl in tow.

It was a dry night but one of  The Bay’s best DJ’s was spinning so it was worth it. And for the first time in a  long time we made it to the venue EARLY. Unbelieveable. I guess in my absence of clubbing chicks decided to stepped their clothing game up- I wasn’t impressed. Lol. There was a nice mix of ages and ethnicities, surprisingly. My girl and I stopped at the bar, another over look of the crowd and I knew I would be needing a drink or 2 … or 3.  Amaretto!, Amaretto! And before I knew it I was there. My drinking isnt what it use to be, shout out to the light-weights. Lol.

The club is filling and the jams are playing, I look over and unexpectedly see Him. We embraced it was strong but not lust driven like they use to be. And of course he was with a slew of people, many who I knew. We all hugged and chatted for a bit before we dispersed. My girl & I stood on a small platform and looked over the crowd. Though a plethora of room, chicks always want to cuddle up on any box. Not a good look. Dirty looks exchanged we bounced to VIP, as does most of the club.

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Jestering; Part:3

Still caught up in the emotions of the incident she declared to everyone that it was the end, she was filing ”papers.”  She created a plan to spring the news- make him think everything would be okay and on his birthday serve him a blow thats she hoped would hurt more than anytime she fought him.  Close friends and family all knew of the plan and encouraged it, except a few who wanted to move past all the waiting and the bullshit like the goddess of Victory and just do it.

It would be almost a months wait for this day. In between time she took steps to secretly “mend” the relationship, but his new found freedom was too much. He publicly treated her like he did his babies mother’s. She’d become closely acquainted with the tears that streamed down her cheeks, so much that she could not hide it from those around her.

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The Reflection; Part:2

The altercation turned into a medical cast, and the cast transformed into surgery. The price she had to pay for loving a man who possibly loved her more than she did him, but who couldn’t give up his premarital ways.

She looked at her second finger where her ring rested.  It would never be the same. Her mind fell back to the time of engagement, when she proudly flaunted the VVS. A time when she a vehemently claimed the child as her husband. That was over now.

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I’d be a liar if I said I was too busy

I’d be  a liar if I said I didn’t have time

I’d be a liar if I said I was working on other projects

I’d be a liar if I said I remembered I had a blog.

… “Most Of Em Fake”

- Flyyy.

[audio:http://stylistiic.com/blackbook/audio/Flyyy - Most Of Em Fake.mp3]

Most Of Em Fake – Flyyy

Gloom’s Day; Part:1

It had made the papers. But they were a few days late, it was over. Though the case was just beginning.

What had transpired sounded like something you only heard on the Maury Povich Show. But this was real life, she had the broken fingers to prove it.

She grew up with no biological mother. No, her mother wasn’t a dead beat; but she was in fact dead- domestic violence. Her mother was no punk, not one to be disrespected or ran over, and that’s how her mother died. Grandmother was now Mom and raised her with old fashion morals.  Life was filled with its ups and downs from that point on. She had a good job with good money, many talents and goals.

She married someone she knew since 13.  On June 24th, 2006 they became one. None of it was perfect but those lessons her grandmother taught about marriage and family remained. Nevertheless she was still her Mother’s daughter, so they fought physically and fussed. But they stuck it out, like Grandmother taught her.

Then morning came and after counseling and multiple prayer, they decided to make a change…

The sun had just gave birth to light and what was revealed was blood.  Deceit had a restless and uncomfortable sleep, which woke the neighborhood up. As 6:30am would have it there she saw a women in his back seat, sleeping. And at the exact moment the winds of a hurricane began to churn inside of her. Pieces of her mother and father swirled inside until they were fully combined. She ripped through and rained on the girl who was now wide awake and fighting back, barely. Her cries for help went unanswered because the wrath was too loud, and well deserved. And as the knots emerged and the DNA splattered on the cars and clothes, the waters began to cool and the storm was over.

The man she married looked on, as I’m sure his brain raced. The poor girl’s cries went unanswered, it was every man for thyself. As he tried to hold the crumbling pieces of marriage together, they sifted through his fingers like sand. The girl battered, bruised, & bleeding still found energy to talk shit through a swollen mouth. That rawkus  brought the flashing lights, that  drained the streets.

It was at the moment she realized she went crazy… the right side of crazy.