Lost Found Love

I decided today that I am going to become a full-time, get fucked up at 9:00 in the morning, true- blue alcoholic. I have too many problems to deal with and its breaking me. The main problem seems to be one so deeprooted its even in my astro-chart: I never have the resources I need.

I hate the shit around me. I hate where I live. I hate being poor and at people’s/the govts/poverty’s mercy. I hate that I am trying to do all of this Law of Attraction shit and it just is not working for the REAL problems in my life. I hate that this is my kids father and I feel like a single mother, I have no support with my kids and all this mthrfuckr does is make my life smaller. He makes everything worse. I hate that he’s my kids father and if I want something better than this, I have to deal with another man. I wanted all my kids to have the same father.

I fell head over heels in love right out the gate with a total stranger and the circumstances are just causing me to question myself. Hard. The one thing I got from him that I won’t forget it to cut out the negative self-talk. I will.

I wish so bad that he could have been my kids father, that I had turned a different corner.  But who knows maybe now he’d be the one hating my guts and I’d be chatting online with Zero, falling head over asshole. Straight up asshole.

Kevin Trudeau said you’re not supposed to worry about the “how”, to let the Universe take care of  that. But, maybe because of my Moon in Aries, I feel like  I am going to explode from the frustration. I hate always having to settle for CRAP, while I see the rest of the world living!!! I hate that its a good reason why I can’t ever just have some straight up good shit without an asterisk. I am so tired of bad shit. I just feel tired period.


Everything I Ever Needed To Learn About Life I Learned On Facebook

Ok, I dont even know where to start so I will just list things.

The 7 that welcomed me onto facebook was known to me as Wayne, bt he got knowledge of self and was reborn as Rahborn. He made me feel so welcome. And he told me that he’d fucked Allison and they used to swing something whenever he came up to NY making runs. Then I was talking to this Israelite who is of course wacky (prerequisite to being a HI) and Aq, who used to try and talk to me when we were in HS and was mad cool. Now he’s a family man and cool as hell, laid back and happy.

Then my friend Ruby tapped into the highest plane of metta. She manifested the Green Tara on me. Ruby is my Cap sister for real and she has the Gifts of the Spirit thing. That was the support that I never expected that the Universe promised me.

Then I wrote how much I loved Dr. Bronners soap and how if anybody wanted to give me a gift they should give me some. Guess what my kids father gave  me yesterday?

Then today, the One, that I was asking for when I first started my blog…Yeah, I met Him.

I’m going to come back and update this post (OF COURSE) cause this is my life now bt I just had to thank the Universe.


My friend Ruby told me today about gaslighting.

I am going to make this real quick just a heads up to let the Universe know I’m still alive.

I feel so bad and everything is in the toilet right now.

I don’t know what to do to stop feeling this way or to fix my fucked up life.

A Report Card or…My Brother Comes to Visit

I feel so embarrassed I just want to hide my face.

Yesterday my brother came over here and gave me a talking to about wilding the fuck out on Saturday.Uggghhh. I am so embarrassed I just want to pull some covers over my head. He told me how police could’ve shot me if they’d seen me with that knife, all I did was make myself block fodder, I wilded out in front of billions (the block is billions).  Then he told me I have to speed up the process of getting back to Mecca, now. Directly, ASAP as in don’t leave the house again or show my face before I do. He told me I have to go on a personal hajj and to worry about saving myself before I try to save anybody else.

My kids father always makes me feel dumb in general but right now I feel like a jerk. I feel like hiding my face from him. He is pissed off, big time. I hate fucking up. Hate it.

Kiss From The Universe

Alot has happened in a few days. Two days ago, this crackhead lizard looking crackhead that lives down the block came on the porch acting wild. Today my kids father was fighting him and his gang of teenagers came running up the block and I went and got a knife. I didn’t know all day why I did it, it was impulsive and reactionary. I thought they was running up trying to jump him.

I was thinking about it all day like what if by doing that and NOT letting Mike get beat up (because everybody started focusing on me with the knife, I fucked up a  chance to resolve that shit for once and for all. Ive been thinking about that in an endles loop all day. Then I read this:

It’s strange how often, in our struggle to do the right thing, we end up doing the wrong thing. We wrestle with moral dilemmas till we feel sure we have considered issues from all angles. Then, after time has passed, we see it all from one more crucial perspective and feel slightly foolish. Even the powerful Transit of Venus hasn’t been miraculous enough to ensure that you never go through that again. It will though, eventually allow you to put the other side of that coin to tremendously valuable use. Every so often in life, due to various pressures or apparent problems, we do what we think is the wrong thing, only to discover that it has turned out to be absolutely right in more ways than we could have ever dreamed. A recent apparent ‘mistake’ has effectively been an action of sheer genius. When you realise this, don’t just count yourself lucky. Count yourself entitled to relax.
Then start taking life a little easier and a little less seriously. For there’s a lot of love, a lot of reassurance, a lot of support and a lot of prosperity on its way to you now. And to help it all make its way into your world, all you have to do is be a lot less rigid, responsible and ‘grown up’ and a lot more mischievous, impulsive and childlike!

We’ll see…

What is a Kiss From the Universe?:

A Kiss from the Universe
Wednesday, October 28, 2009 at 4:41am

Biggin’ Up My AstroTwins: Sade Adu and Super Mario 357

Last week,  I met myself and I was a dude.

There’s this dude (whose uncle lives in the basement) whom I’ve known in passing for a while now. The first thing about him is he has shoulders like a Frigidaire and a build like a defensive lineman. Son is like 6’4, 250 and his fingers are mad thick and long like hotdogs. He radiates diesel. This young girl across the street liked him so we’d introduced them, telling her what to do to build a relationship with him because in addition to the Bod, he’s also a good catch. Nice energy, nice ways, nice job and a nice personality. If she had played her cards right, she could’ve had a nice little something.

But instead she got on some hot and horny shit and fucked him. And him being a Capricorn, that was that. I knew for a while, from casual conversation he was a Capricorn but it wasn’t until I talked to him last Monday that I found out his whole DOB and did his chart.

He  is (damn near) my AstroTwin.  Sun in Capricorn, Moon in Aries, Venus in Aquarius. That was crazy to me! I was like Oh shit, no wonder.  He just came out of a nine year long relationship with a girl who got the axe for being ungrateful. Check. When they were together, he just wanted it to grow and develop. Check. He’s lonely and he misses her but neither one of them are changing so its not a go. Check. He said, the next chick that bags me has to understand I do the things I do to make you smile, not to spoil you. Check. The most attractive thing about him is he looks good and he knows it but he is not led around by his dick. He never cheated on homegirl. (You lost big sistren. Verrry verrry big…Good luck finding a next man to buy you red bottom shoes and bring his ass home every night, lol.  Really tho…)

I feel mad love for him like I wish this dude the very best of everything in life…love, peace and happiness.

Onward and upward, somehow, I happened upon Sade’s astrochart.

I, like everybody else, love Sade. Not just her music but her whole vibe. My favorite song of hers is Maureen, about her homegirl from back in the days.

I also love Let’s Not Play The Game. (which now that I try to post the video, I don’t think was ever her single, like maybe she did a remix…cause I downloaded it off Limewire but the only artist that comes up on youtube is Maxwell.)

This chic is so together, so awesome and cool and laid back. On style alone, she’s all of that, real talk. And I don’t even say “real talk”… or “all of that”.  And like everybody else, I don’t know ANYTHING about her. I didn’t know if she’s younger or older than me, who her man is, if she has kids, nothing. Until I saw her chart and I had to find out….  (or better yet confirm, because once I saw the similarities I  knew the answers at once…None of my fucking business!!!).

She’s my astrotwin, for real for real: Sun in Capricorn, Moon in Aries, Mercury in Capricorn, Venus in Aquarius and Mars in Taurus!!!

Not only is Sade great, stylish and iconic, she is one of the best people who ever lived. She has to be and I found an interview with her and dead serious, we are just alike so she must be:

Sade is so very private, so extremely wary of the press that her friends – all of whom are bound to silence – have nicknamed her Howie, after Howard Hughes. The most reclusive British singer of the 1980s has kept such a low profile since her Smooth Operator days – one tour in 14 years – that, when we meet at the London office of her record label to hear the songs from her new album, Soldier of Love, I am the only person in the room who has met her before.

That is more telling about the accuracy of Greecian based astrology— which would have you believe that as a meanie-ass, workaholic Capricorn she’d live in the workplace or in her case, record label — than anything else but anyway…

She is the most successful solo female artist Britain has ever produced: she has sold more than 50m albums in a career that stretches back 27 years. And more than half of those albums were sold from the mid-1990s onwards, when Sade all but disappeared from view. Since then, she has only surfaced a few times — and this is the only face-to-face interview she will consent to now.

Paradoxically, in person she is open, friendly and relaxed – she’s happy to let me into her spacious Georgian house in leafy north London – and willing to laugh at herself.

A home she loves and hates to leave and I’m sure was her pet and her project and her baby. I assure you, this home is solid brick or stone, huge but comfy and luxurious and worn. He house is addictive and sleepy and cozy.

She has never lived down the image of her sashaying around in a designer frock singing Smooth Operator. But like so much of the little that is known – or believed – about Sade Adu, that’s not right… In her mind Sade is, and always has been, a country girl at heart.

Sade is keen on “loyalty to the point of clannishness”, according to one longtime friend.

Their earnings from recording and live work have always been an even four-way split. There have been arguments over the years – “because my naffometer is much more sensitive than theirs”, she claims – but no break-ups or new members.

“I always said that if I could just find a guy who could chop wood and had a nice smile it didn’t bother me if he was an aristocrat or a thug as long as he was a good guy.”

I feel like I’ve won the lottery, finally.

“I’m not someone who needs a lot of money. You could break into this house and leave after half an hour without finding anything worth stealing,” says Sade, and it’s hard to disagree. The first-floor drawing room of her London house is a large but sparsely furnished space with a couple of white fabric-covered sofas, a polished-wood floor and nothing much on the walls. For the past hour we’ve been sitting on a red rug in front of a one-bar electric fire that must be about as old as she is. She has several of these obsolete burners, she says. “They’re my favourite.”

Frugality – another traditional country habit – is her style, but she’s generous with it. As soon as the royalties rocked up, she helped her mother buy a house in Clacton, bought her brother Banji a place in the States, and supported various unnamed friends in “business ventures”. Her touring musicians comment on how fair she has been in awarding valuable songwriting credits for their contributions — a rare thing in the tightfisted world of pop accountancy.

She has done this on the strict understanding that none of the beneficiaries talk about it, “or ever write anything about me”, which they haven’t. It’s not just a personal-privacy thing, or control freakery, she claims, “I just don’t like the power relationship it implies”.

“I always wanted to have money.  But the great thing is when you’ve got it, your life doesn’t revolve around money any more.”

Please let that be true. And let me find out for myself very, very, very soon Universe ; ))).

Outside on the drive is her boxy old Volvo estate, which she traded for her vintage BMW

My two favorite cars!!! My last car was a Volvo 940 and my next car is a BMW 750 or 760 or old school 740. What a coincidence!

With her sensible country head on, she realises how fortunate she is. She has sorted out her home life, earned all the money she will ever need, and continues to make music in her own time and in her own way. “Is it still worth it? I think it is. After every album, I think, ‘Right that’s it, no more.’ But how lucky am I at my age still to be doing this without any outside pressure?”

This is the point I want to reach in my own life. I want to feel like this, too. I am so happy that me and Sade are astro-twins!!!

The Little Things

Since last night, I have been crying and crying. You can’t even imagine how weak and stupid and dumb and pathetic and simple I feel that I am once again crying over Baby Daddy shit.

Two or three weeks ago, my kids father came home and stayed the week. We had fun, shit felt like old times and just good, like I started getting caught up in the pipe dreams, feeling like things were going back to how they were. Then he left on a Friday and didn’t come home that night, the next night and then around 1am that Saturday turning to Sunday, text me that he was going to a studio. Since then, I have just shut down and retreated from that motherfuckr because THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT.

I am not going to make it easy for a motherfuckr to do what he’s trying to do. He wants everything to be good here, like he can come thru, eat, fuck, play games and then go do him, feeling good inside because he’s got the home shit under control and he can be the man in the streets. I’m not going to help nobody play me because I never wanted a motherfucker coming thru, fucking me and taking my shit and going to do him. I never wanted to be nobody’s baby mama.

I wish it was a way out of this. I just want this to be OVER so bad. I wish all of this away, for something to happen where this whole situation is GONE. I hate the way I’m feeling right now. I’m lonely, I don’t have help with my kids and I don’t know where this is headed, where I am going to end up or what is going to happen.

I keep feeling that he has some woman pregnant too. I wish that bitch a living hell. I wish her misery, heartache, poverty, sadness, death and sorrow. I hope he turns her life into a giant piece of shit and when her baby isn’t a carbon copy of him, I hope he treats her kid the same way he treats my oldest son. I wish that bitch an ocean of tears and never ending drama, confusion and betrayal. Neverending, till the day she dies. And if she ever tries to bring that baby around, I’m ragging her fucking ass on sight. If I’m not there when he does it, my big daughter better handle it for me like I would for her.

I tried to say, I’m doing this so my kids can have their father in their life but goddamn. This dude keeps saying funky shit to my kids, he treats them like an afterthought, he doesnt help, he’s too distracted to guide them, listen when they’re talking or even realize nobody wants to hear about how good he can fight and nobody can beat him ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Nonstop. He’s determined to do dumb shit now so later he can be like “I didn’t know, I was going thru this at that time and thats why things came out all fucked up but you know I’m a great guy.” like then everyone will be like awww, our daddy so crazy.

My kids have as high a standard for other people as they do  for themselves. Nobody is trying to hear that shit. One day he’s going to get a real rude awakening and as soon as I see it coming, I’m going to leave the room.

For myself, I’m getting some pills to numb all this. I can’t handle the heartbreak of such a long relationship ending. Its like when I came here and never saw my grandaunt again and I never saw my people again. My fantasy is that one day this nigga  slips up and confirms my suspicion that he’s a body double for my husband, who was really thrown into Guantanamo by  the forces of evil in 2004 when I didn’t hear from him from April 22nd to June 2nd. Thats when they got him, threw a garbage bag over his head and disappeared him.  He’s fighting for his life, staying strong, not breaking under any torture, wondering everyday what we think happened to him, not knowing they sent Zero here in his place.  My fantasy is that one day Zero slips up and I catch him out there. I wouldn’t even ask no questions after that. I would knife that motherfucker down. There’d be some white pawr! jumping off in here cause I would hack him down into the basement. I would stab his ass till I couldn’t move my hand or broke one of the crossbeams in the ceiling and we went crashing down into the basement. And even then somebody would have to get me off him.

I can’t deal with the failure of my family. To hold shit together, I have to raise my kids by myself, do everything and act friendly with this nigga while he does him, and I can’t do it. I still have my vision for us. The family compound, businesses and all my grandkids and greatgrankids and great great grandkids.  I dream of there one day being so many of us that as I look out over them, I see the Tree of Life.

I picture my heart  glowing like the sun when I look into all the new faces and their old eyes. Thats for us. I don’t see anything for him because I can’t see anything changing or ever trusting him again or any peace. I don’t want to envision being 80 years old with a broken heart. I don’t want this confusion in my life AT ALL, now, let alone in the prime of my life. I just want this to be over. I don’t even tell him when the kids fuck up or do dumb shit because I don’t want him to throw it back in our faces. Him having the keys to our house is like the cops being able to come in here at any time.

I can’t deal with how powerless I feel. I feel like I am just powerless against all the shit in my life I hate.

Random Family

I first heard about Boy George from my Kid’s Father. Boy George was a large drug nigga like Alpo and Fat Cat but from the Bronx where my kid’s father is from. I heard this nigga had the James Bond cars that shot oil from the tail and tacks to flatten tires of anybody trying to carchasel him and that he had parties where Jody Watley and other stars at the peak of their careers performed. I heard some other shit that didn’t make it into the book and is therefore not my place to repeat.

So when I found this book  Random Family (on a stoop) and saw his name in the blurb about the book, I thought this was going to be along the lines of Scarface or American Gangster.

I have to segue a lil’ into a whole other tangent.

All along, for some time now, I’ve been asking for a teacher or a guide. My kids father was my teacher and guide for a long time. Then it became like how when you first start taking piano lessons you feel like your teacher is a master but after awhile you practice the chords and repeat, repeat, repeat until you find your own intuitive ability. Then you start veering off, playing with different melodies and developing your innate talent. After a while, there isn’t anything more to learn from that teacher and you have to move on.  When the focus of our relationship became drama, mistrust, hostility, suspicion and dishonesty, he couldn’t teach me anymore because I didn’t want to learn that and it was like his focus became trying to destroy me. The more I started really seeing the ugly things he said, did or thought the further and further away I felt from him to where mentally we don’t connect anymore. And because I stopped trusting him , he stopped being an authority on anything to me.

One day, and I swear I’m not even bullshitting this man came on TV and started saying things that tied into all the millions of thoughts running around the hamster wheel of my brain. I went ahead and when I got the money, bought the CDs he was talking about.

I didnt have the money right then so for about a month, I just thought about it and thought about it. I researched Sri Yantra and sacred geometry and the “tulpa” and mad shit was going thru my head but in broken strands not in any orbit. When I first listened to the tapes, I was feeling like this was too simple and the man was really only saying the same things over and over but there were little things that he said that struck me and let me know if this wasnt the real shit it was very close to it.

So anyway, last week I’m listening to this man and it is relevant that he’s a WHITE man talking about how you can create great wealth or whatever the hell you want with your mind and how this is the secret of success. And I applied it and it worked a little to show me that it works.

Then I started reading this book and it turned out to not be a scintillating urban action thriller at all but the story of a Bronx family. The tragic, heartbreaking and painful story of the shit that we as Black women all go thru, about the lack, degradation, misery, confinement and brokenness that has  become us. Everybody in this book, (except for Boy George who knows the EXACT shit I paid that guide to teach me when I bought those CDs and who put it in the realest way possible so you can feel it), is powerless.

This dude that was down with GW Bush said “We’re history’s actors. We create realities while you stand around and study what we do.”

I have been living a made life, made by other people, studying their moves after they’ve made them, always playing catch-up, trying to make $250 out of $.50.

When I started this blog, I thought it would play out as me rewinding tape and editing out some parts, splicing the good back together and rolling footage. But now its looking like I have to take this straight to DVD. Its turning into something totally different.

Sinking Into Depression

I feel like shit. I’ve been feeling that way for three days now, culminating in drinking a bottle of vodka the day before yesterday. I woke up yesterday totally embarrassed trying to think back to everything I said and did. I told my kids father I feel anxious and he told me some dumb shit about not accepting things because they are “unconventional”. Fuck atta here, whatever that means.

I am sad because I feel like I am always going to be a failure. I haven’t accomplished anything and I don’t have the means of accomplishing anything. On top of that, I feel mad lonely, like Life hates me. I feel like there is no point to me being alive. Its like I’m here to suffer and learn hard lessons and serve a disproportionate “justice” for everything I am and everything I do.

I feel like I’m breaking all the way down mentally, like if I could find something to be high on all the time, I would just do that.

My mind isn’t at peace. I have so many things that are unresolved and broken to fix. And no emotional support. Don’t get me wrong. I have good friends that I am grateful to have but all of my friends have their own families, their own kids, their own empty pockets, half ass jobs, their own shit. Nobody is in a position to have me lean on them or to reassure me that things will be okay for me when they don’t know for themselves even how their own shit will turn out. I can’t put it on them.

I don’t have anybody in my life where they feel what happens to me. This lady called it a twin soul when she wrote about it and at the time I didnt understand her but its true for me too. It doesn’t have to be a man, although I’d like it to be. I just want somebody connected to me like that. Its like if something happened to me, everybody would have a reaction and I know a whole bunch of people would be sad but other than my kids, I’d just be a girl that they knew who died.

When my brother told me to start this blog and find my way back, I had a whole bunch of preconceived notions of what things would look like at the end. I imagined it to look very much like the past but I don’t want to go back to the past. I want a new life.

I want my own house that I designed.

I want a successful business.

I want to travel and go places and see some of what I only read about to make them real.

I want a string of good things to happen to even out the bad all the time so its not like I’m cursed.

I want good friends again, like Regine and Edna and Nickita and Tanya McCreary and ALL of the real friends that I had when I was little.

I am overwhelmed by the losses back to back to back and the rejection all the time.

Capricorn Woman, Cancer Men…The Saga

There are three Cancer Men in my life and all three of them are kicking my ass emotionally right now.

The first is my little big brother. My little big brother was born when I was six. The events happened back to back: I came to this country, went to sleep a few nights and woke up one morning to him being here. I knew about pregnant women and that my mother was pregnant when I saw her again the first time but my little brother’s birth was like I made a wish and got it. I was miserable when I came here. My little sister was jealous (she was 3, she couldn’t help it) and the first things she did were in that vein, scratching me, snatching my chain off, running between me and her mother. It was so dirty here and I missed the two dozen people that made up my daily life till that point badly. So when I suddenly had a baby here just like the babies I had back at home, I was happy as hell.

I loved my little big brother. He was born with a big ass head and a face like a pie. He had some kind of autism or retardation and they used to talk about him in terms of how fucked up he’d be because of his condition. I felt mad protective towards him. He was one of those people that couldn’t conceive of grimey shit, like he was innocent and sweet and so grateful for any little thing you did for him. I used to kiss my little brother up like a million times a day and play with him all day, carrying him around like a doll. I remember getting a beating when he ate mud. I made mud cakes and this little boy ate them and was sitting there with a mouthful of mud and my mother lit my ass up. I remember another beating from playing with the hose until I sprayed a big ass patch of the grass up out of the lawn spraying him. My moms was never maternal, never kissy or huggy or sweet but I was, especially to him. I loved the shit out of my little brother and apparently the feeling was very, very, very mutual.

As time went on, I stayed close to him. I used to cook for him, read with him and teach him things from the Mathemagics book that we had. I don’t have one bad memory of him in my whole life. When he was little and he told me still to this day, his favorite food is my world famous spaghetti with hotdogs and ketchup. (It can’t be the taste, I think its the memories for him too). He doesn’t eat raw lunchmeat because I used to cook cold cuts and his favorite drink is sugar water lemonaide, my other gourmet specialty. My little big brother had that idiot savant thing where he can learn some things so well its like his memory is photographic but he’s otherwise not smart. He knows two plus three is five but he can’t learn life lessons. He had the entire MTA subway map memorized when he was four so he could tell you every stop that every train stopped at and all the connections. He never understood social cues or that people are fucked up inside or that bad stuff happens to good people. But because he was always with me, he used to play with all the other little kids and he learned to socialize. He learned to play sports and games but he never was the right age mentally. When my little big brother was like eleven, I left my mother’s the first time for good.

By then, my littlest brother, the second Cancer was born. My littlest brother was fucked up bad with autism. He was born when I was sixteen. My mother knew how I was with babies and she expected that I would be the same way with him as I had been with my little big brother but I was a teenager then and engrossed in my own shit. Engrossed. I took care of my littlest brother and when I was home he was always up under me but thats when I was home, which I tried to make as little of the time as possible. Hindsight being twenty/twenty I used to think my mother had my littlest brother to try and patch things up with her husband but she might have been thinking of me too, wishing that the baby being there would make me come back and be how I was. Life is crazy.

At any rate, I was too engrossed to understand. I didn’t even understand myself at that age.

I didn’t come home. I was too busy chasing another Cancer. My kid’s father. You know how people say they thought “the world” of somebody? I thought the Sun of that dude. I loved my kids’ father. Everything about him fascinated me and I remember when we first started living together, laying next to him looking at his face and playing with his eyelashes and touching his skin.

Not in a sexual way, but I remember doing that to all my Cancers. Even my daughter now. I remember doing that to all of them and telling them how much I loved them and that they were my sweety love baby or my benjiboom or my big big bigboy or with the kids father… my true and living god. Without really thinking of  what happened to those words when they left my mouth. I never really thought of how those words affected them or what impact I had on them.  I get caught up in my emotions, what people make me feel and my needs to where I don’t see myself as an active doer in relationships but that’s probable the case for everybody.

I’m not ready to talk about it yet but my little big brother just got married. I missed his wedding. Just like, I missed all the other important things in his life once I left home. My brother used to come wherever I was at and just sit with me the day but I never really thought about why he was there. I just figured he aint have nothing else to do, without thinking he’s a Cancer and maaaad emotional and he’s guided by those feelings. Whenever I cut my moms off, I never made other arrangements to stay in tune with him. Its like one minute this little boy had me not just in his corner but I liked him, understood him, loved him unconditionally thru and thru always and the next minute I just turned my back. But at the time,

I was about to go into a bunch of lies. Without meaning to lie. But the truth is that I just forgot about him. That makes me feel foul on par with my moms and her foul-ness. That’s Mummy caliber of hurting people. I just forgot about him, like if I thought about him I would smile but not go look for him. The same thing with my littlest brother.

He was four when I had my own son. The craziest thing I remember was that one time he had on an old hat that belonged to one of my friends from Tech when I came to the house. I asked him about it and he launched into a whole speech about the boy and he’d remembered EVERYTHING I’d told him like I was a living legend. He was wearing that hat like my jersey. When he was a baby, I used to talk mad slow to him but never in baby talk and I would drag out the explanations of everything down to the detail. I would say things like “Benji, walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, look in the door of the fridge and get a purple container that says Silk. Open it and put it on the table. Get a bowl. Get the cereal and pour it into the bowl, slowly so you don’t spill it. When you see the top of the cereal make a mountain, put the bowl on the table next to the Silk. Then pour some silk on the cereal until only the top of the mountain is showing.” for everything. He used to wild out when people gave him regular directions and he couldn’t follow and they’d hit him or call him names but I always had patience. He wasn’t supposed to be able to show affection because of the autism but I kissed and tickled and played with him so much that he was very affectionate. Sometimes inappropriately so. My little brother used to tickle my kids’ father which was super creepy. He knew Benji was autistic but he still used to react like how anybody would react if a little crazy kid just started tickling them.

That reminds me of another Cancer, born on the 4th of July, my friend’s son Rah. My friend was mean as a rattlesnake and she used to beat  her kids up bad. All day, she’d be smacking, punching, pulling hair, screaming in their faces, even kicking them. Rah was like four but he had no teeth because all his front teeth had gotten rotted out by the bottle. But he was the sweetest baby. I used to play with him all day and kiss him up and protect him. The daughter was too shellshocked to really be close to anybody but she used to like to hold my hand and sit next to me. Rah though was like he wanted to climb into my body like if he could squeeze himself into my belly he would’ve. One day my kid’s father came over there and he was like why is the young god looking at me like that?

Rah was ice grilling him, mad dogging  him, mad as fuck the whole day. As young as he was, the jealousy was very mannish like if he had any wins, he would’ve tried to kick my kids’ father’s ass. I would have had to choose that day, lol.  Again with the hindsight being twenty/twenty my kid’s father was teasing me like I was cheating with the little boy or something but that was probably not far from what Rah was thinking. He was hurt and mad when my kids’ father showed up. My little big brother wanted to play ball and make music because of my kid’s father and he’d sit there and listen to what he was doing for hours when he came to the crib. If I’d had the level of understanding I do now then, I would’ve told my kids father our history and to just take him under the wing because he was going through some abandonment shit. My littlest brother like I said, used to tickle him and come sit with him whenever he was there. I never thought about it though, really, in terms of what they were going through.

So much shit that I never thought about. My little big brother stayed mad short, kept the same size head and went into the military. I moved uptown and hardly ever saw my littlest brother after a while. When I would see him though, I would take him to do whatever  I could that was the most fun with him. If I had a car, I’d take them driving. If I had five dollars, we’d walk and get ice cream. He was another one that was supremely grateful for anything.

Its like if that lady from Helen Keller just quit her job and went to go work in an office.  Like if one Monday, helen keller was sitting there waiting for anne sullivan and this heifer had just bounced, got her a next job, a kid of her own or something and never came to check her.

Back to the three pronged assault though. I was talking to my little big brother and I told him that me and my kids father broke up and that I put him out. He goes so where did he go? I said I don’t know, to his brothers. The shit felt so heavy when he asked me like somebody just told me they put somebody old out in the cold with no money and no help. He asked me what about the kids. I told him they were okay and he didn’t say anything. Then he asked me if my kid’s father got a new wife. I said some angry shit and he goes thats so messed up for your family and then he asked me if my kid’s father was sick. I said no. And then I told him that he twice shit a toilet bowl full of blood. He went silent. I could hear him breathing but neither of us could talk.  He told me he’d known my kids father since he was little and he’d never thought about him getting old and dying.

I felt like running. Dead serious. All I could think was how can I get some money so I can move to Hawaii. If I had anywhere to go I would’ve dropped the phone and ran there.

My little brother told me he’s always going to love me but. I can’t handle that either.

Then my littlest brother wrote me a letter asking me to please take him somewhere for his bday with “my family”. That made me think of how I had built him up like he would always have me and then pushed him away till now he’s an outsider that has to be asking to tag along. And then the type of people that he is, he’s been thinking about that  for awhile, probably since the last time I spent time with him…three years ago.

My kid’s father (i can’t think of an alias yet) is the third prong. He makes me feel autistic and retarded. On the relationship level, he deserved to get put out on his fucken ass but emotionally, going back to our history and looking at the whole of everything, I can’t deal with how wicked I feel for turning my back on him and putting him out in the street after the way I built him up. I can’t deal with how I was looking at the blood in the toilet medically when any little thing  that happens in MY body, I relate to stress and emotional breakdown. When LE (my little big brother) took that shit so hard, I thought about when my kid’s father found out his brother had heart surgery. And he was fucked up, like this can’t be happening to my Olympian pet grizzly bear BIG brother. It was like this iconic legendary hero that was like superman since he was little is now kicked and bloody on the ground on front of him and there’s nothing he can do about it.  My kid’s father was the first dude that was good at everything, muscles bulging and ‘hood and smart and good at the video games he played with my little brothers. I never think about that. This is my brother’s superman. When I look at how my brothers started working out, making music, playing ball and even carrying themselves, that’s their model.

And I never thought about that.

So, where it is right now is since then, I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking.  other people and my impact on them. What we all need. what they need from me. It would be nothing for me to go find my little big brother, go meet his wife, hug him up and kick it with them and make everybody feel good. It would be nothing for me to tell my mother to start letting my littlest brother spend the weekends with me. It’s nothing for me to tell my kid’s father that I love him and always will. But what about maintaining that shit? With my kids father I look at it like he’s a grimey nigga that at any time could destroy me mentally, emotionally and spiritually and I have to keep him at arm’s length so he doesn’t end up having me smoking crack somewhere. I can’t trust him and what he wants to do is destructive to me.

Its not just the cheating, but everything that comes with it – the rejection, the lies, the competing with other bitches for some “thing” that’s supposed to be mine, not ever knowing exactly what is going on, the mindgames I can’t play because I am looking at it like this is my life… All I can do is crumble under that. He was here all week until Friday. Friday he left and spent the night somewhere and then Saturday I guess the same and then he went to some studio and now he is wherever he is. What can come from that? Like what is in it for me to pursue a relationship with a man so he can feel comfortable dividing his time between home and family and the shit that he really likes to do so he can rap about how he fucks alot? So with him, uggghhhh…

They say you have the same relationship with a cancer man as you do with your mother and that is the truth. Just like her, he didn’t want me when he had me and now he can’t come back. The day she killed it for me was the day she told me that a man she met on the street and started fucking with was her family and for me that came out of her body to stop messing with her family. The day this dude killed it for me was the day he told me he was confused. That had a harder impact then when he told me he never wanted these kids, I just kept getting pregnant. That was a doozie but the confused shit blew that away… Twenty years and five kids in and you is confused? WTF fuck kinda weak ass shit is that? He could have told me anything and it would have been better than saying that. If you confused then you not in control and I’m know I’m not in control so who the  is? Amanda Rollins or Ithiopia or SarahPNC?

I have reached the point where I don’t have to be fighting with him but I know he’s not my peoples.  I take the best part he has to offer that day and I don’t look for nothing else. Cause  he has NOTHING for me. The day is never going to come where I get back from him anything equal to what I put in or when I don’t feel like I need a drink to be okay with “us”. So the honest truth is that I wasn’t planning on maintaining anything with him because as soon as I could, my plan was to RUN. As soon as I met another man I fell in love with and my kids were in a situation where they could function independently that was going to be the last my kid’s father ever heard or saw of me, lol. Whatever had happened the day before be damned, I would drop his ass like a hot rock and make moves. We could have been in bed talking about the highest sciences and mathematics and how much we were the Sun and Earth and hours later, I would’ve met my real soulmate and boated.  And I felt like he deserved no more or less.

But my brothers don’t. I don’t want to make them feel good or show them that I love them today and then can’t maintain it. I need to find a way to bring them into my life, to stay. Otherwise I’m going to turn on the news one day and see my brother’s face on there (either one) talking about he’s the one thats been killing all those hookers.

I also need to stop feeling overwhelmed by feelings. But I feel overwhelmed, till the point of being crippled. I can’t think of emotions or feel a deep one without something happening in my chest or crying. They don’t get integrated into the experience and then I feel needy or like I’m missing something. Too often, I think of a person and then think of how I feel for them, as two separate things.

Help Me Universe. I’ll leave it at that. I was trying to think of a solution so I could leave things nice and tidy but thats not the reality. Just help me Universe.

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