Black Panther HURT ME SOUL

Not much in the way of spoilers along the way but I must type this out because I was deeply injured by what I saw on the big screen.

Don’t get me wrong. I laughed a lot and from my gut, while I watch Black Panther. I laughed nervously; I laughed from the pain of furtive cultural references that most non-Black people would even barely catch as a significant message.

Tucked within the script are very strong references to African American pain from centuries of being systematically disenfranchised. And I was hurt in ways I did not think I could be hurt. Each character pokes at the elephant in the room in one way or another and each time it touched a soft spot within me.

With that, there is one particular character that rings the most true as for a real manifestation of that pain: Killmonger. Killmonger’s seething rage is palpable; familiar, nostalgic and uncomfortable to watch.  Watching him move was like watching a video of yourself doing something bad that you regretted (while remembering how justified you were for doing it).  Seeing how poorly you are treated and how lowly others esteem you to be but feeling in dissonance with that because what “makes” you less than any other person? But you aren’t asking for equality, you are willing to kill for the Future of your people and a younger me definitely could relate to the cold calculating way that dreams were realized: RESONATED.

Killmonger supplanted Black Panther as my “Spirit Animal”. I loved his passionate grasp. reach and determination: he is undeniable. Unfortunately, that was not to last. We cannot live within rage. We are emotional beings. Cognitive creatures. We exist because we think and therefore and nothing more. This is why the Past is important. This is why History is important. This is why stories are important. This is Why representation is important. This is also why Black Panther is important. T’Challa’s trial by fire plays a very important role in his character development. Yet, I read many an article that decried the base savagery of a technologically superior society that needs to conduct itself the way Wakanda does with ritual combat. But ritual combat plays into a much larger theme of Black people not being able to separate themselves from a violent life of having to fight for survival and I am incredibly disappointed that NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THE CRITICS RECOGNIZED THE IMPORTANCE OF RITUAL COMBAT AS PART OF THE THEME.

The movie was crafted and told brilliantly albeit somewhat crass at times, the countless references throughout the movie started as a positive implementation of inside jokes and spiraled out into painful memories and open wounds being touched with uncaring hands. I believe that was to assert the need for progress beyond all things.

Anyway, keep your eyes on the prize. Remember what you are fighting for and be sure you approach it with the same vigor that Killmonger chased his goals. He unfurled how far he went to achieve his goals and showed just how unstoppable a person is when they enact a plan with such a level of conviction that failure is impossible.

I need to find that again. This movie reminded me. Being at a low point just proves to myself that I was ready to receive this message and I am listening to the Universe place me in a place to improve on my perspective.


Release and Seal.

I suppose, the reason, if I ever held any bitterness towards a former miss, it’s because she left me when I was furthest from bliss.

First semester in college….overwhelmed with moving and being alone…

Just moved into a new apartment, had a new job, and lost two cars…one of which I had just purchased.

When I had spent money I didn’t have, to move cross state in a truck known to overheat while towing every possession I owned and a heavy heart….

I just…I have every right to be bitter and hate them. But I don’t. I just want them to live a happy life…as far away from me as possible. I don’t want to think about any of them for the next decade. I tried my best at the time. They still left me. Lies, all of them told. I wasn’t even mad. I was hurt.

However, with these words, I seek to release them… I seek to seal whatever hesitations, bitterness, jadedness or experience they’ve granted me. I seek to be naive again. I seek the honesty of being rawlly honest.





No responses to memories.

Think and smile but never pause long enough to talk to echoes.

Happy Birthday

We don’t talk anymore. That’s my doing. I want to keep it that way.
Still, I know troubles are ever present in this day and age of living through black skin.
I offer congratulations on another year; appreciation for the years we mattered to one another and the lessons we learned during those times.
I will not forget the lessons nor will I forget what helped me to learn those lessons.
There will always be good and bad with that. The bad is far more temporary when it comes to hurt feelings.
Cannot cry until the Sun darkens. Gotta do something to change.
So, continue forward intrepidly. Again, congrats on another year. Wishing the best.

Whether you see this or not is inconsequential. That I did it is all that matters to me. 

A year later

Three and a half years after the hurricane rolled into my life, it has been out of my life for a year.

I do not think I have ever been so in love before. Then again, every love I have known has been drastically different. This love seemed to put the others into perspective. I was really young with my first love. As rough as I was around the edges, she and I simply worked. I LOVED that girl. I loved her body. I loved her ability to be herself despite how dominating I was. Unfortunately, there were more forces involved than my young mind could handle. I could have been happy with her, if and only if I was who I am now. Before, she had no chance of happiness. I recognize that. Still, she wanted me to marry her. Great girl.

The second probably loved me more than any woman has ever loved me. In retrospect, I really broke her heart and I feel absolutely horrible about that. A lot happened and we were dumb about handling each other. I wanted her to marry me but she wanted to do things first. Those things just so happened to separate us. It’s odd, because my doubt was monumental despite how much she showed me she loved me. She simply wasn’t consistent and I needed that. She still wouldn’t be happy with the current me. But she certainly could appreciate my growth. And I grew a lot with her. I learned a lot about humans from dealing with her. She was probably my truest girlfriend. I made her feel some kinda way and she cherished that in me. Because I took care of her. I didn’t like the way that sounded but with her, my luck was fairly consistent. After her, my luck went south. I nicknamed her “Lucky” in my head. Go figure. The power of thought.

The most recent woman, was she a doozy or what. The woman I loved the hardest. I never tried so hard to be something significant to someone. My consistency, patience, understanding, acceptance and forgiveness all rocketed skyward with growth. She beat the living shit out of me…unintentionally…I think. Well, it had to be because I can’t see her doing it on purpose. I was an idiot for her. I threw away money for her. I lost countless articles of my personality just so I could continue being with her. These things weren’t her fault. I wasn’t built to be with her. I know that now. As hard as I tried and as much as I let go, it was an essential incompatibility that kept things sparse between us. To be fair, I think she really enjoyed me. In a way no other woman ever could. She utilized my compassion and understanding to help her sonar socially. She was great at utility in general but horrible at managing her star player(me). And I didn’t care what happened to me as long as I was with her. I always questioned whether she actually gave a damn about me…just as I questioned the other two. I’m silly. These women gave me everything I asked for and sometimes more and still, I was incapable of believing that they loved me for me. I always dismissed it because I was a good guy…even though they said I was mean. Each of them. They also said I was gentle and the way I cared about them was amazing. Conflicting data but I understand. Sometimes I was softer than others. Other times, they mistook what I was doing or meant. The only one I was truly mean to was the first one. The second saw some ugly sides of me but nothing bad. The third, well…I made a few mistakes here and there but mostly, my service to her was immaculate.

I was looking through the pictures, remembering my loves. I LOVED THEM SO HARD. I always will. I appreciate every second we squeezed out of being together. They are awesome women. I’m very proud to have known them. It would be a dream to have them all together and have a conversation. That would stroke the ever living fuck out of my ego. I would love for them to have a conversation about me. Hear the things they laugh about and poke fun at me about. I’d like to know what each of them thought my weakness was BUT the funny thing is, I don’t think they could have that conversation. The way each of them showed jealousy about me…the way they staked ownership of my existence and bitterness at the idea of me not being with them. I just don’t see them getting along long enough to say anything of note. I’d still….that would be something else for me. I don’t care if they had nothing but bad things to say about me. I gave the best I had to each of them at the time we were together. Honestly. I never tried to control any of them. I did explain the truth a little too often and made the equal but opposite reactions seem like punishment, but I intended it in a way that I felt disrespected and could not allow myself to stay. It’s just, you can’t give warnings on somethings. People take it as manipulation. I took it as giving a heads up. Touch fire, get burned. They took it like I was claiming to be an authority.

It’s not like I was being foul about it. They each thought it okay to reach back into the past and deal with exes. I never thought that was okay. Even more so now, do I think talking to exes is nothing but asking for trouble. As much as I love the women from my past? Nope, I can’t do it. Even if I never saw them again, my heart would feel the tug of familiar emotions. Once I love a person that deeply, I can’t turn back. I can’t be your friend. I can’t sit around crying myself to sleep every night. And it was year after my last relationship ended that I finally realized, this woman fucking LOVED me. Enjoyed me. Appreciated me. They all did. Each in her own way. Luckily for me, I didn’t let my doubt weigh too heavily on the things I did for them or how I talked to them.

Sometimes, my heart would be bruised and in tatters but I’m talking to them like it’s all fine. I tried to get them to open up to me and avoid judging them. I did a pretty good job but whenever I got with a woman, there was always some nigger offering his opinion about her reputation. First woman, everywhere I went, niggas was saying how she cheated. It was not true. Until I felt like she was cheating on me. The entire year I dated her before it became long distance, that vagina would just choke my penis to pain. After she went to bootcamp, she felt much looser. Now, back then, I wasn’t familiar with wetness principles. Now, I am sure she wasn’t cheating on me. Still, it doesn’t feel good to be cheated on in retrospect. That’s kinda worse than finding out it’s happening in the moment. You already been made a fool of and had no clue. I just thought she was cheating on me and I allowed that feeling to get me all ambivalent about dealing with her. One overly aggressive birthday phone call on her part and I was single again.

The second cheated on me after I cheated on her. I didn’t feel like she was treating my sacrifices appropriately and another chick was gassing me proper like, so I fell in that mouth and those big ass comfy lips. Oh lord, It’s hard to feel like those comfy lips weren’t worth that long period of pain I went through. I will never forget how those lips felt so there’s that. I also thought the second was cheating on me when she visited out of town. She was wearing another dudes sweats, staying at his place. Shit just seemed foul. My trust in her went south quickly. So when I went out of town, I got a fuck buddy and had a tremendous amount of fun. Second was saying tons of foul shit on the phone but it was a hard moment.

The third, well, she had her own demons to battle. She consistently inspired insecurity and expected that to be made okay. I could not handle that much. She’d say she did something then claim it was a lie and the truth never seemed to be given wings by her. Ultimately, she and I weren’t having sex for the greater part of our relationship and I thought she was having sex with everybody else. The “best friend” that would fly up from Texas…look. Paranoia is a bitch. It’s really hard to see love or trustworthiness in somebody who does things like that. She constantly said I was too critical but I didn’t have much else I could do.  I was lonely in love with her. I miss our conversations. I miss her companionship. I miss her and I miss the others. I miss everything about my lovers. They were so awesome to me. They loved me soooo much and I loved them sooooo endlessly.

It’s good tho. Now that I know, beyond any shadow of any doubt that they did indeed love me sincerely. They gave me great effort and I learned a lot from them because of that. Amazing young women. I am so proud of my choices. Each of them beautiful. Gorgeous. INCREDIBLY INTELLIGENT. Absolutely amazing. I love love love love love them. I miss miss miss miss miss them. I am endlessly grateful for them. I appreciate them forever. They can do nothing wrong in my eyes, aside from contacting me. Although, I love hearing from them, I know it is inappropriate for them to contact me. They are all taken. I am very happy for them. It’s beautiful and I wish them the best.

I was hurt when I lost each of them. I needed others to get over each. Suicidal even. BUT I LOVED AND LOST AND I AM IMMENSELY GRATEFUL FOR THE OPPORTUNITY. Thank you. All.


So, I am finally moving forward. I found me a great woman. A woman so sweet that I was immediately stricken with the softness of her character. She is probably the best fit for me this far. A week after meeting her, I got a job offer. Great luck and motivation. She’ll heal my heart up just fine. She’s honest and refreshed by my honesty. It’s really all win here. Going over my old videos and pictures helped me remember all of my flaws. I tried hard to remember so I avoid making the same mistakes. Without Toccara…without Erica…without Francesca…. I simply wouldn’t be the man I am today. I wouldn’t know the great feats I am capable of. I would know that I can love deeply and truly and still be an unbelievable man for a woman. Like a dream. You know how many times I’ve heard that? Enough to let me know that my love is as real as I can make it. Genuine to the core.


No more room in my life for you


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