Friday's Will

If you don’t do it now,

you risk losing your chance,

and opportunity to react.

Once you miss your chance and the gift has passed,

it’s impossible to go back.

Fear is a paralyzing force; controlling your choices-

even when you know your desire is well-

Fear stops your decisions;

halts your blessings,

and can make it impossible to prevail-

Move with haste and with plenty conviction;

how it feels in the spirit, that’s called intuition-

Things are not always what they seem- at times it was merely deception-

You must create your own dreams

And call it inception.

If your reality is skewed, best change your perception-

We help dictate our outcomes for freewill is a gift-

And as the world turns,

we can feel every shift.

And when things fall apart,

we recognize the callous rift-

Can’t control the past-

can only change, today-

And what you do now can change your life along the way-

So just take the day & seize it.

Well.

You can make it like heaven or create your own hell-

All can be well, or all can be for the birds-

Happiness is your choice-

So speak your own words.

Not you but Me

We became secret lovers- but started like public friends- 

A deep relationship-but no title can represent;

Or so he says..So I say 'cool.'

I’ll play the part- from start to go- long as he know,

no other lady better come between us;

don’t care if she's sweeter than Sadie –

but then I think again; second guess and question, maybe- 

I’ll bend the rules, if I do choose for a man that can save me;

a man who steps up, don’t give a fuck, game is tight, his pockets right, consistent fight,

and think about me beyond the nasty we did during the night;

yes, that would be ideal-

but, let me not jump the gun,

cuz' shooting yourself in the foot is not how any victor ever won;  

He says ‘girl you so special’ but he’s not ready for commitment-

I just continue to pretend - his rationale, I can't comprehend-

As we continue to swim- this pool of lust could drown Michael Phelps-

backstroke,

frontstroke,

Olympic dives for my deepest prize; the ecstasy between my thighs; the passion deep within his eyes-

I get seasick from this shit; but I can’t leave his pool so quick- 

winning is never really easy and I’m just not ready to quit-

It truly fucks up my mind and distorts my reality;

but I just pardon this cuz' the word says 'as a man thinketh then so is he'-

So it must be real, he must be true, he must be the only one for me

and I continue to lose myself in this jagged complexity. 

Losing sight of all that's right; sacrificing my dignity. 

Seemingly slave to a cave of physical rhapsody.

But I sadly been through this be-4 –so give me an A for letting it B-

I guess at times I'm 2 blind to C because he has the most amazing D-

feels like I’m on E whenever he’s inside of me. So as we F and he touches my G-

I continue to two-step to his rhythm-

a dark twisted fantasy; I don't know how to shake it off;

if only I had strength and could- alone then I would be- 

but the night time is so dark, and so chilly are my sheets-

and so empty is my house; so i call him to take off my blouse-

I cannot fight the urge; afraid of my inner capacity- 

but I continue to play his game until I can come to grips with

Me.

 

Father Time

When the cup cannot contain

When the kettle starts to hiss

When the light has faded dim

When your happiness is in remiss

When the clock strikes 12

When the energy has diminished

When your passion starts to flicker

When the meal on the plate is finished

When the joy has gone bitter

When the sweet is tasting sour

When you are desperate for the future & despise the very hour

When movement comes to a halt

When growth is stifled cold

When the new is no longer novel

When your thoughts are no longer bold

When the cliff is at its edge

When the oasis runs dry

When the runner completes his hurdles

When the truth becomes a lie

When concern becomes apathy

When the straw is stacked too high

When the miner hits a low

When the climber is mountain high

When your sun has finally set

When your hope approaches fade

When you’re yearning for a shift and you start to seek a way

That is precisely when you know

This is the very time to go

Time is the teller of all truth-

It is the essence.

It is the root.

Time dictates all change

Wait on time-

For life, explained.

Top 8 Mistakes Single Chicks Make

So, after a pondering session about single-womanhood (yes, another one)  I felt compelled to share what I have learned about men- more so, how single women fuck up when it comes to them.

I compiled this list based on my own stupid mistakes, Steve Harvey’s impeccable advice, observing some of my ‘thirsty’ homegirls that have repeatedly played themselves (mad hard), rap music, & my homeboys who sometimes forget that I am actually a woman and share TMI. And yes, I definitely capitalize on it (shout-out to Ofi).

So, let’s get started:

1.  You’re Giving up the Ass (too soon)

‘Sistas' give up the ass. Bitches give up the ass. Sistas' do it slow- Bitches do it fast.'
-Jay-Z

Now, you should know better. If you really like a guy, this is the one biggest mistake you can make too early on. I have multiple girlfriends that have done this dumb shit (on several occasions) and guess what? They’re still single. This is just reckless on multiple levels. And although it may feel good- if you want to  progress, then you simply cannot do this.

Think about it: why would a man want to make you his girl if you gave it up without even knowing his birthday? Of course he won't assume that he is 'different'- he will think that you easily give up the goods, on a normal basis (even if you don't). Us women are all guilty of mentally ‘jumping the gun’ when we meet a good ‘candidate’- but we must control our urges.

And let me tell you something else: ALL MEN WILL TRY. Even good guys. Even church-boys. Hell, even gay-dudes. Seriously! It is in their nature. All men will try to have sex with you, as early and as easily as YOU make it possible. Which brings me to my next point-

You can’t make it easy.

Girl, you are trippin'

Look at yourself as a prize. If you award someone the gold-medal only 30 seconds into the race, they don’t really have to work for it. And guess what- they’ll stop running. Why run if you got the medal? Vagina is literally (and sadly) the prize. Ladies- you gotta’ make him earn it. Jay-Z said it best. Be a self-respecting sister. Make that man take you out and prove that he’s ‘in it to win it’ before you go pulling down your panties.

2.       You’re THIRSTY.

This shit right here will never get you a husband. I can’t tell you how many of my close guy friends (and I have several) have said:

‘She was cool..but shorty was just moving too fast..saying she ready to get married and have kids..I ain’t ready for all of that..’

First of all, why are you bringing up kids if he’s not even your man yet? Why are you so thirsty? Girl, did you even meet his Mom? If not, what would possess you to think that he even wants you to be his ‘wifey’ (let alone his wife)?

Please. Drink this and keep your dignity intact. 

Of course, we all have our ‘eggs’ to worry about. Yes, I know. I have them too. But, come on- the key to scaring a nigga off is to enforce this conversation too early on in the courting phase. Just chill the fuck out. Have met his mom (at least) before you even think that you can bring up your future with him. So give it time before you start looking at Modern Bride magazine and Theknot.com. You might get dumped next week for all you know.

3.       You Ignore the Obvious

' I haven't spoken to him in a week. He been so busy.'

Oh gosh. Some chicks literally have no dignity. They will hound a nigga down, looking at green-glimmers of non-existent hope, as opposed to looking to what’s real: his actions.  Observe the following:

Clues that a man IS digging you:

1.       He calls you

2.       He takes you on dates

3.       He is consistent (with the calls, texts, communication, dates)

4.       He isn’t bbming when you ARE on a date

5.       He makes time for you even when he is busy

Clues that a man is NOT digging you:

1.       He doesn’t call you

2.       He doesn’t take you on dates

3.       He is inconsistent

4.       He bbms on the rare occasions when you DO see his punk-ass

5.       He is ALWAYS ‘too busy’

Honestly, if Barack can make time for Michelle, then any man on God's green Earth should be able to make time for you. 

If you decide to overlook these clues, then, I guess you are just plain stupid.Men will do the things on list 1- and if he does things from list 2, then you need to follow Jennifer Williams’ advice and ‘keep it moving.’

Yes, YOU. Keep it movin'

4.       You Have No Standards

‘Don’t make someone a priority that makes you an option.’

If you don’t know your worth, then nobody else will. Especially a man. Lack of self-esteem will lead you to the acceptance of no-good, broke-ass, two-timing loser’s bullshit. Lack of self-esteem will have you meeting dudes at 2am because he’s always ‘busy.’ Lack of self-esteem will have YOU paying for dinner. No self-esteem will have you dating a married man. Uh-uh. This is a reflection of LOW-STANDARDS. 

This shit is totally unacceptable. When you have no standards in place, then you have no filter. And, with no filter, you will have a polluted population of bullshit men clouding your space. So set your bar higher, boo-boo. If he cannot pay for the meal, doesn’t call you, can’t keep a stable job, doesn’t speak to you appropriately, curses at his mom, sells dope off the iPhone, has (mad)  kids, has a girlfriend, has a boyfriend , then PAUSE. Literally.

You will get choked out in just about any country for messing with another woman's husband.

You have a choice: accept bullshit or accept real shit. Get a dude that is on your level and/or higher –or  else, be prepared to take off your earrings to fight his baby’s mother.

5.       You’re Frontin’

‘You should stop frontin’- Pharrell Williams

So obviously, not all things that us women have are ‘real.’ (I can certainly attest to this) We do shit to enhance our beauty; appear more attractive- weave, make-up, fake boobs, girdles, false lashes, you get the point. Cool. This is all perfectly normal.

BUT- you should never pretend to be someone that you’re not. The same way that a chick can see through a fake-ass dude, a real ass dude can see through a fake-ass chick. Feel me? Granted, there is a time and place for everything. However, when you meet a man, make sure that you are being yourself. We far too often ‘curb’ who we really are and compromise our preferences, to please a man. If he can’t accept your heavy accent, your dislike of cigarette smoke, your loud obnoxious laugh, your cursing, your temper-tantrums, your taste in music then guess what? He’s probably not for you. Get a man who is willing to handle you so you can stop pretending to be ‘her.’ Be who you are and be proud of it. 

I mean, how long are you going to ‘act’ like you’re someone else? – you are not Halle Berry.

Only one me- sorry.

6.       You’re Too Damn ‘Nice’

‘I don’t want it if it’s that easy’- Tupac Shakur

Men need a challenge. Men need a challenge. Men need a challenge. Men need a challenge. You get the point. If you’re over accommodating then you’re not providing him with the difficulty that he needs. Men want to pursue. They need to feel like they 'won' you- kind of like a sport .  They are competitive by nature- so if you're too damn nice all the time then you become a bore. It may also seem like you’re a push-over and you lack back-bone- very unattractive.

You know what we do when a guy is ‘too nice.’ We run! He could be the best man in the universe- send you roses, call you daily, nightly, and says everything that you want to hear- gives you no resistance. And you will probably end up dodging his ass like raindrops.

So, don’t be too nice. Tell his ass “NO” sometimes. If you don’t want to go to a movie, say that shit!  If he was late and didn’t call, tell his ass not to let it happen again. If he turns you off when he’s too drunk, let him know. Guys respect honesty- and you can’t sugarcoat everything. If he can’t handle you keeping it real, then in the words of my favorite comedian, Martin Lawrence-

“Fuck em’ girl. Fuck em’!”

7.       You’re Still THIRSTY.

‘Shawty badder than a 3 year-old.’ –Lil’ Wayne

As you can tell from the duplication and re-iteration of my frustration with thirstation, as a single lady, your vibe must be of confidence- and a confident woman is not thirsty. Because she simply knows that she is ‘The Shit.’

Let’s be clear: a man wants a BAD BITCH. A bad-bitch doesn’t have to call a guy every single day. A bad-bitch knows how to fall-back and let the man call HER. A bad-bitch has a certain mentality. A bad-bitch knows her worth. A bad-bitch is not thirsty.

So, if you want to be a bad-bitch, you can’t show too much. Don’t give too much. Excessive texts, expression of interest, photos, phone-calls- all this shit will not make you more desirable. It actually REPELS men. Guys really hate thirsty bitches. So if you’re ‘trying too hard’ then you need to really check-yourself and fall back. This forces HIM to step to the plate.

So which one are you?

Do I look 'thirsty' to you?

8.       You Have Nothing to Offer.

‘Drop down and get your eagle on girl’- Nelly

Yup- drop down and get your eagle on if you’re living with your mom, you have a dead-end job, you club every weekend, you’re always trying to get tricked on, you’re solely concerned with your looks  and you have no goals - then, you are indeed a BIRD BITCH. When you talk, feathers will probably come out and all you are good for is laying eggs.

Any real woman will have ‘her own.’ A job, an education, money. The same things that women want a man to have (job, education, money) a man wants YOU to have. If you have nothing other than a vagina to offer then what makes you so special?

Independence is sexy. 


You are your own being- with a heart, a mind, interests, dreams, talent and a plan. A man wants a woman who has ambition or at least a plan and does something with herself.

A man only wants a bird for ONE thing. Figure it out.

You know how WE do..

Table for One.



Over green tea and sushi, he was steady on my mind.

I even order tiramisu -just to pass the fucking time.

I contemplate the glorious date that I would finally make him mine.

But I know he’s busy in New York- on his paper-chasing grind.

I continue sipping my tea- I hear extraneous table chatter.

Thinking how loose Americans can be-  control of a geriatric bladder.

I take another sip of tea- dismayed by the empty seat.

Imagining how it would be, if he were sitting across from me.

I’d probably be smiling- admiring his lips.

We’d share the dragon roll & discuss exotic cuisine tips.

The purity of his smile - to me is better than the food

Such a precense is enough to elevate my somber mood.

I reflect back on that day- just about two weeks ago-

A hot and early Sunday evening. Looking hot from head to toe.

Just a chance happening- a moment suspended in time.

When we crossed West 4th street- secretly I hoped he’d drop a line.

There was something in his eyes- pure as piano chimes-

Played by an 8 year-old- like a recital at Christmas time.

I take another sip of tea. Take a survey of what they see-

My crazy hair; an empty chair

The waiter is probably thinking

‘Why is she the only one sitting there?’

But I don’t care. Is what it is. Yes, I’m alone up in this bitch.

With more than hunger for tuna rolls-  a gaping gap within my soul-

I want to say his name with passion. I want him to make my knees shake.

I want to put this love on him like a seismic earthquake.

Want to hear his voice, daily. Love him hard. Love him heavy.

A lost feeling for four years. Ready to put aside old fears.

After just a couple conversations, the connection sparked elation.

He has my focused concentration- I even canceled another date.

Just the sound of his voice takes my mind to our potential fate.

And Father time will make me wait.

For our eyes never foresee. It could be a fraudulent feeling,

Like the nigga I wrote about last week.

Another pour of the green tea.

An elderly man is staring at me.

I just wonder if he wonders all of the same things about me.

Another glance at the empty chair. Again, I imagine the Prince was there.

And then a deep inhale of air

I request the check, adjust my neck,

 I peace up out of there.

Driving home- enjoying the breeze. Biscayne wind blowing the palm trees.

I blast Drake just to escape, the mental blank and space within.

I try my best not to sin- I thank the Lord for letting me breathe.

Almost home.

All alone.

Wondering what He has in store for

We.

The First Night.

'I should make a move, but I won't.' -Monica

I know you see me, because I see you. I know you’re digging me-
But I don’t need you to. While you were walking up- I was coming down-before I descend further- you quickly turn around. Mr. 400. Stops me for a sec. 'I think I’ve seen you before.' In a past life? Na, it was at the spot- but not the other night.

He said he likes my swag, in so many words. I like his disposition- polished, but not a herb. We step off of the steps- to a secluded space. He’s sizing up my thighs, and I observe his face. Gentle yet pensive eyes. Dark, thick hair. Clean-cut fade. A Ferragamo pair.

Intrigued he asks me more- about my career path- how do I earn a living? What really makes me laugh? We’re at the bar now- throwing a couple back. Compared to what he’s saying, this music's sounding wack.


Are you in a rush? No sir, I’m really not. So come and go with me- to the next spot. Feeling the conversation- we reach our destination. The music is kind of loud. Fragmented crowd. Don’t really like this place. He took me to my car- and then a change of pace.

Can we go and eat? No thanks, I’m not hungry.

It’s getting pretty late- but I enjoyed your company.

Monday night came. July fireworks. He met me downtown. Dinner and dessert. Overlooking the water- we share intimate laughter. I make him smile wide- he loves the friendly chatter.

A man unfolding slowly- in his own way.

I sense the guarded gate- I steadily knock it away.

Not too much into family- but I’m close with mine. He hasn’t seen his momma
- in a long time.

We walk along the water- fierce, warm breeze. We sit along the water- talking with gentle ease. A few moments of silence- the Bay is really quiet. Exchange of current thoughts- really light words.

Then we walk back- I stop him at the curb. Don’t open my door yet- stay here for a second. I open my arms-wide, and hug him for a minute. What was that for? He asks, a little dazed- but this is why people date- so you can learn my ways.

We speed off to Sobe.-a laid-back lounge. I heard the spot was fresh- and always going down.

Approach the bar first- he buys me a strong-drink. We post up on the side- I wonder how he thinks. We watch the people walk. We hear the people talk. And the guitarist plays- some rockish-reggae jams- from back in the day. Head towards the back- it’s like a bashment- dancehall grooves- Jamaican funk style. He grabs another drink- in this tight crowd.

We go to the corner- I stand as he sits. We get a little closer- he touches my waist and hips. The Vodka’s kicking in- the vibes are full of sin- onto the Capleton- feels like he's more than a friend.

We stay a little longer- our connection is feeling stronger- some close exchange of words- he kisses me on my cheek. First time in a while, I felt a little weak. We make our way out -through a tight crowd. The music’s still blazing- but he wants to head south.

Finally he brings me home- I let him come inside. Instant comfort there- he likes my apartment’s vibe. We watch Dave Chappelle- Rick James bitch- I compliment his watch- he gently strokes my wrists.

We chat a little more- he asks ‘why are you single?’ I explain why- he looks me in my eye- I prop my legs up; he starts to rub my thighs.

We talk a little more- laugh at Charlie Murphy- Its getting close to 4- but nobody's in a hurry.

He comes a little closer- before I could remiss- he pulls my face in- and he thieved a kiss. And if you saw his lips- you also wouldn’t resist. I had to back up, attempting to dismiss. Is it ok to kiss? I couldn’t even respond. I was breathless from this physical bond. I slightly hesitated- and then insinuated- the reception was initiated- and then I reciprocated.

Very late now, I had to kick him out. Date 1: accomplished.

He should take a bow.

Femmenace to Society

I never felt this way before.

As I sat in the airport, after an extended weekend with a male friend, responding to my Monday morning ‘hey girl, so how was it?!’ texts, I realized how happy I was to get away from him. I slept about 8 hours, yet - I felt exhausted. The weekend was enjoyable- yet- unfulfilling. Shallow, ephemeral pleasures: R. Kelly’s concert being the highlight. I had no real ‘connection’ to this young man. The chemistry wasn't as strong as I thought, we're both stubborn, and have differing belief systems. And although he was a gentleman, I received royal treatment, most expenses paid, and a fly Marc Jacobs watch- I sat in terminal T, still, unfulfilled. Not floating on cloud 9. Not replaying any part of the weekend. I was just ready to get back to Miami. Truth be told, I was ready to leave before I even arrived. It’s truly ridiculous how easily turned-off I can be. So capricious- sometimes I disgust myself. In this moment it was when I realized how ‘over’ the concept, notion and even act of dating, I really am. The level of indifference I now have regarding romance, has reached an all-time high. But of course, one doesn’t reach this emotionless, cold place overnight. This has been a progressive, downhill spiral. And who is to blame? Society? Men? The alcohol?


Hell if I know.

Most women dream of fulfilling their maternal, womanly destiny. You know- big dream wedding to the man she loves, a few kids, the ‘ring.’ The notion of perpetuity, a supporting husband, kids that love you, and a comfortable life. She may work, but her number one role is the Queen of the home. Several good friends have partaken in this realm of thinking & are benefitting greatly from it. I support them- fully- however, I have come to accept that it doesn’t happen with as much ease for all women. For some, it doesn’t happen at all.

I used to think that 27 was the ‘golden age’ which I would aim to be married. Here I am- 25- and am as single as an apple in a bucket of oranges. Somewhere along the lines, my priorities shifted. Fiercely independent and guarded, I now take more pleasure in the thought of running the marketing for a Global brand, learning Spanish, and traveling to the Middle East more than a stupid wedding dress or even meeting a good man. They come and they go- and being the serial dater that I am, this I know first-hand. So why should I value men, when they seemingly evaporate after about 2 dates (on average)? They’ve become as dispensable as toilet paper: one-use and its over. The more I look at myself, in my current state, the less I seem like a woman.

‘Act like a Lady, Think Like a Man.’ Not ‘Act like a Man, Be a Man.’

My emotions are distant. I realized how ‘detached’ I have become. Partially, I believe that this is a defense mechanism to avoid pain. When you’re heart is soft, it’s easier to break, I think. So, I only seek to get what a man is willing to give- and most of it is pretty shallow and materialistic. Conversation.. nice dinners.. weekend companionship.. head on occasion- and not much else. Nobody has sustained my interest to the point of true, ‘openness.’ Sadly.



But let me not seem so..’bitter.’ People say that it (love?) comes when you least expect it- and I definitely subscribe to this theory. So I guess the indifferent, accepting frame of mind will keep my self-esteem from plummeting and free me from feeling like a societal menace to womanhood.



Oh- and if the theory is true, I’ll probably be getting a man from it as well.



Let’s see what happens.