Off?

Have you ever felt like you are standing still while everyone else is speeding by at full speed; uncatchable? That's how I'm feeling right now. It's not necessarily a negative feeling it's just that I feel like I have to step my game up but how? Yes I wish that I would have made moves a long time ago, but it is what it is. I wish that I had more for my family but again, it is what it is. But I look at this moment right now and I wouldn't want to change it for nothing in the world. Mentally I'm satisfied but not too comfortable to handle my business and make things happen. I'll get it together. Peace and Love.

Over

I luv this cat. Even though he does look like my baby daddy, I can't get mad at his hustle. I'm glad that even though the President is locked up for a minute Young Money still handlin' they business.

Somethin' for the fellas.

I was re-reading my lil' story I did a minute ago, LOL Ssshh! Be quiet!? Remember that? Go ahead and scroll down to the story and take your cold shower before coming back to this post. LOL. Anywho, I realized that the story was geared more toward the ladies and I don't wanna leave my sexy fellas out so I promise within the next few days I will have something laced for you too. It might be too hot for tv, internet, whateva.

Can I get a moment of silence.....

I know that I'm suppose to just talk about writing, how to come up in the industry, and all of that wonderful stuff. But I wanted to pause the game for a minute because I've not looked on the internet for 24 hours and apparently within that time span some serious 9 levels of hot mess has happened in the entertainment world. My absolutely favorite site Necolebitchie.com posted 3 things that I thought needed to be recognized considering that I am a female I thought I should speak on it quickly and then keep it movin'.

First story I thought was a damn mess is the story on the Basketball wives or whateva the hell they are suppose to be! Now I don't know these women personally but just looking at the trailer made me mad as hell! I live in the hood and see fights like that all the time, can I get a show because I act like a ignant heifa?! Is this how we black women have resorted to? I'm tired of seeing what car you drive, or clothes you rock, or who you screwin' to get up in this show?! Damn I sound like I'm hatin' uh? Shit it is what it is.

This story is not that bad but in a way it is. When I get married, I'm rockin' the ring my husband gives me and I expect the same thing with him. Don't think that we are about to get married and you still walking around here with a ringless finger? You have lost your damn mind! It's not about the ring but I'll be damn if I have you runnin' around here free as a bird! What did Mary J say, "You can try to act single if you want to...." sidewink.

Last story of foolery. Can somebody tell that lil' hooker from Cheetah girls to sit down or somethin'. Black women, listen and listen good, don't sell yourself short and try to be somethin' that you are not. I don't know if this girl is even legal but her single is talkin' about gettin' drunk and having unprotected sex with some random dude from a club?! Do STDs not ring a bell? AIDS? Pregnancy? Where is her mama?!

That's all I needed to say. I feel better now. LOL.

:(

Had some disturbing news. I didn't get the book deal that I wanted but that's ok. I just need to grind harder and figure out what I can do to get myself out there and make what I already know how to do betta, know what I'm sayin'. I'll get it together.

Will you.....

I watch the many faces of my sistahs.
The look of pain, betrayel, abandonment;
all of that tattooed permanently
on their faces but not by choice.

I watch the attitudes of my sistahs.
This is their armor, their skin.
Fuck putting on foundation,
attitude is their makeup
but not by choice.

I watch the swagga of my sistahs.
You can't buy that shit from Walmart
or Abercrombie & Fitch!

Their curves sway rhythmically to their own music.
And yet you still do not notice,
is this your choice?
To leave us to raise your children
while you parade the 'prize' around the hood
where we once greased and braided your hair,
where we played hide go get it,
smoked a blunt and drunk our red kool-aid
out of the pickle jars until the street lights came on?

Are you that disconnected with yourselves?
Afraid of looking at us directly in the face
because you will only and always see the
reflections of yourself?

They are not band-aids that will cover up
the burden of carrying the world on your shoulders.
Only we can lighten that load.
Only we can help lift you, love you, relate to you,
and help fulfill your destiny of being the Kings you
all are suppose to be!

Sit down with us and chop it up a lil'.
Reconnect with us, love us!
Will you make that your choice?

Everyday I'm hustlin'

I put this put because I want people to know that this is what it is! Period! You hungry about something, you passionate about something, go get it! I made the mistake of falling into that category of being comfortable with life and doing shit cause someone else told me to do it or because I'm a single mama and I have to do whateva to take care of my kids. Now don't get it twisted, my kids are well taken care of, can I do better? Of course! That's what drives me to do what I'm doing now! I'm blessed. A lot of people will walk around like zombies for the rest of their lives and not know their God given talent, I'm not that person. I'm not comfortable with this robot shit either! I gotta get! I will take risks! In the words of Jay-Z, I WILL NOT LOSE!

Feelin' some type of way................

Ok, so I've been a little bit upset for a minute and yesterday I think I reached my lil' breaking point. I luv my people, I really do. Thing is I've had this blog site for almost a year now and have I gotten one comment, one? Hell no! People tell me on the regular how my writing is good blah, blah, blah, blah, but not nam one of yall are commenting on my website. It's not like you don't see the URL cause I put it on my email signature, facebook probably tired of me posting it so many times, like who the hell does she think she is? I tell people in person, nothing! So that right there is telling me that I must suck to you guys and you're playin' fake in my face which I definitely don't like. When I put some raunchy shit on my facebook I get comments all day but when I ask for a little support, just a little, I'm not about to kiss any azz or nothing don't get it twisted, but damn, fa real? Is this how my people gone treat a bish?! I need that support from my people. This is my hustle, this is what I luv to do, I'm hungry right now! It may not be the traditional way of gettin' money, but it makes me happy. Whateva....................!

Sex, sex, sex! Oh and Lil' Wayne! What a wonderful combination!

THE MAKING OF "DROP THE WORLD" LIL WAYNE FT EMINEM from DERICK G on Vimeo.

Gotta luv sex! Ssshh! Be quiet! (part 3-finale)

“That’s beautiful,” she heard herself say.

He turned around; his brown eyes alert, open, as though realizing for the first time that he had an audience. He stood over her admiring her butterscotch skin. His strong painted hands outlined the contour of her face. Trish felt the wet paint smear on her skin. She leaned her body forward so he could reach her better. She allowed him to guide her face in both of his hands up until she was on her knees; the whole time both were maintaining eye contact. Her hands accidentally went into a puddle of blood red and brown paint. The cool liquid extinguished some of the hotness radiating off of her body but not all of the way. She wrapped her hands around his waist lifting up his wife-beater. The smell of musk and paint filled her nose as she pressed her face into his six-pack. A low growl slipped out of his mouth when Trish washed his stomach with her tongue. Her lips were so soft to him. She managed to untie the strings to his pants with her teeth. They fell right down to his ankles. Trish was pleased with what she saw in front of her. Inside of his boxer briefs his manhood snaked down the side of his leg. Her mouth began to water.

Before she could open her gift, he took a hold of her shoulder length hair and tugged her head backwards. Her bottom lip poked itself out slightly and mischief clouded her eyes. “Not yet,” he demanded. He liked to be in control. This time he got on his knees right along with her and kissed her exposed shoulder. His hand slipped under her silk shirt and gently pinched her rock hard mounds. She dug her face into his dreads to cover her moaning. He felt her whole body vibrate. The flimsy material of her top slipped off easily. Now it was his turn to smile at the work of art before him. “You are absolutely beautiful,” he whispered before taking one of her breasts into his mouth. Trish did not have time to control herself; a loud unfamiliar sound came from her mouth. The thickness of his dreads could no longer hold her screams. Back and forth he gave her breasts attention until he about burst in his briefs.

He peeled her skinny jeans off of her. Her juices blended in with the paints that she was swimming in. He continued to taste test her whole body, not leaving one part untouched by his tongue; all the while kneading his fingers into her skin giving her the massage her body needed. He tenderly kissed her inner thighs sending her legs shaking even before he kissed her sweet jewels.

“Oh my God!” she gasped. Trish looked down toward him; his handprints were literally all over her body. In between a few strands of dreads she could see him eyeing every move she made. She begged him to stop; she was afraid to let go; afraid of what her body would do. Within seconds a powerful wave of pleasure shook her whole body into convulsions. The whole room spun; all of the different shades of colors blended in with each other. She felt as if she was having an out of body experience. This continued for what felt like an eternity. When she regained her strength, she managed to push him onto the floor and straddled him.

“Your turn.” Trish stripped his briefs off in one quick swift move. His chocolate manhood stood at attention, ready for her to explore. She said a little prayer before sliding down the thick pole; never has she had anything this massive before. But she happily accepted the challenge. Her walls wrapped tightly around him like a glove. She spread his chest with paint as she slowly rode him. His face showed pleasure.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “I want you to see me cum.” Everything in the room disappeared. She was not embarrassed anymore nor was she afraid. She had never had this kind of a connection with a man in her life; she made it her mission to please him. She craved it. Both of their bodies intertwined with each other creating a beautiful art sculpture like an original Mona Lisa painting. He grabbed a hold of her thick thighs and the rode into pure ecstasy together.

Trish lay on his chest, both trying to catch their breaths. Reality struck her. She didn’t even know this man, who was he and what was he doing in the library after closing hours? As if reading her mind he wrapped his muscular arms around her petite waist and kissed her forehead. She laid there listening to his heart beat until hers became one with his. Who gave a damn, she told herself.




Three weeks later…

Trish had not been to the library ever since her little secret rendezvous, but today she decided to come back with a group of her girlfriends to check out the art exhibit that they were hosting. The theme, depictions of black women. As she walked through the exhibit, paintings of all sorts of African-American women in different poses embraced the canvases. She took her time eyeing each piece. She could not help but look at the eyes of the women. They seemed very familiar, but she kept on looking like everyone else. The longer she walked around the more she notice strangers eyeing her. At first she brushed it off but eventually found out the reason for the stares. At the opposite end of where she stood was the largest canvas of all. She gasped as she stared up at her reflection. Every detail of her body from her face, the curve of her thick thighs and the ample roundness of her behind were looking back at her. Her eyes on the painting popped out exposing a part of her that she had been trying to hide for years as a result of all of the bad relationships she has experienced, but the way it was depicted in this painting made her rethink to reconnect with that side of her that needed to be unleashed. The memory of that day came up front and center and she smiled. Fifteen minutes later she walked out of that exhibit with the same smile concealing a secret that no one else can know about.