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Read my blog, listen to my shows, read my books...then you'll know me. Thanks.


Pending...In Transit.

I'm fine.
Not too much for words.
I know you need your dosage....but I'm enjoying it too much to share right now.

I am loving myself and doing what needs to be done to make me happy.

And I found another trigger too, that has to be worked out before the summer hits. This is easy to fix simply because, the trigger isn't that old. 9 years to be exact, not the 20 year old one that we conquered a couple of weeks ago. It's interesting how we get caught on things in the past...I feel like I have been stuck in a time warp for the last 9 years....

I'm about to do a time warp on these hoes.

Standby for ignition.


Ask Me And I Might Tell You...

I get it.

Most people don't. And I'm good with that. Last week, Thursday March 12, 2009 to be exact, I was at home, alone, in my bed, in the middle of the afternoon, with no car, no job and a depleted savings account. Fickle Internet service, and 3 anytime minutes courtesy of T-mobile. Needless to say I was a wreck. And on the eve of the return of Saturn (my 27th birthday) I found myself, with my windows, blinds, and door open, crying out to God.

You heard what the fuck I said!!! CRYING OUT TO GOD! Not because I didn't have anything or because I was broke. We've all heard the stories of people crying out to God...and I've always laughed at them, cause in my mind I'm like "Girl yeah right!"

Trust me, it's a true fact. If you're on the outside looking in you may think that I am on a desolate road to tragic oblivion - but I was crying out because I am thankful. I am so grateful and thankful for my life, for it is rich and abundant. I was crying out because I could have been dead. I was crying out because I have talent, THAT NO ONE CAN SNATCH FROM ME. I was crying out because I have peace of mind, I was crying out because I am the different one, I was crying out because I am responsible, I was crying out because God allowed me to come out the winner, to come out the victor, the unstoppable, unshakable force that could not be broken. I was crying because I am the real muthafuckin deal - and I was crying because I am comfortable with me.

Last summer, when I died, most of you didn't get what was really going on and since some of you asked, I will tell you all about it in my new book....

But this week a lot of shit has been going on. Family shit, the same recycled shit that keeps popping up. And as usual, since I am the only one with logical sense I was there to deal with it, do the right thing and move on. I'll talk about it on my show on Wednesday so make sure yall muthafucka's got yall headphones plugged in.

I'm well. I'm fine. I'm grateful. My life couldn't actually be any better.

It is imperative that we become responsible for own actions.
It is imperative that we admit.
It is imperative that we let go.
It is imperative that we learn how to shut the fuck up and not say shit.
It is imperative that we learn how to keep shit to our fuckin' selves.
It is imperative that we only handle our own responsibilities.
It is imperative to FOLLOW YOUR GUT INSTINCTS.
It is imperative to cut off things and people that drain us...
It is imperative that we recognize the cycle and not fall into that shit.
It is imperative that we get fresh air daily.
It is imperative to watch what we think and speak...they are already actions.
It is imperative to GIVE thinking and speaking POSITIVE, AFFIRMING thoughts.
It is imperative that we DON'T ALWAYS ANSWER THE PHONE.
It is imperative to make eye contact. For it always gives us the answers we need, not want.

Thank you to my daily inspirations. I appreciate you so very much and your existence in my life.
DuWayne, Amanda, Lalah, Rahsaan, Lynn.

Have a great weekend.
Ryan Leslie
Lalah Hathaway(Self Portrait)
Rahsaan Patterson (Love In Stereo in particular)
all have created phenomenal music, listen to it and free yourself.

We are too great to be caught up in this bullshit. recognize it and flush that shit...


I finally Let Go of his hand...

He is the person that WILL always be at the core.

But everything that lived within him is not who I am today.

He is determined, he is focused, he is smart, he is inspiring, he is fun, he is a wealth of information, he is attractive, he is talented, he is brilliant, he is intuitive, he knows what the fuck he talks about, he is independent, he is a giver, he is helpful, he is overly nice, he is overly emotional, he is balanced. He understands where he came from and where he is going...he always knew.

But he was also the kid that didn't have a voice, always let people dictate his decisions and always took to heart what people said, even when he knew that it wasn't the truth. He carried the weight of so much and so many. Harbored the pain of molestation. He harbored the pain of his father lost. He harbored the pain of his mothers anger, her misunderstanding of love. He allowed himself to become the victim. But he was always the victor.

I let his hand go. I've held on to it for way too long. I watched him walk away laughing and smiling, just as he did in 1988 listening to Karyn White...I kept the things that brought him happiness, for they still bring him happiness to this day.

But the emotional turmoil that was buried under all that he loved evaporated into the mist and the person that has been hiding behind that scared little 6 year old kid with all the potential in the world, that made people laugh, that looked at the world for what it was has finally become the person that he has always wanted to be.

It hurt. But the kid that I used to be, is finally free.


Friday Finale 03.13.09

Trent Celebrates his birthday in studio!

My 27th Brithday.

Is here...
my life is rich in so many ways.
i grapple with emotional distress...
that has made me the
fierce bitch i am today.

Happy Birthday to me.


I know you! You're Trent Jackson Part 1

So, I was feeling some kinda way last night and decided at the last minute that I wanted to go out and start my birthday celebration early. I called up a few people made last minute plans, put on my new come fuck me jeans, the classic come fuck me boots and hit it to West Hollywood.

In Los Angeles, the club that most black boys flock to is none other than Metro Wednesday's at Ultra Suede. A club promoted by a friend of mine, Ivan Daniel. It's no secret that I have a strong antipathy towards gay clubs. And who can blame me? Why would i put myself in positions to be continually irritated or let down at the caliber of people that I encounter? After hearing my stories about the people I've met and after you read my new book, you'll have a clear understanding on why I stay the fuck away. But when the mood hit's me, I have to follow my intuition and go with it.

I walked in and saw a few familiar, pleasant faces and a few pieces of sewer litter doing the same thing they were doing when they were trying to game me up and shake me down for the kill. No eye contact is necessary for people like that. If a muthafucka does it once, he'll do it twice and like Beyonce told us in 99, "I am not the one to sit around and be played."

10 minutes in, I found a spot. Ivan saw me and greeted me with a big hello, since it had been a minute since anyone has seen me. Then all of a sudden he took the stage and introduced Chrisette Michelle!!! I had no idea she was going to be there performing, and it's crazy because earlier that day I went hard on myself because I missed her last show here in L.A.

She is phenomenal. The truth. I will always support her. It's artists like her, Lalah and Rahsaan that get little to no recognition for their phenomenal gifts. Not only that, I had the opportunity to briefly chat it up with her. She's a humble girl and I enjoy her thoroughly.

After her brief 3 song set, I was more than feeling the effects of my 3.5 Patron Margaritas...
I tipped off to the bathroom only to discover there was a line! I mean, the last time I checked I didn't have a vagina and I don't cross dress. So again, why was there a line in the mens room?

So I stood there for a second and blurted out, "Not a line." And the guy behind me started laughing and then he hit me with the hee...

"I know you." He said as he looked me dead in the eye and smiled.
"Do you really now?" I responded, wide-eyed, bushy-tailed and drunk.
"Yes! You're Trent Jackson! I listen to your shows and I've read your books, were friends on myspace." He said while laughing and smiling.
"What? Are we? What's your name?" I asked curiously.
"Insert Name here."
"Yes! I know you! You look different from your pictures! You're taller!!"
"Everyone says that."

He smiled. I gave him a hug and told him not to tell anyone he ran into me in the restroom.... be continued...


Witty Wednesday 3.11.09

"The Prequel" Trent shows up refreshed talking a whole bunch of trash, his drug addiction, his birthday plans, whores, dating and the other usual banter.


Trigger Cease Fire

Can I just say that my new life starts today?

It really truly does. In spite of everything, I am so very glad to be back in my skin, back to myself and looking at the person that I'm use to seeing. I haven't seen him since early 2007.

Yesterday I got re-connected with a few people that you know...not that we've been disconnected, somewhere in between life, we just kinda...pressed pause. And it felt good to talk to them briefly, just to catch up. We've become so accustomed to "MySpacing" and "Facebooking" everyone, you kinda forget that we are human. And we have emotions. We have feelings. We have sensors. These things need to be fed and the only real way to feed them is by using our senses, with other people.

Last night I had a clarity moment. I was talking to my best-friend on the phone and we were going over the details of my birthday party this weekend, since we had to scrap the other idea that I was toying with for the last 5 months, simply because a friend of mine stopped returning my phone calls, hmph...I usually get irritated around my birthday (another trigger that I identified) simply because people always find someway to sabotage my day. For instance, when I was 6, my first birthday party of massiveness, I thought because it was my birthday, I was supposed to win pin the tail on the donkey. I didn't. My mother spanked me in front of everyone at my party, drug me through the grass into the house and yelled at me profusely until my Grandmother (bless her gentle heart) intervened. Then, my mother gave me two hot dogs and told me to feel better. Hmph...look what kind of a mess she started. Eating to make myself feel better. It took me 19 years to get that problem under wraps.

So I was telling my B.F.F. that I usually drink excessively (every weekend) after my birthday, because it's always around this time I get really social and interactive always partying and out enjoying the weather. But the downside to all of that is the summer. It all comes crashing down in the summer. And we all remember what happened last summer.

Then it hit me. I told her I had to call her back and I immediately connected the dots. I went searching for a piece of paper just to double check my own notes.

It was June 23, 1988. I was 6 years old. And I attended my fathers funeral in South Bend, Indiana. A day that has caused me so much pain throughout my life, but at 6 years old you never think and you never know that you carry those things with you until you realize what's going on.

June 23, 2000. I was 18 years old. I graduated from Crenshaw High School, in Los Angeles, California. A day that caused me tremendous pain most of my adult life. No one on my mothers side of the family showed up to the graduation. I was alone. It was a day that I never forgot or will never forget - the emptiness, the abandonment and the hurt was so deep, I vowed to never share anything significant with anyone in my family ever again. And I did that. I could not risk being so hurt when it was supposed to be one of the happiest days in my life. I always told myself that when I graduate college, it would be my day - and I wouldn't tell anyone. I kept my word.

My point to all of this - subconsciously, I've always allowed those two events to affect my mental happiness every year since 1988. I've always wondered why I never fully enjoyed summer. Everyone was always out having fun, having flings, going to parties and living life. I was always at home, in the house and gaining weight, depressed, loosing my mind, stuck on weed, wellbutrin and food.


Now that I've identified this trigger...I can live my life, without being suicidal, eating everything in plain view, and smoking my life away...

It really is up to YOU to want to be happy. Yes things happen. People die. You get hurt. You experience pain, but you have to really want happiness. Just like I wanted to get high, just like I wanted to eat and trick myself into thinking that I wasn't shit and no one cared about me and I was better off dead. It is really up to you to define your own destiny, live your life without distractions.

A lesson that I didn't learn overnight. But came at the right moment.

It wasn't easy getting here. But I wouldn't change a thing that has happened. All of these things made me who I am.


The Weeks End...

What started out as a midnight post last night to detail a few things that have been going on in my life, was cut short by a phone call from Kyle. Which was astonishing in itself. He finally put an end to the text message, instant message battle that we’ve been having for that last 90 days. In a sense, I gave in to the non-sense. As most of you know that I have a strong antipathy towards any forms of technological communication, including this new phenomenon of Twitter (in which I will never visit the website or get sucked in) MySpace and Facebook. But I say all of that to say, that Kyle either got tired of typing or trying to figure me out. So I believe, in a sense, he wanted to revisit the magic of the night that we first met.

I was sitting here thinking to myself, when is the last time I actually wrote something on my blog - that was personal, honest, from the heart and somewhat nostalgic of the things I used to write here. But then that got me to thinking, when was the last time I was honest with myself?

But what a fuckin' week man! If it were any other day I would be responding to emails from listeners, commenting on my radio show and flying high as a kite, but considering my week I'm glad I'm on hiatus and detox worked this time...and seemingly when I'm the most stressed, I used no quasi-aid to help me get through it. That says something to me. I'm stronger than I thought, more focused and determined than I thought I could ever be. And with self-control, I can win. What was I thinking about, the last two years of my life? High and out of control.

In the midst of Shelton dying, my aunt dying, my other uncle in the hospital - I've been fighting a lot of other things, primarily my own demons, that have always been there, breaking the chain of my parents and family and learning how to become independent and love me for the person that I used to be, the person that I am, and the man that I am becoming. I can finally take a look back and not have any regrets for what has happened. I've accepted my responsibility and taking things one step and one day at a time (swear to you I've never been to a 12 step program...)

I've done some fucked off shit. I've acted out of insecurity and I've allowed myself to be influenced and turn into a person I didn't even know. I'm glad that I am finally able to look in the mirror and see the person that I know, the inner child that still exists, the boy I used to be, but the man I am. The guy that Kyle likes and is intrigued by.

So when I answered at 12:50 a.m. I giggled to myself. I still don’t understand why people call at that hour, especially since they aren’t classified to call at that time or at all for that matter. He knew that I was awake, working, and thinking – but he had a trick up his sleeve, including the fact he failed to tell me he was a Libra.

Nostalgic. Funny how time flies when you’re having fun, on a soft-core level, played in the background. The heat blasted on a low mist and the lights pitch black. It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation that late…it just reminded me that I’m an analog 90’s boy in a high sped digital world where personalities no longer exist and keyboards do all of our talking. It sucks, especially when you remember what the world was like before cell phones and the internet took over.

I've learned a lot over the past 6 months. Silently. Which makes the lesson more clear. My car, that I had less than a year, got repossessed last month. I lost my job. I lost a lot of money in the stock market over the past few months. I've been stripped of all the things I thought had meaning. But the entire time I was proud, boastful, egotistical - and lost myself in the mix.

God has an amazing way of humbling you and reminding you that you're just like everyone else. I'm not better than anyone...and I can say that if you don't appreciate the things and the people that God placed in your life to enhance you, he will most certainly, always on cue bring that ass back down to earth.

I’m feeling in between, but leaning towards the light. My intuition is telling me that my transformation is complete and better days are ahead. Understanding why my cousin is the way he is and hopes that he changes for the better, because I am like the Government, I can’t offer him any more bailouts. Taking a step back to watch my sister transform into a pseudo-defiant, determined, self-assured young lady at 6, already realized that neither one of her parents ain’t shit, I laugh in pain, sorrow and joy all at once. Praying that the man who has given so much of himself to make sure that I become the person that I am supposed to be, comes back safely like I know he will.

A week before my 27th birthday and I see everything clear. I know who I am. I know where I am going, and even though I wanted to be alone in my room with a 10 piece from wing stop, a bottle of Moet and a Lemon-Strawberry-Cream cheese birthday cake, it doesn’t look like that is going to happen that way…lol. My cosmic favors are up and too many people are rooting for my success and happiness as much as I am to ever let me be alone basking in drunk, insecure bitterness as I listen to the music that makes me happy and reminiscing on good times past.

Things are never what they seem and we have to go through the dark to see the light. Don’t we go to bed and wake up every morning?


Remembering Shelton Jackson

It was four years ago. A brisk night in Los Angeles served as the backdrop for me, a then headstrong 22 year old promoting my first novel “At This Moment,” at an event at Jewel’s Catch One nightclub.

I thought he was cute. He was mildly obnoxious, drunk – but very warm, friendly and we instantly connected. He was a writer, I was a writer. He was outspoken, I was outspoken. We shared our work; we shared our stories of struggle both personally and professionally. We had an understanding and the bond of being a black gay man in America held us together.

Shelton S. Jackson became a friend of mine that night. Even though we lived on different sides of the country we kept in touch as best as we could. We always sent each other motivating messages and consistently gave each other support to keep going in our creative efforts in the Black SGL community in which we serve.

Shelton had been ill over the last couple of months – and I was saddened to hear that he passed away this afternoon.

I will always hold our conversations and hangouts to heart! I will forever keep his memory alive…

Shelton lives! He made his mark on the world - his life is forever infinite. Through his work, he used his life as an example that you can make it and live your dreams no matter what happens.
Shelton S. Jackson
2.4.78 - 3.2.09