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


The Rambles: Pop Life 2.8, Music, Mental Mayhem & Molestation

Before I was a compulsive marijuana abuser, which was before I was compulsive over-eater, I was a music junky. And it worked and still does to this day.  I remember that I was playing the 2.0 Y.O CD heavy when I was prepping for my last book tour. Because my hard drive mysteriously broke during my first trimester on the east coast, in a sense I've been lost. Music plays an integral part in my mental well being. When I'm numb, I can put on a song that speaks to my exact emotion and I'm restored. That artist is letting me know that they've been where I am and they can relate to my exact moment in time. Janet Jackson, Lalah Hathaway and Rahsaan Patterson consistently play captain save-a-ho in my life. Lately Mariah Carey and Anita Baker have been giving me what I need. But the CD's that I play the most is Monica, "Still Standing" and Whitney Houston "I look to you."

For the past few weeks I've been attempting to figure out what my new book, "Pop Life" is about. I never know what my books are about, because I don't usually read them after they are complete. There are a few reasons for that. When I'm creating a book, it's like a bulimic purging. When I'm writing I'm usually ridding myself of certain emotions that I can no longer harbor in my body, more so my mind. And what really dawned on me today is how much of my work is my life; however I didn't see how much was involved per se. In English - I thought I found a way to detach myself from my characters, but in a lot of ways a lot of them or me. Wait, why are we talking about this? Oh - right. I figured out what my book was about today. Yesterday I spent 16 hours in a coffee shop attempting to do just that.

I met this guy in there yesterday. Actually he stood out the most because he's very mysterious. He's Muslim and also East Indian. No one knows this, but I'm extremely shy. Like, I almost have a phobia of going into social settings, which is the reason why I used to show up to places high. But I'm getting better at it.

There wasn't a plug for my laptop, so I had to ask him to plug me in at the power strip at the end of the table. I had seen him earlier that day, probably when he got there at 4 that afternoon. I was on hour 7 at that point.  He stood out because he was neatly dressed. Khakis, tucked in button down with a brown belt. He wore glasses and he wasn't a usual person that I'd speak with and as the conversation progressed I wasn't one that he would usually speak with either. lol...

But he ended up saying to me, "Saturday isn't really a productive day. Sunday is. You'll know on Sunday." And I found out on Sunday. What do you know? I said the other day I was speaking with my attorney and I said, "You know people just don't use that line, 'We met at a party" to explain how they met someone. Everyone's on some "We met on twitter, we met on facebook," I wanna be the nigga that says, "We met at a party!"

Earlier this year I set a private (now public) goal for myself to meet 10 people at a party and befriend them. I was just saying to myself that I want to expand my social network, meet a variety of people that we have grown things in common with. I want to meet people with more depth, with more conversation, with classic values that stand in the crazy world we live in. I've met 3 people in public settings this year. By the end of the night of me meeting them it was a party. So I'll count it.

A few days ago, I told someone "You don't even see what you're getting ready to do." I think I should start taking my own advice.

Most of my books are never about what's on the surface. But what's underneath. 

In "In Pop Life," I examine the lives of 5 black gay men. Kyle DeVoe, Bryan Alexander, Simeon Shanks, Omar Julian and Shaheed Smith.They are all on the road to stardom in their own rite, but something is preventing them, their friendships, careers and relationships to flourish. It's the fact that they were all molested as children.

When I first began writing the book - I didn't start out saying I was going to write about sexual abuse. But the deeper into the mind of the characters I created, they all had that one recurring theme and I didn't notice that until one of characters actually encounters his offender.

Sexual abuse is one of the things that blacks in general just don't talk about, but it exists. Because we don't talk about it and the affects that it has throughout life, a lot of people never get the most out of life because we never learn how to deal with it.

Writing this book actually allowed me to face my own abuse, which is something that I thought that I had dealt with - that was far from the case. Looking back, it explains a lot.

But this needs to be said...out loud at least.


In A Perfect World

In a perfect world, we'd all get it right the first time. But we never do.

In a perfect world you would have appreciated my friendship when I felt like understanding you more than I should have, when I felt like giving my all and got nothing in return.

In a perfect world you wouldn't have broken the line of loyalty and lied to me about something that you knew was important to me.

In a perfect world you would have appreciated the part I played and all I did when I was there. Now that I'm not, your struggle is 20x harder.

I always take a look at myself.  In my opinion not enough. I know my story better than anyone watching it, although they understand it, they will never feel my revolving pain and the voids that can never be filled.

I'm tired of giving.

People always need me to do this, help them with that. I don't ask for much. A phone call would be nice. Someone to ask me how I'm doing, a message or the statement of acknowledgement would do just fine. But I always find myself feeling betrayed and upset. Used and violated.

I raised their daughter for 8 years. Lost jobs behind making sure she was dressed, homework was done, lunch was packed and she was mentally and emotionally ready for school. What did I get in return? Verbal abuse, countless court dates and my spirit being broken. I'm good.

We were friends for 10 years. Our birthdays are a day apart - then you planned your birthday party on the same date and time as mine...when you didn't even have plans. Now you get mad when I'm short with you on the phone. What can I say?

You can call on me when you need something written, because my talent is exquisitely superb. But you tell my business, talk about me behind my back and give underhanded comments the first chance you get. An opportunist in the first, let me help you better than I ever can...

You sit in silence and watch my every move, so you can jock my style and pass it off as yours. You tell me how miserable and how much of a fake hypocrite I am, when those are the words that describe you perfectly. You put all of your real friends on the back burner to appease those who enable you, but quick to come to me when you have nothing left after feeding them. She said it best when she sang that lyric, "Always remember my friend, the world will change again. And you may have to come back from everywhere you've been."

I'm not perfect. But my good qualities damn sure outweigh my bad ones by light years and if they didn't you wouldn't be so reliant on me to make you look good.

I won't even ask the rhetorical question of who's gonna lookout for me...that question has been answered time and time again. I know who's for me and I know for sure you're against me.

I'm sorry. Even though I want to believe that you wont hurt me and you have the best intentions, I can't let you in, because I'm too wounded to fight off another attack. Here is my olive branch and the white flag before we even begin again.

All I need is my records, my favorite shoes....and my CLK. I'll be fine.


Focus On The Good and LEARN from the bad.

You know, I'm starting to finally realize (accept) that everyone doesn't have your best interest and some people are mad at where you are in life, because of the warped choices they made for whatever reason. It's never to late to become the person that you've always wanted to become. Realizing when to do it is the tricky part.

Life is all about the choices that you make. I haven't always made the best or the smartest decisions, but I've definitely have learned the hard way by not listening to my intuition or "gut" feeling. But I know one thing for sure, moving to the east coast has been one of the best decisions that I've made in my life thus far. I have finally rediscovered myself and it feels damn fuckin' good.

As I was speaking on the phone with my uncle, I was just telling him that I'm very thankful and grateful that I have a job, because I remember what it was like when I was broke - and struggled. Couldn't do shit, I was angry. But now, I'm blessed with a job that I can go to everyday and just be myself. For once, I've finally got a position that fits me perfectly, a job in which I can utilize all the skills that I've attained along the way. A job that gives me responsibility and enough decision making power that keeps my brain sharp. I was hired for my merits. Believe it or not, I've never shared this, but I've had plenty of jobs! Ask any of my L.A. friends. I was always getting fired or quitting a job. I've never told anyone, how one of my female bosses told me, "The only reason why I hired you is because I wanted to fuck you." That's just one instance - and not even the tip of the iceberg.

The current position I'm in now, I applied for it back in March. To date, it's been one of the best interviews I've ever been on in my life. I didn't get the position right away and when I walked out of the interview, I knew that I didn't get the job. I didn't yield to defeat, because I knew that it was a damn good interview and I had left an impression. One day, I was sitting at my desk at my last job - and I prayed, long and hard...(pun intended) and I talked to God. And when you speak to him, just talk to him like you would one of your good friends and the key is to be specific - tell him exactly what you want. One thing is for sure, I wanted out of that job, it was starting to hinder me.

About a week after my prayer, I got a call from the H.R. department of my job. The representative informed me that there was a position open and was I still looking for a job. I immediately replied yes and i knew it right when I got the call, that it was time and God heard my prayer. When I inquired more about the position she informed me that it was the same job I had applied for back in March and that the last person they picked didn't work out and that my new boss, requested me specifically. She went on to tell me that he wanted me to start right away, so quick that I didn't have time to give a two week notice to my previous job. This was on Wednesday, he wanted me to start Monday. Tell me God isn't phenomenal!

During my initial panel interview (I was interviewed by 5 people at once) there was this one person that I knew didn't like me. His body language said it and he kept giving me difficult questions and scenarios that he knew that I wasn't going to answer. WRONG. I have superb oratory skills and my light shines as bright as the sun, everyone in the room recognized it. He was just being a hater, like he was today when he emailed my boss and told him I didn't clock out, which is a grade A, first offence at my job, just like most jobs. But because my job is sensitive in nature they take the shit a little more serious.

This asshole has nothing better to do than to find the smallest things and magnify them. I fixed his ass. I'm the timekeeper at my job and when there was no one in the position, he kept the time by default. For some strange reason, he keeps attempting to keep tabs on the clock and do my job for me as if I'm incapable of performing the operation. Number one, I'm not going to argue with him or start shit. If he wants to take on more responsibility and do my job for me, cool, it's one less thing I have to worry about. But if you're watching and waiting for me to slip up, just so you can catch me up, it'll never happen. Needless to say I forgot to clock out last night, by the time I got into work this morning he had already emailed my boss snitching like a bitch, my boss forwarded me the email...So after I clocked in and read the chain letter, I put an end to it. I clocked out at 8:09 and adjusted my clock out time to 4:30 p.m. My boss came to me at 3 and said "I see you clocked out for the day" and winked at me. FUCK A HATER EVERY TIME. IF A BITCH IS FUCKING WITH YOU, IT'S OKAY TO PLAY THEIR GAME BACK, SHUT THEM DOWN AND WIN, YOU NEED NO PERMISSION TO STAND UP FOR YOURSELF! AND YOU NEVER HAVE TO BE DISRESPECTED OR BELITTLED BECAUSE OF SOMEONE ELSES ISSUE. Bet that's the last time he plays with me...for a while at least. I will never understand why people do silly ass shit like that. But I see them and I know who they are. Never come out of yourself because of someone else's insecurity or misery.

The bottom line is, when God opens a door for you, there is nothing no one can do to close it -PERIOD POINT BLANK- and I like I always say, when you treat people with respect and don't snatch their dignity and you'll win each and every time, even when it looks like you're losing, sometimes haters have to be confused to throw them off. It's all a part of God's plan of protection for you. My manager said some words that resonate with me daily. "God works for us not against us".

Let go of old pain, the longer you harbor negativity, the less space you have to be blessed with new opportunities of opulence that you're deserving of.

Be quiet! Sometimes it's best not to say much or say anything at all, that's how you know God is working, and you can hear his voice loud and clear.

Limit yourself! Everyone isn't always going to be happy for you - and you'll see the signs. When you're trying to do something different from everyone else, you're going to be faced with opposition from all sides! It's okay to eliminate people! Travel light, travel far!

Pray, have a conversation with God and show him what you're willing to do, to get what you ask for, nothing is just going to fall out of the sky into your lap, you have to work hard. And if something does fall in your lap, question the source and think about it...Adam bit that apple, you see what kinda shit he got us into.

And finally, I can't say it enough! TREAT PEOPLE RIGHT! AIN'T SHIT GOOD GONNA COME TO YOU UNTIL YOU TREAT PEOPLE WITH LOVE AND RESPECT, EVEN WHEN THEY PLOT AGAINST YOU! Trust and believe it's hard, but if you saw some of the people that plotted against me...and where they are at now. Never give up or let people steal your dreams, make it happen! Love these crazy ass hoes walking around undiagnosed, but don't ever live for them!

I've been in some dark places. Even though it was difficult for me to focus on the positive, there was always a pinhole of light that gave me inspiration and hope. We all have a lot to be thankful for and when you start to think about it, your entire perspective will change.

Be blessed and have a phenomenal evening.


Introducing Shyori

Long before I knew who he was, I saw him and I knew there was something about him. A certain something that I couldn't put into words. He conveyed confidence, assertiveness and displayed humility that I've never seen before.

art-ist \är-tist\ (noun): A person who works in one of the performing arts, as an actor, musician, or singer; a public performer and a person whose art exhibits exceptional skill. Shyori, the Jamaican born, melodic, captivating, singer/songwriter understood the concept of artistry long before he decided to make his mark on the world with his own music.

Born to a Chinese- Jamaican Mother and an African-Jamaican Father, his multi-cultural background made Shyori unique in his own right and set the backdrop for vast musical exposure. At the tender age of 3 Shyori’s mother reached a turning point in her life and decided that she and Shyori relocate to the beautiful city of Miami Beach. Times could have been easier but Shyori’s mother was determined for him to have the best and to never settle for less than what he rightfully deserved.

Not musically gifted, his mother began to notice his inclination towards music at a very young age. “I used to put on shows for my mom’s friends and my aunts and uncles. My first major influence of course being Michael Jackson, I swore I knew how to moonwalk; which really was me dragging my feet across the ground backwards,” says Shyori and from that moment on he knew that he was destined to entertain. He began performing at school talent shows and recitals preparing for his future in the world of entertainment.

Being a natural risk-taker and never one to settle for less or to be boxed into a category, Shyori decided to be an openly gay artist, simply because his music is a reflection of himself and his life experiences. “When you first hear gay artist you automatically think of someone stereotypically gay. A flamboyant queen sashaying across a stage, and although that may work for some artist, that’s not me. To me music has no gender or race or sexuality. Our UK counterparts remember that, but in the U.S. I’ve noticed we are a little more trivial and it takes away from the art itself.”

Inspired by the likes of Michael Jackson, Prince, Whitney Houston, Musiq Soulchild and Amy Winehouse – Shyori wants his music to reflect all the sounds that have inspired him including his roots of reggae.
His music, taken from the pages of his diary, provides an authentic universal appeal that is audibly absent in today’s market. “Music is music. I hate having to say I’m going to collaborate with a straight artist or a gay artist. At the end of the day we are all doing the same thing, just sex’n different people,” he laughs. “I plan to go all the way, touch people’s hearts, change people’s mindsets; legendary icons didn’t become icons taking the safe route. That’s my inspiration and it keeps me grounded”.

His debut, self-written single, “Love or War” chronicles the story of a helpless romantic who is at the crossroads in his relationship. “Love or War” is a genuinely rich introduction and a sign of things to come. Shyori’s warm, relaxing, intensely welcoming, yet gentle vocals blend impeccably over the bass and drum heavy R&B/Pop inspired track (a la Timbaland) that can easily go toe-to-toe with any current R&B male artist. It’s clear that his tone, style and sound place him in a category that’s been vacant since the early 90’s (Tevin Campbell) and would be a relief and refresher to mainstream radio.

Sit back and enjoy the ride on this musical journey. Destination, Shyori.


Better And Better...

I cried myself to sleep last night...

It's not a foreign concept to me, because I do it frequently, I don't like telling people that. But the truth of the matter is I get tired of everyone leaning on me, coming to me for the answers, always calling when they need or want something.

I read this article posted by LJ Knight that made me feel better - and it actually gave me the boost that I needed. A lot of the time, I find myself misunderstood, abandoned and alone. I can count on 3 fingers who I can count on when I really need something and even if they don't have it, they always seemingly make it happen. I guess that's better than most right?

I'll be the first person to tell you that I've harbored a lot of resentment and bitterness in my body. Earlier this year, I talked about one of the things that I've been bitter about. It happened when I was forced to move back to Los Angeles after going away to college. I literally put my life on hold for 8 years and I never finished. But I never let that dream go. Over the course of the last 8 years, I took classes here and there, but I was never focused when I was like when I attended Southern.

Over time I was pissed off until I realized what I was up against. No one in my family has ever graduated college. I remember when I first got to Southern, I said to myself, "I'm going to be the first person in my family to finish college." I was happy at the idea and I thought that people in my family would share the same sentiment.

My anger soon turned to bitterness when I realized that most people in my family laughed if not said something negative about me going to college. I was always told to just get a job and work - and for what? To be unhappy like them? Some of my aunt's an uncles told me I was naive and silly for attempting to go to college, one even went as far as telling me that I would never graduate - I never bought into that theory.

I've always been different, in every facet of the word. I'm the only large person in my family, I'm the only gay one in my family, I'm the only one who actually has some balls to stand up to shit talkers in my family, I'll go on ahead and label myself the black sheep, just because I don't really fit in with half of them. There are only a few people that I really trust in my family and at the end of the day, there are only two people that I can honestly say don't throw me under the bus.

In all honesty being a college graduate and going to school excites me very much. One of my goals of moving to the east coast finish school. It's important because I want my sister to have a better example to look up to. I've talked to my friend Kenny about this before. I follow his model for finishing school, primarily because he wasn't a traditional student. While most of my friends graduated around the time when they were supposed to, Kenny graduated when he was 30. It gave me a boost. He gave me the pep talk I needed to stay on track - and I set that goal for myself, "Graduate by the time you're 30."

One of the first things I did when I moved here was fill out an application to the local university. I got accepted and most of my credits transferred. I filled out my FAFSA and for the first time in my life, I got financial aid. It's a big deal for me - because there was always some financial issue blocking me from continuing and my family hasn't been at all supportive (with the exception of my uncle) in helping me get through college. Call me naive or whatever, but whenever I asked one of my family for tuition or something related to it, I always got a FIRM, SOLID, HARDCORE, NO. And it all honesty, it broke me, because I just knew that someone would help me - but again, it didn't stop me. I don't know how, but I kept going.

I've started the registration process for school last week - and it was fun to see all of the black kids on campus, who were excited about pursing their scholastic endeavors. It gets me excited when I see people going for their goals and reaching for my dreams and I always want to help those who are serious and focused about what they want to do, it's my way of helping myself, since I haven't always been supported 100%. It reminds me of the person that I used to be.

Yesterday after work, I went and bought books. Originally I had a book voucher for $100. I didn't complain because, again I never had financial aid, so I was grateful to get something. All the other times I've tried to go back to school I never bought books because I didn't have money to get them. Fortunately I'm smart and I take good notes. I was going in to get my psychology book, which was $97 dollars used and I was waiting to get paid to buy the rest of my books.

I went to the book store to get my book voucher processed and the clerk said "Okay you have $700 for books." I didn't say anything but okay. I smiled - because that was the first sign that things are getting better for me. I've paid a lot of dues, I've been through a lot of shit - and I've always felt like I got the short end of the stick. Everyday that changes...for the better.

There was a guy that helped me locate my books and before he walked off I asked him, "Silly question, but can you buy anything in the bookstore with your book voucher?" He said, "Yes anything is up for grabs," so I thought for a minute, "$450 in my pocket to trick off on some strippers or that laptop for $350?" So I picked up the mini notebook and an umbrella since it has been raining and i got drenched last week. I walked out of the book store with $16 of book money left. :-D. Guess I'll go and buy some fancy paper and notebooks.

All of that bullshit that I've been through was worth it, not only are all of my books and tuition paid for, I basically got a free laptop.

I'm not telling you this to brag. I'm telling you this to give you hope and to not abandon any of your dreams. You maybe faced with hurdle after hurdle - and you wont always clear them. Sometimes you have to run the race again to win. It doesn't mean defeat - it simply means you're perfecting your craft. My manger said something to me this year that I think about everyday, "God work's for you not against you." I now understand that this was my destiny, not to "finish on time." I had to attain some different lessons before I was able to focus on what I wanted. Everything works out in it's own time and in your favor.

I was so happy that I cried. For once, in a very long time, I felt like I had won. Everything that I had been through with school and the seemingly lack of progress, none of that matters anymore, because I am here finishing right now. All of the setbacks only helped me get setup! I truly have God's favor. You have no idea how much I've been through emotionally and mentally trying to attain this goal. But you just don't know how good it feels, to have everything "taken care of," and still have change

I can't wait to finish school next December, right before my 30th birthday. It will be a dream come true, I can taste it.

Never give up hope. Treat people right and with respect. Never come out of yourself to respond to ignorance and obviously miserable people. Pray - and treat people right, you'll always be taken care of. God will always send the right people at the right time to fill you up when you are empty.

Be blessed, never give up and stay strong.


Mild Monday.

Hi in there! How are you? How was your weekend? :-) I hope all is well with you. If not, focus on the great things that you have going for you. If you can't think of one, imagine what you want your life to be like - and thank God for that life, that you want to lead that you can't seem to get to. It will find you.

So for the past week I've been busy - I really attempted to blog all last week and finish my conclusion to "If Your Girl Only Knew." Between trying to find balance and not act manic and cry at the drop of a dime, I went to 3 concerts - plus I had a stomach virus. For the record, plain yogurt and some blueberries are the cure to everything...

You know, I can tell things are just opening up for me. It's been such a long while since I've been this optimistic about my life in general. The more you want to change, the easier it becomes for you to make the changes you need to in order to be happy. The key is surrounding yourself who are going to be 100% honest with you. Eliminating enablers and those who don't want to see you shit but fuck up have to go! Even if those people are your family members.

Trust and believe I am on the countdown to the end of summer. As most of you know I loathe the summer with a passion that's intense as the summer heat. But honestly, this has been a mild summer, compared to previous. In fact, it has been a great summer. It's been a summer of discovery. It's been a summer of triumph. It's been a summer of acceptance. I thank God depression and core meltdowns were not in regular rotation, but over the top spazzing was. I'm thankful to say that I've finally gotten over my childhood issues; primarily my fathers death, me being molested and my chaotic relationship with my family. I've come to terms with that and now it's all about me and my happiness.

I'm looking forward to going back to visit L.A. this weekend, this trip will be the longest stay since I moved  in February.So many good things have come out of this summer and I know that it's only going to get better. I'm looking forward to releasing Pop Life, getting back into the studio and falling in love...

I'm grateful. I have a lot to be thankful for. God has placed the right people in my path to make sure I don't brake.

About 10 minutes ago, I got off the phone with a friend that I've known for some time. The thing about real, true friendship is that, the people that know you best and care about you the most, you don't talk to them everyday. But when you do, it's like magic happening for the first time. It was such a blessing to hear from her - she confirmed a lot for me, the most important my happiness and peace. "You sound like you're happy and at peace with yourself." She couldn't be more right. There comes a point in life when you can look back and be grateful for all that has happened - especially the bad shit. I think writing "Pop Life" allowed me to make amends with everything that has happened in my past and it's allowed me to look towards the great things that are transpiring in my life right now.

I think this week I'll share a chapter with you from the new book...and I'm looking forward to recording Season 9 of "In The mix With Trent".


Please excuse this interruption stunt while i spazz out.

This has got to be one of the most difficult yet fulfilling transitions that I've ever been through in my life thus far. I think this was one more of God's many way's of further getting my attention and showing me who I really am (and everyone else for that matter to). When I tell you that every emotion has been tested, every sensory action  has been sharpened and every word has carried it's weight in copper, gold, silver and platinum - trust and believe these last 7 months have been a true muthafuckin test.


People come and try to get in your brain, to see what you're thinking, how you process your thoughts...and the funny thing is, they blatantly tell you this and you're looking at them, like why the fuck do you need to know this information? Bitches, I'm here to tell you that it's only because they're mad that they can't run game on you and they are trying to get insider trading tips a la Martha Stewart from you, so you can tell them how to play you! Did you understand that? Don't say shit! These bitches are the walking dead and they are trying to steal your mojo so they can live. In fact tell them all they need to know, because after you tell them, they're still not gonna have a clue. I'm so tempted to tell these crazy, undiagnosed people when you see a real muthafucka enter the room, BOW DOWN BITCH! You're fake as a Gucci Bag on Canal Street in the 80's.

Sometimes, you have got to tell these hoes that you are not GOD - look to him for inspiration and motivation! I'm so tired of these lame ass uninspired, lost, tossed and driven people who have the slightest idea on how to be productive and happy in life coming to me for resolutions. I can't solve your problems, so stop asking me! If you think I can or I say something that resonates with you, follow the advice and don't go completely left of what I said, Cause if you're coming back to me looking silly as fuck, that's an automatic excuse for me to talk shit. UGH! If you're going to use my rulebook, use it as a tool for things to do and more importantly NOT to do.

Needless to say, I'm having a rough patch. I can't wait for August to be over and done with. Once it's over I can officially celebrate not falling into my annual summer depression that is borderline morbid. I feel as though the recurrence of things that I'm actively balancing and dealing with are trying to heighten just to see if I will succumb to my old ways of dealing with things, staying locked off in a room and eating until I've gained 100 more pounds...

Trying to stay balanced is difficult, especially when you know your triggers and you're trying to put the security on that hoe, so you wont accidentally pull it and set some shit off.

If it weren't for my uncle and Lalah today, I would have completely fuckin' lost it and somebody woulda got that ass fucked up, cussed out and woulda came up short.

And what the fuck is up with these muthafickin fags beefin' on twitter? Wait till Pop Life comes out. That will be something to muthafuckin' beef about. I'm calling out names bitch.

Back to regularly scheduled programming. Thanks for allowing me to take a shit in your toilet. I'll be sure to flush now.

Here I Am...

So I'm in work mode...we've seen this before. So while it's my goal to blog every day, I may be spotty in posting. The next few months are about to be busy for me. I just can't wait to release the book. I'm being inspired left and right - which is making it a hell of a lot easier for me.

I just got off the phone with my mom and my sister. I must say that I'm actually looking forward to going back to L.A. to visit them and to hangout at some of my old spots. I think this is the longest that I've actually talked to my sister on the phone this year. It's interesting to monitor her growth from the east coast, versus being there every day. It's amazing to see her grow up, she's getting older and I have to keep reminding myself she's not the same kid I left 7 months ago. I think me moving away actually fast tracked her growth. When I get home I need to look her in the eye to make sure she's okay and she's not resentful towards me. She was actually the first person I told I was moving. But I remember when my uncle went away to school in the summer of 86' I resented him a very long time. But we're the best of friends today. I just wish my sister was 16 already! lol. Let me not say that, next thing you know, she will be 16 and I'll be having conversations with her about boys, sex, cigarettes and weed. SMH...

You know - I'm enjoying the calm of life, before the storm starts...the good storm. I've learned that shit is always going on, but it's all about how you respond to it. I'm finally mastering the art of being non-reactive and not taking things personal, while still enforcing boundaries.

At my day job, I'm very laxed. Long as you do what you're supposed to be doing and it doesn't involve me stopping what I'm doing to bail you out, we're good. There is this one tramp who likes to talk at me. She doesn't greet you, she see's you and she just starts talking to you about what she WANTS not NEEDS you to do. It's like "Bitch, who the fuck are you talking to?" Had this been 5 years ago, I would have cussed her and told her about her euro trash ass. But instead of me reverting back to the old ways of doing things, I simply enforce boundary by saying "Good Morning" after she spits out her requests. And I always do it with a smile, then I respond. It sets the tone for a better day and you don't even take in the negativity - me being nice and non-reactionary absorbs all of that. It took me a minute to get that.

I'm "officially single" again...which is good. I need to focus, but I feel something brewing....The east coast has that affect. I must say that the dating pool here is quite, idk... interesting? Lots of choices...

Nothing too much to report, except that Monica's Song Here I Am is one of my new favorites...have a good week and it's not that serious to let these hoes get under your skin! ::muah:: talk to you!


Make It Happen

I love this song. It came up random on #Pandora the other day...and it made me think about everything that i've been through.

Lip synch for you liiiiiiiiiiiiiiife bitch.


Letting Go, Loving Yourself...The Daily Dose.

When I let go and forgive the best life flows to me.
I forgive myself and set myself free.
I know they did they best they could at the time, I set them free.
I only control my choices. I chose to be in a relationship with them. My gift was the lessons that I learned. They are forgiven from now and forever.
I let them off the hook for how I feel
For a very long while, as you know, I've always held on to things and people that have hurt me. My recurring feelings of inadequacy are slowly starting to dissipate and with each day that passes I'm slowly seeing and feeling the layers of insecurity peel off and the person that I used to know - the bright eyed kid with every hope and dream in the world is coming back in to center view.

I'm very proud of myself and I haven't always been. The road has been tough and if you've been paying attention long enough, you were probably just as unsure as me, if I was going to be okay. There have been some extremely bleak moments - with highlights of happiness, that was less than temporary. Momentary, even.

I'm not sad by any means. I'm not in the free & clear yet either. But it's already done. There are still a couple of tests that need to be completed and they're not major either. In all honesty this is the first summer that I can remember that I haven't been sad or even worse, depressed. I think that i've been so used to being unhappy that I forgot what it was like to experience the cleansing, calming, soothing, sustaining rain. I some how found permanent happiness in the pleasure of pain. Funny how I said to myself last year was, the only way for me to make it is not spend another summer in Los Angeles.

Eventually you'll get to the point where you just don't have time to be bothered with the people and things that cripple, hinder and enable complacency in your life. Even though it's hard to find balance, I think I finally have the hang of it.

I'm happy.

I haven't been in a while. But I'm glad that I'm finally coming to the space in which I am okay with what happened and I'm not emotionally bound by it.

I am ready to share fully what happened. To tell my story, to share my experience - to ultimately allow the underdog that operates in the utmost and highest form of authenticity to finally win. For it is clear what is happening. The truth will always trump a lie. Authenticity will always trump a fraud. The light outshines the dark. And the good guys will always win...and he gets the guy.

If you don't already, subscribe and read The Daily Love. It will help you get over. Change is coming.

Pop Life....success, fame, wealth and notoriety never tasted so sweet...especially when you dreamt of it and made it happen.


Knowing When to Walk Away and S.T.F.U.

As @MsTerryMcMillan said “Adversity introduces you to yourself”. I can’t agree more. I’ve spent the last three years being re-introduced to myself, because I forgot along the way, more specifically, becoming “Trent Jackson”. For a very long while I used the past as a hitching post instead of a guide post.

I’m extremely tired of repetition, especially repetitive cycles. So I’m not about to sit up and try some shit that’s already proven not to work. We’re over the age of 5, our personalities are formed and we’re not (especially me) changing. Compromising isn't change. This is one of the very many reasons why I moved from Los Angeles to the east coast. Not to run or escape but to hear myself and my own voice.

People know when they are a hindrance. They will never admit it. But you can always tell by the things they say to you and the way they treat you, even when they are using friendliness and kind gestures as a guise to reel you in. Unfortunately, hinderer’s will always be that, for whatever reason. I’ve realized that they wish they could do something different (like win and congratulate) but they just don’t want to. They are complacent and “happy” with where they are. And a hinderer will always stew in their own rue.

I went to bed early last night, only because I was running on three hours of sleep yesterday. It was because I chose to respond to Midnight’s request of hooking up. “Midnight” my regular jump-off (I know I’ve been sex crazed lately) hit me on Sunday night right after a straight, platonic, associate put out a “feeler” if you will. I’m not sex crazed by any means; in fact in the conclusion of “If Your Girl Only Knew,” we’ll explore my real feelings on sex.

I wasn’t going to respond to Midnight’s request only because we had a two hour session in the east coast heat, Friday night when I arrived back to my house from my after-work romp with Tanya. I spent Saturday morning recouping, sleep and taking a train ride. So by the time Sunday came around I was beyond tired. Not only that. I’m getting tired of fucking him. It’s getting played out. Don’t get me wrong it’s cool, but. I’m ready to date.

Needless to say my straight, platonic, associate, who we’ll call Martyr, was just as intoxicated as that fool in Waiting to Exhale that needed a shave and wore leather in the summertime. Don’t act like you don’t know.

So I was preparing my lunch for Monday when he started to ramble really about nothing. We talked about a mutual friend, who is involved in a silly relationship, there is nothing fueling the relationship but addiction, sex and drama. I’ve learned to hold my tongue on expressing my opinion because we’ve all been there. You have to go through those insecure relationships to learn who you are as a person and what you’re deserving of. Hopefully people will get it before bitterness sets in. Bitterness is irreversible. I’m not the feds so I’m not providing out anymore bailout plans to the undeserving, especially those that continue to engage in mentally harmful relationships.

So as I’m continuing my Monday lunch duties, he turns the tables on me.

“You know T.J. you’re always quiet. I’ve been trying to figure you out for six months and I can’t put a finger on you. I know nothing about you. I don’t know your motives or agenda.”

“I’m 30 years old Martyr. There is no agenda or motive. But if I do have one, it’s focusing on my job and it’s putting my work out. Anything else is irrelevant. But if you mean you don’t know what firm I work for, I understand why you don’t.” I smiled looking him dead in his eye.

“Yes! That is it. I don’t know much about you. You don’t give up any information. I mean I know you work for the Government. But you don’t say shit about anything. I never know what you’re thinking.”

“You’re not supposed to know. You’re only doing it because you’re nosy. But if you want to know something, you just ask it. And I’ll answer it.” I added.

He glared at me for a minute. His wheels were turning. I guess he wasn’t expecting me to be so vague and cut throat at the same time.

I’m not one for small talk. I’m also not one just to sit up and have idle conversation about pointless topics. I have an utter disdain for jargon. I’ve also gotten use to people being fascinated by me. Not to blow my own horn, but I understand that I arouse people’s curiosity on more than one level.

“When’s the last time you gave oral sex to a man?” He asked me.

“Friday.” I replied looking him in the eye, somewhat caught off guard.

“Are you attracted to me?” He asked me drunk.

“No. But you’re not ugly either.” I quickly replied, carrying on about my cooking business.

Then I thought, “Wait. Did this nigga just make a pass at me?” I guess. I thought nothing of it. He just asked me to suck his dick. Someone must have told him I have that good… lmao, whatever. I guess. Boys. It’s something I’ve grown used to.

Trust me when I tell you, while most guys, especially black ones, won’t admit to being bi, curious or sexual let alone gay. If they trust you enough and there is liquor involved (to blame it on, if they ever get found out) there is nothing they won’t do for the experience.

Midnight must have felt someone honing in on his turf, cause he was blowing up my phone within minutes of Martyr’s line of questioning. Not that I wouldn't have led Martyr’s dick into the warmth of my mouth, that only would have set me up to continue being the sideline hoe. I’m kinda tired of being him. But Martyr is also a boy. He’s also persistent, which means he’ll ask again.

Speaking of not getting a read on me, I’ve learned how to shut the fuck up…finally. And it doesn’t necessarily work for or against you. But it is an automatic buffer to reduce the bullshit and get to the bottom line. In my mind and opinion, there is no need to sit up and paint a picture when the only concern is, is it an authentic Picasso. The only time I paint a picture is when I’m telling you a story. In real life, be real and upfront about what you want.

Martyr is probably afraid of rejection, like most of us are. And while I didn’t reject him, if he spent six months studying me like he stated so himself, he should have known to approach me. It's not really that hard to figure me out.

I'll just say this. It’s better to stay ahead of the game. While you’re on your journey today use the past as a reference of what to do, but more importantly what not to do, it's the only catalyst that lives within us that will produce change. Once you do this, you're one step closer to getting what you deserve and want. In my case, a boyfriend in which we go out to eat, get wasted, hangout, talk shit, hold hands, kiss and the occasional camping trip in which we engage in homoerotic activity a la Brokeback mountain in a tent.

Be well!


If Your Girl Only Knew, Part II

I always felt some kind of way when dudes swallowed my nut, especially if we weren’t in a committed relationship and being black and gay, you may as well say that fucking is a relationship. Gay men aren’t like lesbians. As soon as them bitches meet and they like each other, they are married with a dog, a BMW station wagon and they are going on trips to Barbados every 6 months. Men? Please, they are more dramatic than women, which is half of the reason why most men settle for sex. They aren’t even interested in getting to know you, they just wanna suck the dick up, until they hiccup

But like I was saying, when a man swallowed my nut, I felt like i had been violated. They weren’t supposed to do that. They had my children and I didn’t.

I went back to sleep, but before I did I just did a quick survey of my apartment just to make sure anything wasn’t missing. Even though I didn’t think he would steal from me, you never know.

I had no concept of time all; I know is that my phone ringing woke me up.

“Damn you still sleep?”
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
“Oh. It’s like that?”
“It ain't like shit. I’m sleep. Who is it?” I demanded.
“Sup wit you?”
“Nothin. Thinkin about that dick.”
“You didn’t have to leave.” I said, waking up all the way. His experience still fresh on my mind.
“Damn. I had to be at church this morning. I’ll hit you up later. What you doing tonight?”
 “Just hit me up.” I replied.
“Aiight sexy.”

I hung up the phone smiling. But one thought still hung over my head. Church? Nigga you just got fucked in the ass, you wasn’t thinking about church too hard.

Later that night, his call never came. It didn’t matter. I was busy working. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday had past, before I got a text from him.

I didn’t trip. Because I already knew what it was - and i was fine with that.

He would text randomly. The middle of the day even, which was a deal breaker for me, had he wanted to be a friend he wouldn’t have made the moves on me. He would have left the frothiness in his loins at the bar and on the bank of the river after we smoked that blunt. But it wasn’t his entire fault either. I didn’t have to invite him upstairs. I already knew what was up, which is why I did it. But calling me and texting me during non-booty call hours, is a muthafuckin hell to the nah nigga!

Then there was that one day he called me as I was getting ready to board the train.

“Whats good?” I asked.
“That dick.” He replied in his deep baritone.

I instantly became aroused. It was a turn on for him to talk to me like that - he wanted the dick and the best part about it all he wasn’t the type that looked like he liked to be fucked. But that was usually the case, most people assumed that because you’re effeminate, you weren’t capable of being “the man” in sexual encounters. Wrong! Most men that you wouldn’t even detect being gay, hit higher notes than Mariah Carey did in 1993.

 I thought about the way he arched his back when i slid all of the way inside of him. The thoughts replayed throughout my brain how I fucked him against the moonlight, right against the wall. I fucked him like i loved him. I fucked him like I was married to him. I fucked him intensely passionate. I made love to him.

“Like that?” I asked him.
“Come thru.”
“Where you at?”
“110th & Morningside” he replied.
“Bet. I’m on my way then.”

And just like that, I was on my way to his house. It was apparent that our bodies had made commitments whether we wanted to or not. But before I scouted the A, B and C train stop closest to me, he sent me his address and told me to call him once I got to his block.

I didn't think twice about going, besides we already fucked at my apartment, it was his turn. That's what real jump-off’s do.

I exited the train and called him as he requested. As I waited on the other end of the phone anxiously i tried to control the growing problem that was giving my loins more than a tingle.

"You there?"
"Yeah." I responded seductively.
"Aiight 182 is the number. Down the stairs to the basement." he instructed.

As I mobbed down his block my heart raced and it matched the pulsing intensity of my throbbing dick. I was never one to walk fast, but the adrenaline was bring me as close to a power walk as I was ever going to get. To an outsider, it looked as if I was rushing to the nearest toilet. It wasn't before long until I was in the front of his off colored gray brownstone that sat in the middle of the block.

It was a well-kept house. Nice, small fence blocked off the front, quaintly decorated with a patio table that look like it was used regularly.

I opened the gate. By nature I looked around to see if any of his neighbors caught a view of me coming in. I didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean anyone was watching. Someone was always watching. I didn’t even knock on the door or ring the doorbell before the door opened. He was beyond ready. His dick stood straight out at attention. “Sup?” He said as he licked his lips, tilted his head up while seductively looking me over.

I walked in. I grabbed his, thick, veiny chocolate dick and gave it a gentle tug while pushing myself in his mouth. He backed into the room; pulling me towards him and closing the door, letting me know that he was ready for the take down.

I pushed him against the door. I kissed him deep while pinning him down. I stroked my tongue across his lips, down his to neck. Where I made circles and slowly bit, while releasing my hands in bondage and place him one on his member and the other giving his nipple a slight flicker.

He moaned in ecstasy, “shit.” He said. I kept going – knowing that I read him right and gave him exactly what his body had been missing. He didn’t give me what I was missing, in my mind this was just sex.

Sex. Something I used to replace the void that I had always felt. Sex. Something to validate me and make me feel some sort of temporarily belonging that ultimately never worked. I had always tripped my mind into believing that I would fall in love and have  intense, erotic, deeply passionate sex to show him how much I cared. That shit ain’t happened and the last time it did, he was fucking everyone else too. I guess. But shit, I can’t be the only one that’s having a logical conversation while having some deep sexual contact. Hell, I was having a Savannah moment, “My body needed it.” Shit, 6 months in a city with no sex will drive a nigga crazy. Ya dig?

I followed him up the stairs while I glanced at his home studio on the way up, taking note, why he probably didn’t have a lot of people to his house, because he also worked there. And he was protective of himself anyway.

As he walked, I stared at his plumply firm ass, that I knew I was would be for the taking in a few minutes. We continued up another flight of stairs to the top level of the house where his bedroom was.

It was the typical male bedroom. The way your shit looked in college – everywhere. Except for me, I had OCD then. It’s worse now.

I took my clothes off without hesitation as he laid on his back in the bed, legs spread eagle, exposing his hanging sack and the split of his slightly hairy ass.

I got on the bed, taking his balls in my mouth. I slowly circled my tongue around them while I use my lips to suction them in place. He moaned “Ahhh. Fuck. That shit feel so fuckin’ Good. Damn I wanna tape this shit.” I didn’t stop, except, I ran my tongue, slowly, up the back of his dick. While taking a deep rest on the tip, slowly circling my tongue around the slit of his pee hole.

He took the deepest moan ever and I took him all the way down my throat. Forcing him to fuck my throat while his hands perfectly mounted the top of my head. “Suck that dick nigga. Fuck.” He instructed me.

I stopped.  Knowing that if he enjoyed it any further, he might not be able to handle what was coming towards him next.

I slowly guided my tongue down to the split of his ass and allowed my tongue to gently part him, just enough to give his body a shocking pulse that he felt from his head to his toe. “Damn muthafucka.” He said. He forcefully took his hands and pulled my head towards his. He looked me and started kissing me. He was turned on. He flipped me over and got on top of me while his tongue was in my mouth. His dick hit mine and he grinded on me. I grabbed his ass and smashed him into my body.

Our body contact was intense. He licked and sucked all over my body until he found his way to my dick, in which he went to town on. I felt like I was in a porno and he was one of those white girls that just drooled, slobbered and just went crazy while the dick was in her mouth. He was giving me the ultimate Becky. He didn’t lack technique either. It felt as if he was tongue kissing my dick. Keeping most of it in his mouth for what seemed like hours.

He 69’d me. He turned around with his dick in my mouth, placing his ass right in my face. I knew what he wanted and I gave right in to him, pulling him back, taking my hands an spreading open his ass ready to slide tongue right into his warm hole of clenching pleasure.

As soon as I gave him a whip of my tongue, he arched his back and stopped sucking my dick, sitting straight up on my face.

I tasted him an enjoyed it like it was my favorite food. The sweet scent and taste of him was pleasantly familiar as it was just days before, I was trying him out for the first time. I ran my tongue up and down and in and out of him. It was mutual enjoyment that I never wanted to end.

I gently gripped and squeezed his nipples as he erectly perched on my face allowing my tongue to go as deep as it could inside of him. He was overwhelmed and I am sure his body was being taken to places that he had never been before.

“Fuck me!” He moaned out. “I can’t take it anymore!” He continued. Just the way I remembered him saying it before.

I motioned him off my face and I watched him flip over and lay on his stomach, arching his ass perfectly in the air.

“Where the condom at?” I asked. He pointed at his top nightstand dresser drawer. I crawled over and got what I needed and I geared up the pony for the ride.

I pulled him apart. I gently rubbed the tip of my dick softly against his ass and watched him squirm in ecstasy. I slowly slid inside of him. Not to punish him or make him feel every piece of me as I slid in. I did it slow because I wanted to take my time. I didn’t want to rush. I wanted to revel in every moment of being inside of him.

He opened up right away. Allowing me to take residency in side of him, I let him bounce back on me to get the total feel of my dick again. I wanted him to take control before I took it myself. I put my hands around his waist and I mounted him. I put all of myself inside of him, pounding, giving him relentless thrusts as I place my hands on the wall, becoming one with him, while I stroked his hard, throbbing dick.

It was intense, and I didn’t stop. He collapsed further onto his stomach, leaving his ass in the air, burying his face in the pillow – enjoying the pleasuring pain that shot through is body.

After I worked up a sweat, I couldn’t take it anymore. His checks and my thighs were marinated in the same moisture. I pulled out and rolled over on my back while I continued to stoke myself.

He kneeled over me and gave himself a few pulls before he exploded on my stomach. He placed his face down in my crotch and gave my dick a reason to explode.

“I’m about to nut.” I said out of breath. He came up an as soon as he did, I shot everywhere. The traces landed on my chin.

We laid there for a moment, what he thought was the greatest sex wasn’t even a 1/10th of what I had done before. I wasn’t intimate with him and there was no real connection. The entire time I was thinking about my fling from the summer before, Young Fresh. I hadn’t had sex like that since him, but I wasn’t necessarily looking for it. Because all I had to do was have that connection with someone and it was on. After I came, he made me want to stop having sex. He was a turn off. My logic seemed to be working again.

As I laid there, I was ready to go. He got up from the bed and found a towel and tossed it to me so I could begin the cleanup process. I wiped myself down, getting up from the bed to assemble myself. As I picked up my underwear I couldn’t help but notice a flimsy pair of powder blue material near the closet door. It made me stop in my tracks.

He looked me. I looked at him. Then he saw what I was looking at.

“You a cross dresser?” I asked him firmly.
“What?” He questioned.
“You like to wear panties?” I asked him showing my disdain and confusion.
“What the fuck you talkin’ son?”

I looked at the panties. He looked back at me. I looked at him. He looked at the panties. Again, he looked back at me.

“Those are my wife’s.”
"You muthafucka."2


Sunday on Tues-day...The Best

I've always held Sunday a sacred day. Not because of church - I think that's bullshit. Muthafuckas allow satan to puppet and pimp their asses all week long and then here come SUNday they wanna be God like and holy for two hours. Then at SUNday dinner they wanna go back to their bullshit. Nigga please. Yall betta cut that shit out. He see's you. And so do I.

Staying on track, Sunday, the first day - is me time. It's my day to reflect, spend sometime alone with God and prepare for my upcoming week in the world. Usually I don't talk to many people on Sunday unless it's my family or my manager. Everyone else can wait till late Sunday or Monday.

There is a lot going on in my brain right now. Change is always uncomfortable, but it's needed if you want to attain certain things or to be at certain places. Last week was difficult because it was the first week of my new job. I had to get the layout of the plan, that wasn't given to me up front. I was hired for a job in which I have a title but very few job responsibilities. In essence, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. But, I found the answer. I'll tell you about it when it's appropriate.

Today would have been Tuesday's 40th birthday. It's funny how I always thought she would be one of the people that would be around a lifetime. But it's also funny how, I never imagined myself celebrating a lot with her. Even when I was growing up, she was there, but wasn't. Like I can see myself hanging out with my uncle months from now. I've even had dreams about being certain places and doing certain things with my Uncle and they've happened. I was never like that with Tuesday. I got other lessons from her. She is the one that really fine tuned my musical far as taste goes. She is the reason why I love 90's music the way I do. She and I used to hang tight when Lalah Hathaway's first CD came out. When Janet Jackson, Karyn White, Pebbles, Troop, Ready For The World, Michelle, Bobby Brown, New Edition, Al. B. Sure! and all the other music that came with that time period where hot. I miss her a lot. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her. That was my girl! She played a pivotal part in my youth and looking back she an I had a connection that no one else had...or so I'd like to think. She had it with everyone, she was able to make you feel welcomed and apart no matter what. And she instilled that in me. I remember she once told me to always talk to the person that is shy and isn't talking to anyone else. She also told me to take up for people when you see them not standing up for themselves...

I'm going back home to L.A. in a few weeks. I'm looking forward to seeing my sister the most and a couple of my family members. In all honesty, I hate L.A. It taught me a lot, but a lot has also happened at home - that no one wants to seem to talk about, which is hard for me because I'm the muthafucka that likes to be on the same page to avoid bullshit. It's imperative to talk about situations...and be upfront about them. I'm so tired of people lying just to save face or not show how fucked up they are, but they are quick to call you out on your shit. I guess I'll just cross that bridge when it comes. I would have never would have imagined that my family would have ended up the state that it's in.

The truth of the matter is, I'm slowly starting to realize you never really truly heal from childhood pain. You only learn to manage it. Manage it by finding other ways to channel it or you become bitter and accept it. Unfortunately, most of the people in my family don't channel - they accept. My family issues don't consume me like they use to, but I'm definitely aware that they are hiding in people, places and things as a constant reminder that they're always there.

My 4th book, "The Best" is going to solely focus on my family. It's based on Rahsaan Patterson's song by the same title. In the song he says, "I've given you the best of me, the best it's true. But I can't get the best from you, so I guess goodbye is the best that I can do."

With my move to the east coast, it's also become clear to me, that I'm also the catalyst for change, which means that I'll have to be the one to bring my family together. In all selfish honesty, I'm probably one of the few that can start the process. While there are others who can support the effort to make it happen. Maybe my book will be the start of the process. I'm sure that it will be, because no one likes being talked about, especially if it doesn't show them in the best light. The mention that I'm even writing a book about my family is gonna stir up some shit. Whatever, people know what they've done and we all know the truth.

In other news, you can't bring everyone to the new places you're going. I learned that last night when I spoke with a friend back in L.A. and she told me that she had spoken with someone that I used to be associated with. And I'm wondering why she chose to bring that information up, when she and I had a clear discussion about me not liking this person. I'm sure he's done the same with her. The fact that I've known "cool" with an enemy of mine presents a loyalty issue. I can't tell you who to be friends with. But when it pertains to me an my business, you get no information. But the point, the fact that she had even brought that up lets me know she had been running her fuckin' mouth. Well, know that you know I moved - now what? I can't entertain people who still gossip. We're 30, not 12. And that saying that "Everyone gossips" that's some hardcore bullshit, If I ain't never heard it. Most people know how to shut the fuck up and not repeat shit.

At this point in the game, if you're not helping - you're definitely hindering. I don't care how subtle you're doing something. A diamond is still a diamond, even if it's cloudy. Take no prisoners, eliminate the bullshit. Be careful of who you have around you, everyone isn't welcomed at your table. You know how Judas did Jesus.

 I'm grateful. I'm blessed - It is days like this one that are made up of the best things: the ability to reflect, the ability to acknowledge, the ability to accept with the proper plan to evoke and ultimately become change.


Let Me Put You Up On Game...

As I was sitting in my office today, in walked the only black female that works in my office. She's a cute girl and she reminds me a lot of my friend Carter. Too much a like. There is a total of 7 of us. Including my boss, the H.N.I.C. She walked in casually, sporting a bit of a smile. I liked her style and she was always impersonal but cordial when we spoke, I didn't take it personal. In fact it helps me focus better. The less talking I do, the more i win.

She walked in and handed me a tape recorder. Which i found interesting. But I already knew that it was to be used to record meetings that i had to attend, it was no biggie. But she was not only coming to hand me the recorder - she was also coming to drop some knowledge.

In this day in age, it's much quicker for real to recognize real. When she handed me the recorder, she smiled at me and she proceeded to let me know that she knew I was the type to read between the lines and pick up on the subtleties.

She told me the type of game I had to play in the office and to let me know about the person who had the job before me. Ultimately she told me what I was walking into. I always appreciate the messenger, because I am him most of the time. Which is right when she looked at me dead in the eye and said, "You are never to speak to me in the office. Use IM only - and we'll talk outside the building."

A real bitch knows how to play the game and win...but you should also know who you're dealing with. And she showed me. She told me to meet her for lunch at a particular spot on the property.

Standby for the story of #Tanya.


Hump Day Meltdown

First off, I'm on my boy period, so I'm not in the mood. Thank God it's almost over.
  • I knew it was gonna be some bullshit today. I'm operating on 3.75 hours of sleep and i forgot my lunch. I make such a big deal not to be late anymore, I spazz in the process and subways aren't late! I need to hurry up and buy a car, before long it will be cold and snowing. And even though I am a dramkingqueen i love playing dress up! (fag shit) I love winter clothes. I subconsciously moved to the east coast just to participate in winter. Mittens, ear muffs, scarves, thermal underwear. Bitch it ain't a game, neither is this married man that keeps texting my phone...oh yeah, Part II of "If Yo Girl Only Knew" is coming soon, gotta keep yall mouvz watering, dicks hard and boy pussies wet.
  • I think the fact that writing is now my source of habitual and consistent happiness again, I need to get out all that has happened to me, so I can make room for the constructive things that life has to offer.
  • One of your favorite fag celebrities once told me "You're not strong enough and you're never going to make it." That was before he left my book and DVD on the table after I bought him lunch.
  • I had a conversation with a certain young man who I think is a phenomenal talent. Like he really inspires me. He has great energy and the fact that he thinks for himself gives me a platonic hard-on. He actually restored my faith and hope in Black Gay men. You'll see him soon on the cover of my new book, "Pop Life."
  • Speaking of "Pop Life." I want to start promotion, but that's just me jumping the gun.
  • I have a really great manager that knows me well.
  • I love the fact that my new job sent me a wonderful Bamboo plant. The note said "Welcome to the team! Come grow with us. It brought a smile to my face and it almost made me cry. I'm a softy - and it's rare that people grant kind gestures towards me. It actually set my week up to be fantastic. Can a nigga get his cheque tho?
  • I'm excited about visiting L.A. all I want to do is see my sister and hangout with her. I miss her. Now I want to cry. I love that little girl.
  • Hearing, talking or thinking about Michael Jackson depresses me almost instantly.
  • I think it's safe to say that Janet Jackson has retired from recording music. She is clearly uninterested. And so is Whitney Houston for that matter.
  • I felt the need to pray for Beyonce this week. I think her marriage maybe hitting some bumps.
  • And while I'm on Beyonce, Kelly Rowland is the real talent.But where is LaTavia Roberson? That bitch got her coins and bounced.
  • I facebooked #TheGreatestExEver this morning. I platonically miss him.
  • I want one of those Sandwich Wrap things...
  • I want to talk to my sister, but she don't give me much on the phone because her mother monitors everything like she's the fuckin' FCC. Ain't nobody trying to turn kids against you, you do that to yourself #crazy.
  • Do yo follow me on Twitter?
  • Let's say for instance, I say you can stay with me for the weekend and I agree to pick you up from the airport. I know what time your flight gets in, etc. The night comes and I show up 1.5 hours late...what do you do? We'll I called up my ex and went to his house, cause I don't wait on people for an hour without a phone call. What the fuck I look like?
  • "Pop Life" everybody needs a thrill.
  • There are some great people on twitter. Like @ReggieIsCrazy
  • I miss my uncle DuWayne and aunt Kay. I think I was successful in convincing my aunt to have a party this year. She'll be 60 and she doesn't look a day over 12. In fact everyone in my family ages well - I have a lot to look forward to.
  • Did you know that I have 12 aunts and uncles. They were my lesson in learning how to deal with people. 
  • I'm so fuckin pissed, whatever has been biting me needs to die. My elbow is swollen from the damn bite...whatever fuckin bugs those were at the bus stop attacking me and had me looking crazy fighting the air, won! Fair and square. I have the marks to prove it. I feel like one of those crazy emo white girl bitches that scratches herself until she draws blood to ease her imaginary pain. Go figure. :-|
  • J.Lo had hits. -Period-
  • I have a tendency to jump to crazy conclusions.
  • I think I'll organize my file cabinet at work after I finish
  • I need to finish reading my S.O.P. I know they are going to throw some shit at me to see if I've been reading up on my duties. Thats how #corporate does
  • I'm so (not) looking forward to my new eating/workout regimen to prepare for this tour. You think you know, but you really have no idea how hard it is to WRITE, PUBLISH, PROMOTE a book yourself. That shit is hard work, but it's fun...
  • I have a webcam in my office at
  • I work in an office full of men, there are like 40 of them. 2 are only dateable/fuckable.
  • You know, I am worth so much more than sex. Where are the real niggas at that wanna fall in love, travel and do some shit together. Can I have a boyfriend before the world ends in 2020?
  • Maybe we'll meet at a bar, he'll drive a funky car...maybe we'll meet at the club and fall so deeply in love.
  • I've been letting a lot of shit go lately. Especially pertaining to people that have crossed me. I forgive, but bitch that don't mean we cool.
  • I just want to have two patron margaritas, look in his eyes tell him I love him and dance all night. #onlyineuropetho U got a passport?
  • I'm going to surprise my mother and sister on a holiday cruise to the Islands. My sister is so international. She has watched me travel all of her life. I miss her! Omgee, I'm going to cry.
  • I have successfully "channeled" Karyn White. Now where the fuck is Marsha Warfield?
  • Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis are the best producers ever. I wonder if Lalah would ever cut a record with them!
  • I love Lalah.
  • Why hasn't Whitney ever worked with Jam & Lewis?
Okay I'm done spazzing now. Thank you for allowing me to take a dump in your toilet. I'll politely flush now.

The Real Pop Life 2.8

As some of you know, for the last 3 years, I've been diligently crafting the latest addition to my collection of literary masterpieces, "Pop Life." And when I tell you that 3 really is a charm, it's really more than a fuckin' charm, especially when you have the Glitterazzi involved. The Glitterazzi you ask? 

Glitterazzi: A group of gay men who are well known (fake red carpet hoes) in certain social circles or groups, who appear to be famous and or well known...particularly only within that group. They pretend to be all inclusive and ever so supportive of one another, but it's really just an attempt to make sure one does not surpass the other.

For a very long while, I attempted and tried my hardest to be apart of the Glitterazzi. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought that it would help my career and enhance my social circle. I didn't know what the fuck I was thinking then - maybe hoping that I would finally fit in somewhere. I was temporarily successful - but you can't play for both teams, the good and evil or the real and the fake simultaneously. I can't be a fake bitch for long. It's never been apart of my makeup. Once I was in, I realized what a setup it was. I wasn't like any of them. My world didn't and still doesn't revolve around partying, fashion, being promiscuous and or sharing sex partners while pretending to be friends with someone, only to see how they operate - just to catch them up. When I excused myself, that's when the world as I knew it started to crumble and fall apart.

It was fall of 2007. I was just starting out on my book tour to promote my second novel, "Full Circle". I was excited. I was an independent author, I had a strong, solid, fan base, I sold 10,000 books (at that point) but I was insecure, still ignoring my core issues and had yet to deal with my mentally unstable family life. Not to mention, I stopped hanging out with the "in" crowd.

Within 9 months of the start of my book tour, little did I know that I would get caught up in drama, chaos, mayhem, shade, sabotage and trickery. Eventually Trent Jackson ended up dying in July of 2008. Don't act like you don't remember, because the moment some of you shady faggots get a chance, you're going to attempt to remind me. Only a select few know the truth behind the incidents that ultimately led to my temporary demise (if you will). And finally I am getting to the point in which I am ready to talk about it...only when the book comes out tho.

Believe it or not, the very same people who played a part in befriending and welcoming me into their social circle, were the same bitch ass niggas that had a hand in making sure the Trent Jackson name was tarnished. Trust and believe they thought they succeeded and know that  to this very fuckin minute they are reaching real far to see that this book gets held up long as possible. 

For instance, I was in the process of finding one of the last models to be on the cover of the book. I reached out to a young man who would have portrayed one of the parts extremely well. Well, little did I know his friends are the C.E.O.'s of Glitterazzi, Inc. My chances are shot with him- but I was smart, I never sent him the pieces of the manuscript they wanted to see. Besides, I think I was right on the money when I decided to hire straight men to be on the cover of the book....

The past few months, people having been tugging at my balls to try and convince me to give them bits and pieces of the book. Please, if my manager hasn't even got a copy of the book, I'm not giving to some "random" person who asks for it. I'm keeping this shit on lock, because i know these muthafuckin bitch ass niggas have been talking...I know what they've been saying and I know what they want. They and everyone else may as well wait until this fall to run me $15.00 so we can all be on the same page! You'll know the truth about me, the Glitterazzi and everything in between. 

The game is sick. It's even worse when you're black and gay. It would shock you, then again it wouldn't to hear about some of the things that go down behind the scenes and how some of your favorite gay internet stars are in real life...that's the thing, internet stars. I'm apart of it, but I'm not. Fortunately for me, I don't have to limit myself to the gay world, nor do I have to resort to botched up pseudo celebrity status to make it appear as though I'm important. It took me a minute for me to learn that I wasn't designed to EVER fit in. As a matter of fact none of us are. The quicker we learn that, the better off we'll be.

I've been wanting to talk about my experiences openly for quite sometime. I'm finally in a space in which I've healed with the last three years of my life and everything that came along with it. I'm blessed that i didn't turn out worse. I've made a lot of decisions that have worked out for me tremendously and I know that it's only going to get better. 

I'm at peace with all that has happened with the gay kids, but I'll never forget what happened. Now that I know my place - I know what I have to do. It took me a minute to understand that i'm more than my sexuality.

I have a statement to make. Pop Life, coming soon to a bookshelf near you.