Intimacy Issues

The Fall: On Greatness, Society and being a Sociopath

Last night I wondered, how much work do you have to put in til they [the public] consider you one of the Greats? This was prompted by seeing someone’s list of the current greatest rappers alive, with Kendrick Lamar on it.  Kendrick is fairly new to the scene as compared to the others on it, those considered veterans such as Nas, Eminem and Jay Z, but for someone, actually, a lot of people, he’s already there.


It got me thinking about his work.  He’s a decent rapper. He has the ability to be both ignorant and insightful, something many find difficult lately, or are simply too lazy to do.  But then, how can we consider him a Great?  I think it all boils down to the fact that we’ve grown accustomed to accepting what’s Less Than so when something’s mediocre, average and should be the bare necessity for any artist, to simple NOT be one-sided, we celebrate it like it’s the best thing ever. 

But that’s not the issue here.

One of the answers that I got to that question [I tweeted it] was “You have to die.”


You have to die for people to appreciate the true extent of your brilliance.

You have to no longer be able to create, for them to look back on your past work and see how amazing it is.

Isn’t that some shit?

People only see your excellence when they have to catch up and take all the time in the world analyzing it.

So, what I gathered from this is:

  • Most times, if you’re truly great, chances are, the majority won’t appreciate you, and if they do, it’s not immediate.
  • If you’re Great, you don’t create for the public. 
  • When you begin to create for the public, you have to sell out. Water it down. Come down to their level.

On death.


I understood the surface meaning, but then I thought of one of my favorite artists, The Weeknd.  He’s very much alive, well, in the physical sense, but what any fan can tell you is, Abel Tesfaye [The Weeknd] is far from alive internally.  


He is a man incapable of love, yet somewhat envious of those who can feel it.  We aren’t sure why he is as he is, we don’t know what happened to make the man switch off internally, but what we do know is, whereas he shuns the women who seek to love him romantically, he appreciates his fans, though he remains fully aware of the fact that they could leave at any moment.  It sounds like a sad existence doesn’t it? To most people it would. It’s easy to pity him because many of us feel our lives are only worth the love we receive.

I used to think so too. I understand why you may be shaking your hand as you “tsk tsk”, but let me tell you a little something about being an emotional person, and an artist..

Things hurt you in a deeper way than they would the average person.  Heartbreak stays with you, you force yourself to keep it on the surface, sometimes for inspiration, sometimes to feel like you have a colorful story, sometimes because you simply don’t know what to do with it.

I think to such people, every relationship, every interaction with a person, is a story in itself, and when it doesn’t end well, it’s a tragedy, not a simple end to a relationship.  

Everything is greater than it is. Nothing is ever what it is and to be honest, we don’t get over things.

You reach a point where you tire of constantly having to fix yourself and tell yourself this is simply Life. When you get tired of feeling like a mess who overreacts to everything. Of doubting your sanity, of wondering if there’s anything wrong with you because you can’t ever seem to find Peace.

And maybe, you decide to switch off. 

You decide your body can’t take the sleepless nights anymore.  Your heart can’t take the pressure and you can’t keep up with all this mess. You can’t constantly feel like you aren’t coping, and so you stop it.

Now, it’s not immediate.  It’s a gradual process. It’s constantly detaching yourself from anything that might take too much from you, anything you might feel the need to give yourself to.  It’s constantly saying “it doesn’t matter to me” until eventually, it doesn’t.  Until romance is just something to write about, but not feel.  Until intimacy is only for inspiration, not bonds.  Until you feel nothing more than what’s already within.  When things that used to make you want to help, or care, or intervene, are too far away for you to bother with.


I can’t tell you then you’ll feel “happy” or “fine”, but you’ll be within yourself and hopefully that’s a safer place than out here, for you. 


Make it Nasty: Sex And Violence

A hand squeezing tighter around her neck as she attempts to take shallower breaths.  She arches her back and feels the sting of a forming bruise on her backside. Nails dig into the back of her neck as teeth sink into her skin.  She’s roughly pushed further up and her legs shoved apart as the warm breath on her inner thigh signals a presence and as she breathes out “Wait, no..” and whimpers another set of teeth sink into her thigh and a hand reaches up to choke her again as another slaps her across the face. 

I wouldn’t be shocked  if that image turned you on.  Rough sex has become more and more appealing to us, leaking into everyday sex scenes and intimate moments on television and in books. The woman abruptly pushed up against a wall in an alley by her lover, roughly grabbed, then kissed.  Such images have made the majority of us crave that kind of raw passion, the lack of control that seems to accompany intense desire. And when you look at it like that, as merely passionate, it’s fine I guess.

But I’ve never really cared much for what’s going on on the surface.

At the height of my infatuation with being used, I felt I was losing control.  The bruises were darker and lasted longer, the bite marks would  draw blood, I’d get choked til I almost passed out and being hit didn’t bother me that much, in fact,  none of these things bothered me at all. I wanted to understand why.

Yes, I was into BDSM, sure, I liked rough sex, but why didn’t I have limits? Why wasn’t I scared to hurt myself by letting others take their frustrations out on me sexually?

On the surface I decided it could simply be Desire. I found it appealing, so I wanted it.

Underneath that, daddy issues. My father was a cold man and so I was intimate with men who could hurt me with my consent, thus creating a balance between their affection [sex] and rejection and pain.

Beneath that, society. When did we decide the abuse of women  is appealing? No, this has nothing to do with those who willingly walk into it and accept it, this is about those who are coaxed into believing it’s for any and every woman.

Two things happened last week that triggered this.

1) A lady on Twitter asked why we found violence appealing in the case of phone sex, or rather that was the example she used.  Things like “I want to destroy your pussy”, “I’m going to leave you a mess, unable to even move or speak”, “I wanna ravage your ass” are in actual fact, rather violent statements.  If you are so affectionate, why is it that you show it by seemingly “destroying” me? What, love is pain?

2)I came across a Tumblr post by a Lady who said she wanted to prove that we find women more appealing when bloodied and bruised, and dear God, I’m ashamed to say she was right.  She was pretty when she was plain, but her ragged picture afterwards was just so darn attractive. And that scared me.

There’s a certain yearning in the eyes of women who want to be hurt in any way possible.  Women who’ve accepted their reality as everyone else’s punching bag and have decided to roll with the punches, seek them out even.

We live in a society that’s saturated with images of violence and pain that it would be shocking if we hadn’t become desensitized to it and romanticized it.

It’s like Russian roulette every time you have that scarf around your throat, it could go either way and that’s part of the thrill. But do you know that?

Do you know that possibly, you aren’t satisfying your desires but being the cloth someone else leaves their frustrations on? And you helplessly yet willingly walk into these situations because it’s where you feel you need to be, what you need to have.

We’re led to believe we should want to be thrown about like rag dolls and we should think certain behaviours romantic but I call Bullshit.  I personally am extremely uncomfortable with it. Being pulled towards someone, having someone pin me up against a wall, anyone who I haven’t given prior consent doing things they think I’ll like .

Is it supposed to be non threatening because it’s someone that you know?  Because for me it’s all scary. Why would it be okay because it’s someone you have a platonic relationship with shoving you down and kissing you even though you didn’t want it? Because at least it wasn’t a stranger? It’s a stranger to your body,no?

The fact that we’ve romanticized being overpowered and imposed  this on people means many people don’t know where to draw the line between rapey behaviour and what they actually find sexy.

I’m saying we need to think sometimes about why we want certain things rather than just go with it. Especially if what you think you like constantly feels odd to you somehow.

Sometimes who/what we think we are is merely a product of our environment and not truly Us. And the sooner you know, the better.


The art of loving a travelling man

He said “There’s only one person I love. Myself, alone. I don’t want this other shit.” and I wondered why the girls who cry over him, do.

When you’ve heard a man express to you that he will always come first? Firstly, do you not hear him? Second, why burden yourself with the task of attempting to change him?

There are men who will never belong to you.   Men who do not take chances with affection and would sooner cut loose and forget about you than risk remembering your smile before he falls asleep. Men who will reach for you one moment and fold his arms up the next. And you have to remember that sometimes, it’s nothing personal. ‘

It’s not about him refusing to love You, it’s about him preserving His heart, in his eyes. You are merely a statistic, the faceless embodiment of possibilities that he is not willing to explore.

Often we assume that a man who will not cling to you, no matter how much he may seem to have an interest in you, is flawed. Why? Because we assume he’ll be back, he just needs time to “figure himself out”? We assume we will be the exception to the rule and we will change his Life by showing him the wonders of monogamy and the Beauty of faithful, committed love.

But have you ever once observed a man without expectation? Dated him, slept with him, and merely wanted to learn him as a human being that you interact with. Sometimes we get the most out of being a part of someone’s Life simply by being the observer.  The rocks on the shore that experience both the crashing waves and the water’s caress when at Peace, and still remain as they are, as it’s in their nature to be, stable. Sometimes the water’s turmoil is none of your business. Sometimes your mission is not to stop the crashing waves.

Which is why I listened when he said we were alright, and was only briefly annoyed when he left two days later.  I’d observed him long enough to know that what he’d said was a lie because he holds eye contact when he lies then breaks it quickly to hide the guilt. I wasn’t mad when he lashed out at me a week later because it had nothing to do with me, and so I laughed it off. I did not think of him for a month, he lived as he pleased, and when he saw it convenient, he called. We met. We argued. We drank. I went home. I felt my heart begin to get confused and my mind remind it that this was as it was. That we know him as he is and no, we will not be The One.

The One to teach him about Love, he has known it.

The One to tie him down, he has a mother to be committed to.

The One that got away, that spot’s taken.

We will not be The One to do anything but Be.

He said he loves it when girls get mad at him, and laughed. Why? Because he wants to know that he makes them feel what his Ex caused him to feel. I however, as I told him, am a narcissist who feels what she wants as she wants, and unlike the others, I do not stay mad.  I do not stay caring.

Like my friend.  She had similar experiences with him and continues to be angry, months later. She doesn’t understand why I can still speak to him, sit on his lap, share a cigarette with him and even look him in the eye, when she can’t.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s twisted. Who does that?” she says, holding back tears that are months overdue.

I ask her if she didn’t see that he was self-centered from the beginning and she goes quiet.

Did she want to love him? I ask. She looks away.

I ask why, she says he was “nice”.

I ask why she didn’t just appreciate it and leave it at that.

You see, he may be self-centered but he remains respectful.  Apart from refusing to fall in love, there is nothing about him that would make a woman feel bad. Nothing that he says nor does in any way disrespects women, and yet many of us will choose to hate men like him simply because they can’t be tied down.

It doesn’t seem logical that we’re holding on to dreams we’ve been sold by The Notebook, controlled by a need to have a better half, to the point where we hate the people we can’t train and seduce into submission.

Do we even bother to get to know the people we so desperately want to be linked to? Do you  know what triggers him? Will you be able to accept that sometimes they will need to go? To be their own person? Will you trust them? Do you know that a relationship actually requires understanding and not just tagged Facebook pictures and Goodnight texts? Do you really?

Will you respect that person enough to let them Be? Even if that means not always Being with you.

Can you understand that sometimes being there for or with someone doesn’t always mean possessing them?



A Blues existence in an Ignorant Rap era

I’m not sure if I could love myself if I didn’t know myself. If experience has taught me anything it’s that I’m the kind of person that you have to learn, to understand, in order to appreciate.  Most people I know alternate between hating and adoring me, and I understand because I do too.

I am too unstable for people to be calm around. I relate too much to female characters in Toni Morrison novels, Amy Winehouse spoke my heart so well I’m convinced she was Jesus and her music was the gospel, when Beyonce played Etta James in Cadillac Records, I understood exactly what she meant when she said “Oh honey, you wouldn’t even begin to understand my problems.”  I expect myself to end up with a drug habit, it would be shocking if I made it to 25 without the help of a therapist.

I am not shallow. I can be. But it is not in my nature to be. I feel and I think. Sometimes too much, sometimes the wrong things, but I do.  I wouldn’t say I’ve earned the right to be referred to as Crazy but come back in 2 years and I’ll be almost there, probably. I’m not Torch-Your-House-Crazy yet because, well, I’m still somewhat logical and hopeful.  Hopeful that things work out, and logic tells me I’ll get caught and I’m not trying to have my life disrupted by arson charges over Love, but..As I said, this is now..

I understand things I wish I didn’t and am unable to verbalize things I wish I could.  There is a certain loneliness, pain that is heard in music that one would like to feel, but few do. I am feeling it and again, understand why beautifully tragic lives can only exist for so long.  I think only a few exceptional artists can package heartbreak, without a catchy beat and make you believe it’s bearable. And I don’t mean relationship wise, although that too, counts.

If I’ve learned anything about great, sad artists, and from my experience, your heart doesn’t break once, it’s not about that one man who left, although sometimes it may be. Your heart breaks every time you remember the tiniest of things, something someone said about why you’re difficult to love, the one who held on and had to go because you were killing him inside, the time your father showed he didn’t care anymore, the time your mother didn’t defend you, and then the facade cracks, because I believe as an artist you can only maintain your facade for so long. We aren’t allowed/able to leave things in the past, especially as a writer, everything is connected and you have to constantly pull up memories and experiences. I think as a musician or painter it’s different because they move one, a musician has to move with the times and a painter can constantly find new inspiration, well, unless they choose to fixate on one thing but, that’s it.

I’m failing at being Young.  I’m not youthful in any sense of the word, I can’t even dress like people my age, I have to try. Why? Because I’m simply not here.  I realize that when I’m around peers and I’m completely uninterested in their stories, their hour long discussions about why the boy never texted back, when I meet the boys who want to prey on my insecurities and save me from myself, when I meet the men who hope I’m naive enough to use, the family members who don’t think you’re destined for anything but mediocrity, I’m uninterested and most times unaffected.  To quote Cali from Power of Pussy, “..Some people are just out here living and I’m fighting for it.” My issues are more along the lines of trying not to be a struggling artist, staying away from alcohol and trying to convince myself  suicide isn’t as appealing as it actually is. These are real issues for me that I struggle with all the time and ironically, I want no help with. I’m convinced I’m strong enough to get over it alone although when the sun sets I highly doubt that.

I’ve been telling my best friend that I feel a very lonely existence. The kind that envelops you and explaining it is kind of like explaining what it’s like to breathe through your’s normal, seems insignificant but is necessary. My other friend said he’d like to create the perfect man for him and I explained, it’s not about a romantic relationship, I merely want someone to relate, to understand why I make mountains out of molehills and some days I’m depressed and inconsolable, why I am as I am, because of what I’ve been.  Companionship and intimacy. I tire of meeting people and hearing Amy Winehouse’s “Stronger Than Me” playing in my head.

But consider the age we live in.  Intimacy is feared by many because of the idea of vulnerability and knowing you’d have to share yourself with someone else. How many times have we done that and it’s gone wrong? How many times has one had to mend bruised hearts and shattered egos and hide their trust issues? One too many it seems, for all of us.  But I often wonder if “Bitches ain’t shit” is strong enough to make you feel right on your worst day when you’re craving genuine affection.

I often say I need stable people around me but to be frank and fair, I wouldn’t know what to do with them. I’m learning the key to every functioning relationship, no matter how small, is understanding. Calm people with average life stories are not for me, I tend to ruin those that I encounter. On the other hand, finding your own Blake Fielder-Civil will mean little to no peace, or a different kind, I don’t know yet.

These thoughts make me feel selfish, because I’ve been blessed with a best friend I consider my Soul-Mate. A man who loves me unconditionally and I often tell people it’s sad because not a lot of people will get to feel what we have for each other in their lifetime. But despite this, despite the fact that I already experience an indescribable love that fulfills almost every part of me, there’s that. Because even he, as much as he loves me, cannot feel what I do as I do. He understands some bits and I may be asking too much to expect/ hope for, what I do.  But I understand why it isn’t possible, he is not me and I get that. I’m grateful for his love and support, still.

I think what I’m trying to say is, I want to connect with more people and unfortunately we live in a time when people would rather be anything but honest.  About their flaws, their desires, themselves. And for people like me, this leaves one feeling out of place and odd.

To quote @RomanKush on the issue “We’re the last of a dying breed”.

It’s hard to see the beauty in yourself to begin with considering Society. Even harder when we can’t even tell each other we’re worth something. When the only compliments you can count on are from two friends, strangers on the internet and yourself.

I wondered last night if a “You is kind, you is smart, you is important” would matter coming from the same person everyday. I doubted it. As I type this I wonder if I do my part, and I don’t know. I may be too busy observing to do anything.

I’m over having sex and miss making love. Fuck, I miss holding hands. Being able to cry in front of those you consider close to you, and I don’t mean silent tears, ugly cries. I miss passion. The raw passion that terrifies and yet intrigues. I’m sometimes ashamed of the fact that it burns in me because I don’t see it elsewhere.

And to answer Warsan’s question, Yes, I tried to change, and I know you understand why, and I couldn’t because this is how I am. And it’s a constant struggle to remember that I’m like this for a reason. That I have a right to sing the Blues.  I have to teach myself to not do what almost every other person I’ve met has done, told me I’m too much or too little of something. And this is where I am now.

And if I ever decide Life’s gotten to be too much, I will forgive myself for the decision I will make, because I will understand.  And it will not mean I would have been ungrateful for anything that has happened or anything that I’ve learned.

Image Image Image Image

At least I can admit that..

And sometimes, somewhere in between recovering from the last orgasm, still feeling his arms on your body and glancing at him, you realize you want more. 

Because when there’s you, His Issues, Him and Your Issues in between kisses, things get fogged up pretty quickly. You don’t maneuver as effortlessly with his expectations or lack thereof weighing you down and he doesn’t know how to touch you in such a way that he doesn’t remind you of your ex.

Sometimes you stop. You talk, you may even laugh and you know it’s bad because people who make you laugh always end up looking extra pretty to you.  He may kiss your ankle before pleasuring you and it’s those things that will make you smile and panic inside. Because the nice ones are the worst. They’re difficult to see as objects.

And isn’t this what it’s all about? Separating from each other? I can see you naked, lay next to you, kiss you when I please and grip your body over mine as we find a rhythm but..never ask how you are. And it’s not that I don’t care it’s just that, I care more for my already cracked heart that has nothing to do with you and I want to keep it that way.

I don’t want to remember your silhouette in detail nor do I want to wonder where you go and if you do what you do here, there, although I know you do and I never get mad because that’s the best way to deal with this, with you, and with myself. You laugh at everything and I learn how to too. I know the areas of my Life you touch and none of them are important to me.

I am here because I am reckless. I am a virus and unlike others I manage to enter and stay, maybe because you like the chaos that is This, and I, maybe because you too are  looking for someone who will make you feel the familiar sting of half felt rejection that your father got you accustomed to and maybe because we are both trying to see how dead inside we truly are.

But I’m slipping. And I pray you keep on cumming and going. Coming and going.

I pray we both know how to move forward.

And yet I know we don’t.

But blessed are we who can hold up masks and create facades that only crack at witching hours. 

Blessed are we who make our curses look beautiful.


It’s my Life, so how do I feel about You?

I’ve found that even among friends, females find it extremely difficult to communicate, especially about their desires, insecurities and issues. 

How easy is it to go up to a friend and really share yourself? Your crude business idea? Your insecurities about that one thing you  feel you lack in your relationship? The fact that you think said friend may not like you that much.. The fact that you think you’re a bad daughter or you might have a crush on someone? How freely are you able to express yourself with those you seem to be connected to?


This is what I’ve learned, as women we keep each other at arm’s length. 

And it’s understandable.

Now I’m not one of those females who say things like “I don’t have female friends because they aren’t trustworthy and they’re full of drama”, if experience has taught me anything it’s to take people as individuals because I know men who gossip more than a  lot of women I know and women who’re more hardworking and loyal than a lot of the men I know. Gender roles are a waste of time but that’s an issue for another day.


As I like to say, trust is for the naive.  You can never really know how one feels about you because with the ability to communicate and think comes the ability to deceive.  It’s the norm now. I won’t tell you I don’t like you/have issues with you but I will drop hints, snide remarks, smirks, sabotage at every opportunity. Such.

I’ve said it before that I cannot have any sort of relationship with people who don’t communicate. I’m a very vocal being, I over-share with those I choose to speak to and it would be easier if other people were like that to be honest, for me anyway.

I’ve lost friends over very petty things that I honestly feel could’ve been avoided.  Your friend will listen to you go on and on about being interested in a guy, and never make it known that she is too. The moment he shows interest in you, she disappears from your Life.   This is some unnecessary shit. If we’re that close why would it be possible to let something as simple and easy to find as Dick [because that’s usually the case] get in between us? [No pun intended].  I’ve observed that not many males I  know have this issue. With them, they make their interest known and proceed, assuming it’s nothing serious, whoever gets in first, does, and that’s it. Life goes on. They’re still friends. They’re fine. Why? Because they spoke about it. 


While looking for someone to share an idea with I realized I only felt comfortable with going to one of my friends. She was the one I was certain would relate, expand on, support and understand my idea. And so what does that say for my other friends? Because I know different sides to their personalities, who some of them really are, I don’t trust them with  things I treasure. And with that having been said, I guess the fact is, some of them aren’t even friends, just people who’ve been around for a while that I can tolerate and relate to when I’m drunk.  And this doesn’t bother me because they are not an actual part of my life. But sometimes I wonder if it makes me two faced. I am not malicious when it comes to interacting with them but I find myself questioning the reason why I keep around people I don’t need. Which leads me to wonder if really Life is all about using: people, experiences, knowledge, to your advantage. Is that it? 

“People need things, and if you don’t provide what they need, they don’t need you.”

I’m learning this applies for empathy, intimacy, money, sex, basically, everything.

So it’s quite simple isn’t it? No?

We’re all self-centered to a certain degree, even the most selfless among us. We don’t walk into situations we don’t want knowingly, we don’t deal with people we don’t want around and at the end of the say, the questions “What do I want? How do I feel about it?” always comes up. 

I will come before You and it can’t be anything to feel bad about, we’re all trying to survive. And if you feel the same, I’ll never fault you.


Whose fault is it that they don’t respect nor love you?

“Tell me who I have to be, to get some reciprocity..” -Lauryn Hill

I’m still guilty of doing a lot of things I preach against. See, there’s a difference between knowing what to do and actually doing it. 

What did I do today? I spent a fair amount of time repeating the words “He does not respect you” to myself as I went about my day because I don’t listen. I have this habit of silencing my intuition and believing one can salvage any situation. Sometimes I convince myself I’m paranoid, or overreacting. That all people need is time and understanding and it’ll be fine. When I feel it necessary, I can have the naivete of a 4 year old. 

Sometimes making excuses for people is our way of trying to salvage their reputation in our eyes. Especially if it’s for someone you know and have only just discovered that they may in fact be another way. You don’t want to deal with the rug being pulled out from under your feet so you convince yourself maybe it was never there. Maybe it’s fine and you wanted to actually be on the floor. And if the person actually is responsible for how you’re feeling, the confusion, sadness, they couldn’t have meant it, couldn’t have done it on purpose because you know them right? Right?

As you grow I don’t think it gets easier to deal with loss. We know it’s inevitable. We’ve seen many come and go. Some die, some betray, some get bored and walk away and some just aren’t there anymore and you’re not really sure why, but it never gets easier, especially if your heart has a tendency of healing and your mind remembering everything but what hurts.

People are as they are, as they’ve always been. 

But we continue to make excuses and wonder why.

Will knowing why really make a difference or do we want to know why just so we know it’s not us?

That you weren’t the reason why someone is now untrustworthy/ disrespectful/ angry or whatever. Is it always about truly understanding it? Or, when it comes to those you know, is it more about knowing you had nothing to do with it and thus not having an extra burden to carry? It sounds selfish I know but, not impossible. Not all that far fetched. 


In primary school, if someone was crying we’d all gather around and ask “Ke nna?” meaning “Is it me?” Once you’d been cleared, you breathed easy, it had nothing to do with you, the task of figuring out who’d wronged the crying peer was brought up and once he/she was discovered, we’d go about basically judging them and it was no longer even about the one in tears, but about the Shameful One who caused this.

I wonder if it’s like that now in relationships. Does the reason why your partner doesn’t love nor respect you matter because you want to know, really want to know? Or just to know that you didn’t do anything to deserve unrequited love? To know that you’re worthy.

As hard as it is to accept, some people are just that way. They will not be changed by Love. They will not have an epiphany one day on a night out drinking and call with a marriage proposal. They won’t wake up one morning and suddenly know how to treat you. It just is how it is.

“Asking him to respect you is asking him to go against his nature. You know that.” – Karabo Mooko.

And that is when all of this hit. For people who spend a significant amount of time fighting for respect in every area of our lives, we’re okay with having disrespectful partners who never show any appreciation, friends we don’t trust and allies we can’t confide in.

And isn’t that our fault?


Think Like A Bitch And Get A Man

The dating scene’s gotten weird since I was out there. To be honest over the past couple of months I’ve been watching Think Like A Man, Going The Distance and trying to understand Why Men Love Bitches so I haven’t really seen firsthand what’s going on til recently. And frankly, I’d rather crawl back into my little hole and cuddle up with my intimacy issues and favourite porn site. 

I see while I was gone we decided communication is too mainstream for us and ignoring each other is the best way to keep the other around. All these rules were created by those who realized that no, in actual fact, grown people can’t do something as simple as date. Interact. Maintain romantic relationships. Communicate. Verbalize their desires. 


Selfless souls such as Steve Harvey and Sherry Argov sought to help us by telling us the best ways to manipulate, I mean, obtain and keep members of the opposite sex. And boy, did we listen. 

I’ll be honest right here and right now. I can’t do this. 

No M’am.

I cannot pretend, I cannot play the mind games and no, I cannot take dating advice that really sounds, for lack of a more eloquent phrase, stupid as shit.

“Don’t fix anything in the house. You’ll make him feel like less of a man.”

“Don’t nag him, he’ll cheat and leave and it’ll be your fault.”

“Don’t text him first, you’ll look like a stalker then he’ll go for your best friend.”

“If he calls, answer before the first ring is done, he’ll know you’re interested.”


I’ve never been able to pretend. Especially when I like someone. I’ll simply tell you I do and what you do with that is on you.

No Sir, I do not have the time nor the energy to act coy. I don’t ignore calls to make you think I’m busy so you want me more. I won’t not text you because you might think I like you. Honey, I just might. So the fuck what?

I cannot jump back to primary school where we send each other subliminal “I like you. Do you like me as more than a friend?” messages. I refuse to and I think we’re pushing a  load of crap.

I think a lot of this nonsense could just be solved with respect.

If I respect you and your intelligence and maturity enough to lay my expectations on the table without treating you like a guinea pig and using tactics to try and obtain whatever I want from you, we’d be alright. Disappointed often maybe, but really in such situations, sooner rather than later, no?

If I respected you enough to answer your calls instead of ignoring you in order to “keep you interested”, there’d be less of this noise.

We’ve become cowards when it comes to love and we’d rather try and put it in a box, create  plans and missions like falling in love is going to war then we wonder why things don’t go smoothly?

Can we just not lie to each other?

Maybe others are okay with it but personally, I ask that you not lie to me.

I do not have the kind of heart that deals well with deception and betrayal. I have enough trust issues as is and I don’t know nor understand why people still say one thing and hide the fact that they’re doing another except for simply, they are cowards.

How can we honestly complain about the lack of honest relationships when we spend so much time trying to perfect the art of deception?

We cannot talk about being grown men and women and still not be able to verbalize what we want. Are we that scared of rejection?Is that it?

Dating’s become a chore. 

I dread meeting new men in my life who ALWAYS come with the “You’re so mature for your age, tell me your hopes and dreams and since you’re open minded and a feminist and whatever organize a threesome with your other feminist writer friend because you’re both beautiful and you don’t know that.”

My god. 

Listen, If I’m a bitch it’s because I’m like that naturally, not because a book told me to be so.

No, I will not act like you. I have no desire to.

I will not do anything I don’t want to in order to be chosen by you as worthy.

Can’t we see when people are just plain beautiful anymore? 

I think I still can but to be honest the pretense gets in the way and it never lasts.

I’ll say it right now I want something that lasts. I don’t mean the relationship should go on forever but let me see You all the time.

I still want to feel free to send needy texts when I’m down and not be ashamed. I want to be able to call if I’m happy at midnight and tell you I just wanted to hear your voice.

I want to be free with a partner with no advice nor interference from the media or friends because we both trust each other’s opinions and judgement. No? Too much?



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“I’m Every Woman..”

For some unknown reason, people expect others to carry their Race, Sex and Age group on their backs. As much as we spew out cliche crap like “Everyone is different” and “Be your own person”, we meet people and either expect them to conform to stereotypes and misconceptions we personally have, or not.

While hanging out with a friend, a man who’d been trying to court me for a while happened to pass by and decided to chill with us. It wasn’t awkward, conversation flowed, things were calm, going well.

Then someone brought up the issue of Ex’s. I joked that out of all of us, I probably always pick the worst ones. Lord, I wasn’t ready for what came next. This man got mad. I swear you would’ve thought the comment was somehow directed at him. 

“What is it with you bitches? [What?] I, not you..but..Women. Y’all..You don’t know what you want..You say you want a nice guy, then you get him, then YOU start changing and WE’RE the bad guys. Fuck that. No. Your ex’s can’t possibly be bad people,maybe you’re the one with the problem. Maybe YOU fuck them up. But you women think you’re perfect so nothing is ever your fault akere?”

Insert awkward silence as my friend and I stared at one another, confused and slightly amused. I had to wonder, is this what women sound like when we go on our “Men ain’t shit” rants? Cos it was pathetic as hell.

I asked “Who hurt you boo?” And he clammed up. “No one..I’m just saying.” Now, I don’t like people’s unnecessary feelings, I’m not gonna sit there and have you channel your feelings for your ex and spew your BS onto me, I don’t know her. I don’t know what’s up. So I explained.. “Look, evidently you have issues, and that’s cool, that’s your shit, so keep it as such. We don’t know who ever did whatever they did to you and it’s dumb for you to generalize, just as you wouldn’t have me saying “All men are shit. They lie and cheat and are all secretly psychotic.” It would be annoying as fuck and you wouldn’t be trying to hear that. So please, spare us your heartbreak.” He looked a tad bit embarrassed and then,relaxed..conversation continued and we steered clear of the Relationships topic. 

An hour or so later his friend rocks up. He also happens to be friends with one of my ex’s and evidently no one had told him things between his friend and I hadn’t ended well because he asks me how he is. I reply “Fuck that nigga hey” and laugh. Lord, again. “Why would you say that? He’s my boy. I thought you guys were happy together. What is it with you girls?One minute you love a guy, the next it’s fuck him…” and his rant continued, with the other guy throwing in his 2 cents about how females are two faced and…Zzzzzzz. I zoned out. After a few minutes of this I look at my friend and she’s obviously over the whole thing so we part ways with the guys, evidently they have heartbreak to discuss.

As we’re walking away I think..Generalizing about the opposite sex and trashing their behaviour when it came to relationship issues used to be considered a female trait. “Bitches are always bitching” as I overheard someone say once. How is it that we got to a point that WE are now the ones taking things in stride and men are coming apart at the seams?

This was a while ago. I’ve met more men since then who put this nonsense on me and to them I’ll say this : Listen, shut up. We don’t care. If you want sympathy, tell your story, fine. But you’ll get no love from any female if your approach is “Fuck y’all, you’re all the same.” We are not each other. Remember that and  go cry it out.

I personally believe one shouldn’t talk about their issues with others unless they’ve already dealt with them themselves. It leaves you vulnerable, exposed to opinions and suggestions that might do more harm than good and there’s a good chance you’ll become dependent on people to help fix everything. 

So if at all you have any issues with the opposite sex remember this [And this goes for both men and women] : People did that to you. Specific people. Not their whole gender/race/church group or whatever. Individuals. Nobody wants to hear that ‘You’re all the same” crap. It makes you sound immature, butthurt and pathetic. Do you want to be immature? Butthurt and pathetic? If so, go ‘head with yo bad self. But go do it far away from the rest of us. We can’t care.  Not like this. 


What’s Love got to do with Shit?

“We accept the Love we think we deserve” <—— Some cliche shit that makes the utmost sense.

It’s been said a woman will almost always go for the man who reminds her of her father,and I assume the Ladies who grew up fatherless because Daddy just couldn’t be bothered will at some point seek out and adore the Rolling Stone. She will want to love him and tie him down in order to prove that maybe,fuck,maybe Daddy would have stayed if Mommy tried hard enough.

To my friends who assume their lives would be better if their good-for-nothing fathers would have stayed I often say “Sometimes no father is better than a shit father.” It’s funny,I have one,you don’t,and we’re both clearly fucked up.

When you grow up with a womanizing father who treats your mother like a leper servant and lets you know that,really,women aren’t worth much,you don’t really know how to act. Like you aren’t all that important because you’re a mere woman,or like a Goddess because Daddy loved you.

Cos Daddy was God,you know? He was the Moral Compass, the Provider, The Truth. He was the one you could not question, touch and sometimes, couldn’t see. But his presence was always felt.

Daddy was also the reason why you sometimes felt like you lived in a haunted house. Daddy was the reason why Mother never really slept right and had a make up budget she couldn’t afford. He was the reason why maids never stayed and your aunts never visited. He was the reason why you knew what a penis looked like before your friends and why you were so good at keeping secrets.

But Daddy loved you.

As he loved Mama [With his fists].

And loved His mother [With silence].

And loved his women [With sex].

That was Male Affection. And now,that is what you live and crave for.

You fuck them,trap a few,fight them,break them then go silent.

Because that is all you know. That’s that love shit.

I understand exactly why things tend to be as they are. Being Daddy’s Girl means you love as he did,but you are also what he attempted to love,and failed.

Hurt people hurt others and it’s not your fault. You don’t know HOW to love purely,as they do in the songs..You relate to songs about rejection, meaningless sex and heartbreak, Love, True Love that ends with joy, marriage and comfort is for the birds.

Because Love,your Love,cannot be peaceful.

But what’s Love got to do with Shit anyway?

It’s “Fuck it,I don’t need a man” then one night stands til you lose count.

It’s “I’m not capable of Love” then tears at midnight.

It’s “I’m a Goddess” then that “I’m a bad bitch” text… tumblr_mgfhhoGBn11qd2487o1_500