Hello! It's been a long time since I've written in my super exclusive, members only, everyone but the government, my employer, facebook, twitter, and corporate interest, blog. Yes, a lot has changed during the few years since I've last written...dramatically! (note the exclamation point) Lets start with the obvious: a black man has become president despite all the odds being against him. Multiple natural disasters have handily destroyed several major cities/countries throughout the world, which ironically, resembles several relationships I've been involved in during these past few years. And dispite all those disastrous relationships, I managed to find a woman who is tailor fit for my imperfect personality. Just a second ago, I read my past memories that were recorded on this site, and I must say that I'm disappointed in the dedication I've shown in this blog. But life happens and I've fallen into the trappings of Life with a capital "L". Since I've last written I've become the documentarian for your average american male with slight bias towards your average African American experience. Since the last time I've shared myself with you all, I have struggled, succeeded, failed, cried, laughed, mourned, and all around LIVED! I've gone from thinking of $4.01 cents to 401K plans. Partying at the club to making my own damn margaritas at home. I have absolutely no complaints except for the price of absolute! My mental is in the state of constant progression, constant achievement, constant success, and constant evaluation on my constant progress! My new years resolution every year is to be in a better place then I was the year before. I'm having a few drinks right now with the woman I love the most, but I just wanted to test the new computer I bought right along with my writing chops and my ability to stay focused while simultaneously dealing with other distractions thrown my way. I will be writing more just to get back into my mode. Some of it may suck (most of it may suck), but it's a necessary practice that I fully intend to stay up on until I find my voice again. Stay tuned.

~Peace and Love...Calous

~Evolution
It's definitely been a while since the last post. Damn near 2 years. I have to say that even I am amazed at what my life has become since that last emotional outburst on August 11, 2008. To make a long story short, over the next two months, I busted my ass to find a job, any job, to get me out of the house. I relentlessly applied for every job that I saw, whether I felt I was qualified or not. I prayed to my creator to bless me with a "dream job" where I wouldn't have to get up early, and dress up. I prayed for a job where I would make 30,000 a yr or more. I prayed for a job where I would be surrounded by people of my own color, because i just feel more comfortable that way. It was a very picky prayer I'm sure, and if I was God, I'd have tossed my application out along with a few fallen angels.

"Who the hell does he think he is? Askin for all this shit...why i oughta..."

and you get the point.
The last puzzle piece to complete my dream job would put me in Atlanta, GA, because I always wanted to move there.

Why?

Because I always had this idea that Atlanta was this great Black mecca, where I could go and live as one with my people, like some kind of idealized American promised land for Blacks.

So I prayed every night to get a call back from one of the many jobs that I applied for in Atlanta. Two months later my dream came true.
I was at home alone and wanted to check my email so I could leave before my parents came back. It was the weirdest email I've ever received, like a written version of the disembodied voice you hear on an elevator. "Welcome to level 4!" It told me that I was selected to participate in a fingerprint session for a job with the IRS. I guess the goal was to make sure that I wasn't a criminal; or worse, a Black liberal. Anyways the fingerprint session was scheduled to be done in two days and I knew that I wouldn't be able to scrape up enough cash to make it to my promised land in that amount of time. It was like being given a winning lottery number two minutes before the drawing. Too little, too late. So I stared at the screen and read the email over and over, "Welcome to level 4" before I left to go to the bar, passing my parents on the way down the street. It was all so surreal that day. So close, yet so far.
A week, and quite a few trips to the bar later, I receive a phone call from a woman representing the IRS. She offers to work with my inability to make the ATL fingerprint session, and tells me that I can go the Richmond office to get it done. She asks me when I can do it and I told her ass "Tomorrow!! Tell them I will be there at 11:00!!"
And I couldn't wait to go to work that day. I couldn't wait to go to the Lobster and tell them that I was this {--}close to saying goodbye to the restaurant biz forever.
So the next day I was up bright and early. Leaving the house at around 8am. It only takes and hour and a half to get to Richmond, but I wasn't taking any chances. I ended up getting there at 10, and after sitting in my car for 10 minutes, go up. I was so nervous. I was expecting to walk into the middle of some sort of important human traffic jam, when I approached the office. You know how Hollywood shows the IRS office: "Everybody GO! GO! GO!!,MOVE!!MOVE!! MOVE!!! WE GOT PEOPLE TO AUDIT!!!" But it was actually pretty anti-climatic. It was empty and there were boxes and cubicles everywhere. When I walked in, a young man asked me what I was there for. I told him and he disappeared, a moment later an older black woman with really long locked hair came in his place. She introduced herself to me and led me to the back. She was very comforting. Just her appearance in and of itself instilled a sort of calm over me. Her presence told me that I didn't have to worry about my locks being a liability in my search for the promised land. It was very quick visit. We talked as she took my fingerprints, and she told me that if they were spending the money to get my prints, then I probably already have the job. "Just a matter of showing your ass in the interview and your in." she said with a smile. I drove home that day with the most fantastic smile on my face. Nothing could upset me. A few weeks later I receive another one of those emails, "Welcome to level 5!" I was told that I had an interview scheduled for the Saturday coming. What the hell happened to some kind of warning first. I still didn't have any money, to fly, and I wasn't too sure about driving. My car at the time was a Black'94 Nissan Altima with a '98 Engine, and I had been having some minor problems with it. I wasn't sure if it was up for a 9 hour road trip. The longest trip it had taken was a 3hr marathon to Lynchburg about a year prior. But something told me I had to go, no matter what, so I decided to drive to Atlanta, taking Charm and Aviso with me. I knew those were the only two who I could get to go to ATL with me on such short notice. Neither had a steady job at the time, and both were looking for a reason to get out of VA for a little bit. I needed the company for the 9 hour drive, and besides...None of us had ever been to the 'A'!, why the fuck not have fun while I'm down there?
When I got home from that trip I felt pretty good about my chances. I had the normal, post interview questions: "What could I have done better? Did I answer this good enough?" But for the most part, I was confident that I would get the job, and so was everyone else.

A month passes. I'm back in a funk because the interviewers said they would call the hired back within a week and I didn't get the call. I fell back into my old routine. Applying for more jobs, trying to keep the parents off my back. A brand new 24 year old at this point, I was really starting to feel like a loser. 24 w/ a bachelors degree living in the house with the parents. It was claustrophobic. And my patience was wearing thin. I had to figure something out. Then, one bright morning. My mom knocks on my door at 7 AM
"Damn," I say to myself "Did I forget to wash my dishes last night? That has to be it. Come in!!"
"Calvin...Telephone...It's the IRS," she says happily, phone extended in her hand.
I took the phone and heard the words that I have been praying to hear since graduation...
"Are you still interested in the job? Good! Heres the address, first day starts Monday after next, see you then!" Click.
I jumped up on my bed and nearly hit my head on the ceiling fan. At that moment I was the kid at Christmas, I was the fat kid with cake, I was the adolescent who just lost his virginity, I was a college grad, who just landed a job with the IRS!!!

The celebration didn't last long though because I only had a little over a week to close shop on all my Virginia affairs; pay all fines, pack all clothes. Decide who gets a goodbye, and who's life will I quietly slip out of. I Let my Lobster boss know the same day that I was leaving. He was happy for me and wished me luck. My last day was to be the following Wednesday. The next few days I sought out good friends that I hadn't chilled with in a while, because I knew that those would be the ones who I probably wouldn't see again for a very long time. I went to the bar with best friends, and toasted to a new life. The night before I left, I was full of mixed feelings. I was so happy to be starting a new chapter in my life. I spent my last night in Virginia with Taryn, who was twisting my hair. To this day I still owe her money, and I still intend to pay it, even if she's forgotten about it by now (I got you Taryn...Promise;))Sean came through to say goodbye and to crack a few last minute jokes. "She" came through too. I won't say who, but I was really happy to see her before I left. There was never any romantic involvement between us, but I always admired her, and wished that I had had the chance to get to know her better.

That night I drove home for the last time. One last romp through the Hampton streets. I cruised down Mercury Blvd, King Street. Drove around Hampton University, and visited the dock near the James River. The next morning, after taking care of some last minute preparations, I said goodbye to my mother. As much as I wanted to get away from her in the past, it was really hard leaving her that day. I put on a front like I was fine, but it was really hard. Hell, I was moving to a place 500 miles away, in which I knew no one! It was pretty intense. Yet even as I made it to Atlanta, to my dream job where I don't have to dress up, or wake up early for. My promised land where I can live as one with my people...I still have a lot to learn. These last two years have been a tremendous time of learning for me. Of growing for me. No longer am I the emotionally charged boy, who rants and raves about every little thing that doesn't go my way. I'm in charge of my own life now, and when things go wrong it's my fault. I've learned,since living here, that my perfect woman is not just going to fall into my lap, I have to be on the lookout for her, and be wise enough to not let her slip by if I meet her. I've learned that with time and patience my prayers will be answered. I've learned that no matter how cold the world can be sometimes, Karma will always work in your favor, as long as you work to sustain the goodness within yourself. I've constantly tried to improve myself since moving here, and though I may not always be successful, I will always take a lesson out of my failures.

I haven't written anything longer than a few short poems since I moved here. I plan to use the experiences that I've learned here, to renew my love of writing. I never fell out of love with it, but I have neglected it...for good reason, of course. It's really hard to write when your in the middle of a transition. Too many conflicting emotions racing around your head at one time, combined with a new and foreign city takes some time to dissect. I'm now just beginning to dissect what's in my head. To separate the lessons that I've learned while down here. I have much more to say but I will have to say it another day, because today was just an exercise. A way for me to metaphorically stretch my brain. I have to get back into the groove of phrasing my thoughts again, before I go into the specifics of my experiences in my own private promised land. So until next time, I'll leave with the same expression, because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Peace(Y)

Stick a fork in me~ I'm done. My life as I know it has gone to a place so horrible, that I can only call it hell x 666. After graduation, things were looking up. I was looking for a job and I had ambitions of being this wholesome high school teacher. I had optimistic visions of changing the world one kid at a time. After substituting for a few months, I decided that being a teacher was not my calling. I made the difficult yet realistic decision that teaching was definetely not something I could make a career out of. I saw faces of 25 year old teachers who appeared to look like they were in their early 30's. They looked so exhausted and burnt out and I genuinely sympathized for them, because I had a choice on whether I wanted to come in or not...they didn't. And on the days that I decided to come in, the children would drive me so deep into insanity that I felt like I was more of a psych ward officer, than a teacher. So after those experiences, I decided sooner, rather than later, not to teach. Now the problem is: what does an English Major w/ a minor in education do when they decide not to teach. That, my friends, is the question of the year, and I've been trying my damndest to answer it; however, mother dearest (as well intentioned as I hope she is trying to be) doesn't see things the same way. She thinks just because I have a degree on the wall, it's just as simple as putting in applications and the jobs should come flooding in. Wrong, Wrong, Wrong, and I'll say it again...Dead Fucking Wrong!!! I can't find a full time job for shit, and it's not for the lack of trying. I'm in a position where I'm about to turn 24 years old, I still live at home, I still make a living out of roasting lobsters, and the only time I have to myself is when I'm sleeping. Believe me when I say, I AM FUCKING LOOKING FOR A JOB!! The good Lord just hasn't passed one to me yet. Yet once again, mother dearest thinks I'm being lazy. I can spend 10 hours from 8 in the morning until 6 at night at the library, on the computer, looking for jobs, but the only thing she see's is when I come home and lay in the bed. She thinks I'm lazy. So I come home to hear her mouth.
"Why aren't you looking for a job?"
"I'm trying"
"No your not, your laying in your bed"
"I'm tired, I've been looking for a job all day"
"Your not trying hard enough, why are you limiting yourself?"
"I'm not limiting myself, I'm doing everything that I can do right now."
It's at this point that I start to get frustrated because all I want to do is go to bed and forget, if only for a brief period, what a horrible situation I'm in, but she won't stop.
"Why don't you try this, or that?"
"Didn't think of that, I'll try it tomorrow."
"You just don't care do you?!"
And it goes on and on and the only thing that I can think of is "WILL YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY, I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR A JOB FOR 10 HOURS, I JUST WORKED 4 DOUBLE SHIFTS IN A ROW!! I'M TIRED!!!"
So i leave the house cause apparently leaving the house is the only time I can get some peace. I go to a quite place like sandy bottoms nature park, or buckroe beach and just chill. I can't go to sleep or watch tv in peace, but it's better than the alternative.
Fast forward a few arguments later and I've left the house, not knowing or caring what I was gonna do, or where I was gonna stay because I was so fed up with things. I guess my moms was fed up with me too, so the feelings were mutual. I felt like if she want's me gone, I'll leave. I'll sleep in my car, I'll find a way to survive. I seen people in worse situations than me, with less resources make it, so I knew I could do it. Two days later I'm back at home, and this time my mom is charging me rent. So now I have a 2,000 dollar credit card bill to pay for, Car insurance to pay for, Phone bill to pay for, and her rent. In the meantime, while all this is going on, I meet this wonderful girl, who I feel is good enough to wife up. I do it all too, I let her meet my moms and everything. I haven't let a chick meet my mom since high school. To me it was real shit. Guess it wasn't to her, cause she broke up with me last night. It was kinda fucked up how it happened.
I was at the bar after working like my 5th split shift in a week, and I ask her to come so she comes and we're chillin like we always do. My car just broke down last week so I ask her for a ride. I offer her gas money, which she declines but I give to her anyways. Before we pull off, she gives me an invitation to her birthday party which is a few weeks away. Then when we get to my crib she shuts off the engine and:
"Well Calvin, I think I have to break up with you."
The look on my face was probably a twist between, Are you fucking kidding me, why out of the blue, and what did I do wrong?
"Whats the problem," I ask.
"When I said I would be your girlfriend, I thought I was ready for a real relationship, but it turns out that I wasn't ready."
"Well if you weren't sure, why did you even say yes."
"I don't know, but I really like you and I don't want us to stop talking."
I've heard that one before (shouts to bellz ;P ) When you hear that, it usually means "We can talk to each other a few more times just to end things on a good note."
We hadn't been together for too long, we talked for a couple months and we were together for a couple months, so I wasn't too hurt, but all I could think about was "Damn, I let you meet my mom. I was trying to do things right. I didn't even think about cheatin on her. Fuck, I wasn't even pressed about fuckin her. I just liked to be with her, and I got my feelings hurt. I mean, we weren't even together long enough to have a minor argument, let alone a major one. I guess it just wasn't in the cards. I'm a free agent again, so I guess I can do what I want...
Now with all that out the way, I'm still trying to find an apartment that I can afford, so I can leave this place that I used to feel was my home. It doesn't even feel like home anymore. I feel like I've worn out my welcome here, and thats saying alot, because nine times out of ten I go out of my way to not be here at all. So all in all, lets calculate the financial, and emotional damage for the past 3 months:
Financial: $2,000 credit bill, $200 phone bill, $200 rent, $250 court costs (speeding tickets), $150 getting car fixed, $55 insurance (+however much it's gonna go up cause of the tickets),
Emotional: Rift with parents, Breakup with girlfriend, Finding a new job, Dealing with bullshit from current job, Sleeping in the car for a few nights, and trying to find a place to live
Trying to understand it all: Priceless.
Goodnight.

Not enough hours~ Since graduation, I feel like a part of me has been stripped away and replaced with newfound responsibilities. Before, I only had to worry about what my thesis was going to be on that ten page paper; now, I have to worry about how I'm gonna pay all these fuckin bills that keep coming in the mail. I just made it so some of them get taken out of my checking account automatically, and that makes things a little bit easier. The only thing I don't like about that is the fact that I have to limit my ATM usage. I've been an ATM hawk over the years and to make that adjustment is killing me. Fortunately I've been serving a lot more than cooking at the lobster, so I can keep a little bit of pocket change on me at all times. I think I bring in an average of 300 a week, I guess that wouldn't be so bad if I didn't smoke all the damn time. That shit is starting to kill my pockets, and my brain. I've been cutting down on the herbal treatments recently, mainly because I feel like I'm getting dumber by the day. I've gone from smoking everyday to smoking like once every two or three days. I know it's not a big difference but it's a start. I feel like there is so much going on in my life, but if I look at the big picture, there really ain't shit going on. There are a lot of things that I could eliminate from my life, but I feel like I can't. I could eliminate the music aspect from my life, but I can't simply because I believe that we have enough talent to make an impact in the industry. Backlash records/ent. is starting to become bigger. We have a lot of mixtapes and CD's that are able to be distributed, it's just that with little manpower they are difficult to distribute in a wide scale. Women take up a big portion of my life, well this one woman. I find myself thinking about her more than I think I should, and I just admitted to myself today that I'm scared to just let shit go and live my life. I've gotten my feelings hurt so many times that I feel like if I put energy into making something happen, I'll just fall on my face. I could let that go too, but what kind of man would I be if I said 'fuck women'. I'm laughing right now at just the thought. This whole business with living at home is really starting to get under my skin because I can't live my life the way I want to live it. I have to put up with parental advice every fuckin day. I don't look gift horses in the grill, but honestly, who wants to hear advice every day if they don't think they need it. I appreciate the lessons parents can teach you but I don't think parents understand that there are some lessons that can't be taught, they have to be learned. Lately my thoughts have been all over the place like this entry, and I don't know what to do about it. It seems like I have daily daydreams about running away to Georgia and just starting a new life there, but that's not realistic. I have to save more money to make that reality and in the mean time I have to get my career in line so I can afford to stay in a place that I actually want to stay in. There are just not enough hours in the day for me to do everything that I want to do. My brain is possesed with scattered thoughts and I just want to organize them all neatly and then decide what I want to do. The problem is that it just seems like an impossible feat. Maybe sometime in the near future my thoughts will be a lil less problematic. I'll holla.
Peace (Y)

Crossing that stage~"Hope all my true muthafuckas know this be the realist shit I ever wrote Against All Odds!!!" ~Tupac Shakur

I felt like I had to put that quote up there because it fits. At this moment, I feel something that I have never felt before in my life. A sense of accomplishment that I have never dreamed of. I remember back when I was 10 years old, living in Va Beach, and chillin wit my best friends at the time. Those days seemed so carefree. We did stupid things all the time and acted like nothing could touch us. No bills to pay, no tank to fill, no real problems. My biggest problem back then was how to beat sonic the hedgehog when it came out. Then I remember leaving and moving to hampton where I met people who I still chill with to this day. I remember the schemes we used to come up with to lure girls to my boy's crib. I remember the adventures (yes adventures, we did some crazy things back then) that we used to get into just to pass the time. I remember the fights we had against each other and against other dudes. But through it all we are all still tight as hell. Next I remember getting my acceptance letter to college. At first, I wasn't feelin college, I was tired of school and I wanted to just find my way. My mom gave me a choice, but I could tell that she really wanted me to go, so I went. She was my primary driving force, and she continued to be my driving force for my first two years of college. After the first two years, I realized that the world was cold. I was living on a campus apartment and I didn't have a meal plan. I had to buy my own food and whatnot. I was so used to just going to the cafe and actin a fool, that when I had to fix my own stuff I knew what to do, but I wasn't happy about it. After that experience, I realized that I needed to continue my education for myself, and not just for my family. I realized that there was gonna be a time where I would have to fend for myself and I couldn't rely on my peoples to save me. So I started taking school more seriously. Unfortunately, my first two years, I skated through and my GPA wasn't that good (2.14). So I spend the better part of the next two years trying to get it up. It was like climbing an uphill battle, but I got to the point that I wanted ( at least 2.9, not great but not bad either). I learned about different cultures in college, I learned how to talk to people better and best of all I learned how to fuck, (nothin but the realness). Through all the things I've been through along the way (personal problems, deaths, doubt, dispair, courtrooms, haters) I've managed to get to the point where nobody can say anything but "That lil hardheaded muthafucka done did the impossible. He just proved that you can take a lazy, selfish bonehead boy, and turn him into a strong, determined and dedicated black man." I can't thank anybody but God, because he has definetely watched over me all these years, because I know after all the dumb ass things that I have done, nobody could have protected me from more harm than he has. I can't even explain how real it is. I'm not gonna front like I'm really a constant constant member of the church because I'm not, but I know that God is the only reason that I have gotten to the point that I am at today and I'm not gonna act like it's wasn't him. Next I wanna shout out (you know I gotta give shout outs!!! You know what the deal is!!!) My uncle henry and my aunt laura: for being my favorite aunt and uncle. You two always pushed me to be better and had motivational things to say to me. I love you two so much. My grandmother Sellers: I stayed with you and pop pop for so many years and it hurt me so bad to see him go. He was the best role model I could ever have in my life, and I thank God so much that I had the chances that I had to spend time with him. To my grandmother Pearl: I honestly never got the chance to really know you, but I love you just the same. You have always shown me nothing but love and support over the years, and I am sad to see that your health has gone down a little bit. I will pray that you will recover and continue to be a blessing to everyone. To my other aunts and uncles: I don't really see you guys too much, but when I do, you always show me love and keep it real with me. For that you have all my love. To my Dad: We've had our differences over the years, (some you probably don't even know about) but despite the fact, you have been a very good father. I hear so many stories about other guys and the relationships they have with their dads and I feel like I won the jackpot. You have always motivated me to do better, and even though I don't listen to everything you say, I still hear you. I couldn't ask for a better father, and I love you. To my Step-father: Scott, I remember when I met you and you told me that you wern't trying to take my dad's place. I remember thinking "who the hell cares, it's not like your the first boyfriend I've met" I was 14 and by that time I had more important things to worry about than who my mom was dating. I knew she had a life by that time, because I had one too. But despite that, I respected the fact that you came to me like that, you didn't talk to me like a child, and I couldn't do anything but like you for that. I consider you to be as much a father to me as my real dad, and that's saying a lot. You taught me how to drive, you showed me how to change a tire, you taught me all there was to be about being a man, because you were there during those crucial years when my dad wasn't. If I never say anything like this again, I just want you to know that I love you like you were my flesh and blood because of the things you have done for me and because you bring my mom so much happiness. To my sister: Noshia, I remember when we were kids and we used to argue all the time, but no matter what, you never told on me (I remember telling on you a couple times though, but I didn't know the code then, you beat it into me :)) When you were married to HB I didn't see you that much, you were always gone, so we didn't really get to bond while I was really growing up. But you have more than made up for it in the past few years, with all your support and everything that you have done for me. Plus you gave me motermouth (Jazman) to boss around. I just don't know how long I'll be able to get her leave the room by telling her to go pick out a movie. Last but not least, Mom: You have been everything to me. You have given me love when I thought nobody loved me, you have motivated me when I thought nobody could motivate me, you have continually been the light in my life and If God is the first one I thank, then you are a close second. Nothing I do can thank you for all the car's you've gotten me, the clothes and shoes you've bought for me, the lessons you taught me, or the way you can inspire me. I can't say enough how much I love you. To everybody else, it's getting late, and I'm getting tired, so if I left anyone out, just know that it wasn't on purpose, I was really just touchin on family. But anyone else that has been a major factor and a big presence in my life, you know who you are, and I thank you for the support that you have given me as much as anyone else I have thanked. The last thing that I want to say is that for these past few years, I have spent countless days and months wondering who I am and what I am doing here. I haven't completely figured that out yet, but lets put it this way: I look at college like it's the gas station before a long trip. You leave the house, cruise for a little bit before you gas up, then you hit the road for a loooooong time. Well College was like filling up my tank (full of unleaded knowledge) before I hit the highway (real world). I just hope that I get to my destination before I run outta gas.

....When I cross that stage....

Peace (Y)

Don't hate the playa, Hate the game~ and I hate both. Game...what the fuck is it? is it being able to talk the pants of a chick? Is it being able to attract women with little to no effort? I don't think it's any of those, hell, I don't think game is anything but...a game. And to be honest, I'm tired of playin it. I've successfully spent the last five years of my college life "runnin game" on chicks and failing miserably every chance I get. Hell, the only time I'm really happy with a girl is if I meet her by accident. You know how it goes when some unexpected shit happens. For example, you ask a chick for some paper or something and she gives it to you with a number on it, you start talkin to each other and next thing you know, your fuckin her. Now that ain't all that bad, I have no complaints when that happens, but I do have a complaint about what happens when I actually try to get at a chick. Whenever I see a girl I like, and I try to get at her, I'm always that nigga who's "cool and all" but not her type. And I can't for the life of me understand how that works out. I always get fuckin "friended" and it's a wrap. Which brings me back to game. My game is not strong enough and the force is not powerful enough for me to get my way. Here's a good story, I can be chillin wit my niggas, and each one of us will approach a girl, somehow someway, both of them manage to get homegirl talkin (cause that is really all you need to do) but when I try to get homegirl talkin, I get "the look". We all know that "the look" means 1 of 3 things: your ugly, your a clown, I have a man. I know for damn sure that I ain't ugly, I do know that I can be a clown sometimes, but most of the time I'm pretty chill, and as for the man thing, if that's her excuse, you can try to argue and maybe it'll work and maybe it won't, but I don't have time for drama so I don't even try. I think my problem is the fact that when I approach a woman, I start thinking about what I wanna say so much, that whatever comes out is garbage. My mind'll say "my name is Cal, can I buy u a drink?" but my mouth says some ol niggerish shit like "ay yo, whats good wit you, you got a man?" Now, no matter how hard I try to ignore the facts, I know that I'm gettin old. I'm 23 years old (not too old but still...), and even though I don't wanna admit it, I gotta find a girl to kick back wit. This shouldn't be a problem, but it is. It's a problem because, when you adopt that mindset, you lower your standards. It may not be that way for everybody, but it is for me. I can tell that I'm lowering my standards, and I'm not even talkin about looks, I'm talkin about the qualities a girl has. While a few years ago, I may have only fucked wit chicks in college, I find myself fuckin wit girls who haven't been in college and don't know what the fuck they wanna do. The conflict is crazy, because while I know that I should hold out for somethin better, that clock is steady tickin and next thing you know I just wasted 5 years looking for "the one" who I can't find, and I refuse to let that happen. On the same line, if I force myself to accept somebody, the chances of that relationship surviving is slim to none. It's a double edged sword cause I'm still wasting my time. The confusion is starting to take over to the point where I just wanna say fuck it, and wait for something to happen, but that would be taking the pussy way out. Since I call myself a man, I got to act like a man and face my challenges head held high, and just not give a fuck. My problem is, It's hard for me to not give a fuck because I look at how things could turn out in the future, and not giving a fuck is not going to make my future better. Sometime I hate the way my mind is constantly overwhelmed with thoughts, I just want to turn it off and live for a change. Add to the fact that bitches (keyword: bitches, not my beautiful sisters) don't know what the fuck they want (they want to date a thug, but marry a man who takes care of his BI, but when a man comes her way, she's so blinded by the thugs edge, that she misses the man who wants nothing more than to see her smile) and you have a whole 'nother side of the coin to look at. A side that I don't even want to begin to touch. Now I know that if anybody I know is reading this, your probably getting a good laugh right now, but shit, if you haven't figured it out yet: This is me, Pure and uncut. You can get no closer to knowing me than this page, which is why I don't write in it everyday, I choose what I want to put out there. It's some things up here that I'm ashamed of, and things I'm proud of, but it's all me. Love me or hate me for it. If you love me for it, then I love you right back, but if you hate and got jokes, then I probably never gave a fuck about your opinion anyways.
Peace (Y).

Being Different~ Today I realized a shocking truth that was disturbing at first, then led me to believe that this truth makes me a better person. I'm different. That's right, I'm different, and this ain't no gotdamn after-school special. Now even though most people say that being different is okay, most of those same people don't mean it. When they say shit like that, they actually mean, "being different is okay, as long as your different within the boundaries." The boundaries meaning such things as, dress (you can wear different shoes, but if your black they can't be skateboarding shoes, they have to be nikes or reebok, or we'll classify you wit the white people). Now I'm not saying that I run around with skateboard shoes on (I don't). What I'm saying is that if I decided to rock skateboarding shoes, I'd be ridiculed for it and I probably wouldn't want to wear them anymore cause they would just make my social life harder to deal wit. And this, my friends, is where the conflict comes into play. Why are we so scared to be different? Because we want to be "accepted"? Because we want to get that girl who only likes mainstream shit? Because we want to be seen with the cool crowd? or because we're scared of being weird? The answer is all of the above. We don't want to be different, because we have a desire to be accepted by the people who wouldn't accept us if we did wear those skateboarding shoes, or if we dyed our hair green. We want to get the girl (or guy,whatever ur preference) that will only like us if we do the things that everybody else considers normal. We will go through hell to make sure that everyone around us won't give us those "s/he's weird" looks when we're shopping at the mall. After all, "being normal" is human nature, isn't it? We all have that desire to be what everyone wants us to be so we won't have to deal with those looks...so we can be "accepted". That's why I admire those people I see who dare to be different. I admire people who don't give a fuck, because I myself so desperately wish that I had the same attitude. I wish that I had the advantage of going through life not caring if people thought my clothes were bought out the thrift store. I crave that mentality so much, because different people make the world go round. If we didn't have people that dared to be different, the world would be stuck in the 50's. Think about how this country would be today, if we didn't have those few women who decided to wear swimsuits in the old days (no tip drill video's, that's for damn sure) What about if we didn't have the people who wanted to wear different clothing (none of our name brands would exist today). This country is so fixated in churning out garden variety individuals that the only people who truly shine are the ones who say "fuck that!" Now at the beginning of this post, I said that I was different. When I said that, I don't mean that I'm on the whole "fuck that!" level. When I say I'm different, I'm still pretty damn normal, I'm just different within the crowd that I hang out with. I'm usually the most soft spoken one of the group, and I'm the one that never wants to go to club letouts because I feel like it's a waste of time. I'm the one that usually won't fuck a random chick that I just met cause I'm scared of what's out there (keyword: usually. Sometimes I slip up and say "fuck that!" every now and then). I'm the one that's usually the reasonable person saying "nah, don't beat that niggaz ass, it's not worth it." And I'm usually the one that's willing to drive when my niggaz is bent, and their hungry (Don't act like yall don't know what I'm talkin about. ;-) ) Sadly, I'm caught between satisfying my family, my friends, my professors, my peers, and even that random girl who wouldn't talk to me if I wasn't normal. So these realities keep me from truly attempting to experience life at it's fullest by actually being the face in the crowd that's not just another face in the crowd. So for now, I guess I'll have to settle for just being a little different, because being at least a little different is better than not being different at all, right?