Thoughts that will probably never be published

Nostalgia

Spell check works well at masking the fact that most of us can't even spell anymore. #newmillenniumshit.

I went over my friends house on Friday and I feel like his house is a black hole because every time I go over there all of these fuckin memories come back. 

Or maybe we just had such great times there...like no where else. 

Life was simpler. 

We were just a bunch of "kids" running around Harlem like we owned it and running from adulthood because we knew it was overrated and all that matter was the moment. 

Pure joy.

His room looks so different now. The walls are painted. The comfy bed that THEY all piled in was replaced and there was an actual BED! Instead of just a mattress. 

So.many.bodies.were had in that bed.

So many secrets and questionable WTF moments. 

Diversity and inclusion and retention are so interesting.

Buzz words if nothing else. 

Nice to haves. Halves.

Like...do you know what it actually takes to keep us.

Do you even care?

Doubt it.

Because if you cared it wouldn't take months to get time on your calendar. 

People make time for what they want to make time for. 

But then again they're probably just trying to stay afloat too. 

Because after all...who really has it all figured out. 

Such big shoes to walk in. 

Like chunky paten-leather high black boots.

Bangs.

Brillance and

quirky phrases.

Praises and

promotions to wear bigger shoes and try on bigger hats and wear a bigger target on your back.

Spotlight. 

Center stage on Fishbowl.

Always having something to prove must be exhausting. 

Can't we just be?

Can't I just B?

Cardi's new song Be Careful is clear as day about an avoidant ass fuck boy who didn't value her and played too many games. Like too 👏fuckin👏many👏games.

That felt personal didn't it?

It was.

Very.

Nah's text messages no longer get responded to. 

Because...TIME'S UP!

NO👏ONE👏HAS👏TIME👏FOR👏THE👏GAMES👏

Yep.

Still personal.

And to the first boy that really broke my heart...

And I mean...made me say FUCK IT! I'm going to do them like you did me. 

Sorry to all of the thems.

I was hurt and didn't know better.

But I'm sure you're good.

None of you were really good anyways.

And probably fucked me up more than I fucked you up. 

(Why is this happy ass music on?!)

NEXT please!

Jamaica taught me things about life. about the world. about myself. about the region that I'll never forget. Some of my shit is still there. Auntie you can give it away. It'll take me too long to get it. 

Bumpy roads.

Missing teeth. 

Blue waters.

Rice and peas and fried chicken with gravy and hills and goats and accents and tacky curtains and ugly dollies and Ting and roast breadfruit and rain and the smell of rain and kissing under the stars and candles and spells and bible thumping sinners and mateys and no morals and 'one stop driver' and trips to Porty for overpriced everything but cheap candy and Cubans on the marina and doctors. Oh! And spotty wifi and Digicel Top Ups and beggars. Smh.

What is home?

Where is home?

Who is home?

Safe spaces. safe arms and covered.

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you. I was in love with your words.

"Pussy poet"

But you didn't get any.

I went back to school but listened to your voice every single day for months. 

intoxicating. 

You have some dope spirits who walk with you. 

I wish you weren't so critical and complained so much about a bunch of nothingness. 

We get it. You're smart. Cool.

You still give some of the best hugs in Brooklyn.

Brooklyn's baby boy. 

Beautiful butterfly.

I think that was my eBay password once. 

It was also a corny ass nickname this old head gave me in 2013. 

Thanks for putting up with me and my mood swings. 

I was changing though. 

Finding myself again and shaking off the vultures from LA and whatever I brought back from Cuba and figuring out what my Brooklyn looked like. 

In and out.

Hold the burger joint.

I don't think about him a lot. 

And you would think after being friends for 10 years, you would think about somebody, right?

Not when it's like PTSD.

Trauma comes in different forms.

Not so obvious.

Abuse is abuse.

Free form.

Shout out to my Tribe.

I miss you.

The love was/is real.

I still pray for each and every one of you even though it's been years since we've spoken. 

Time flies when you're out in the world living. 

I tried to hold on to you for as long as I could.

But one of the hardest things in life that I've had to learn and to let you go.

Being a spiritual being...intentionally walking in the light...on the path...

is not for the faint at heart. 

I've left my heart all over the world.

I've dropped a lot of tears too.

Sometimes my heart was so full I couldn't contain the joy and I exploded. 

I think that's what I miss the most. 

There's a difference between being of the world and in the world.

Currently in the world and low-key (HI-KEY) hate it.

Freedom.

Wanted.

Being in the world is a lot of responsibility.

I'll dip out soon enough. 

My heart will burst into tiny pieces. 

Like micro stars.

Is that even a thing?

Sure is since I said it!

EvE used to be my favorite rapper. 

On the low though.

Moms was not feeling me listening to hardcore rap.

but little did she know I was an underground chatroom battle rapper.

even got offered a fake ass record deal!

I had a whole other life in those chatrooms.

Meanwhile I was 10 and being too grown. 

some things never change. 

Fatin. 

He used to call me that when he wanted me to pay attention.

LOL.

Again...being grown. 

I learned the hard way what happens when you don't take your shot.

Or when you take it too late.

What's for you is for you.

and what's not...

AIN'T!

I shot my shot.

Didn't work out.

But I'm still playing basketball though!

BALLIN!!!

You're an asshole btw. 

Like who DOES that?

Jerk.

You mad?

YUP.

Science helped answer the questions and solve the problems I, spirit, truth, wasn't able to.

READ ATTACHED.

READ ATTACHED.

Should I say it again?

READ👏MUTHA👏FUCKIN👏ATTACHED!!!!!!

Be more secure babygirl.

He ain't shit anyways.

Keep👏it👏movin'👏son!!!

I should probably get my hair done on Wednesday. 

I have things to do this weekend. 

Oh and READ BIG MAGIC!

I'm so magical.

Like...better than a unicorn.

Tiffany Haddish is hilarious.

Spillin alllllll that damn tea.

NDA boo.

N

D

A

She missed the memo.

But the Beehive will send it to her. 

Sigh.

I think we're sleepy.

Gym in the AM?

Maybe.

Eat a snack orrrrrr look like a snack?

Aaaaaaaaaaayyyyeeee.

Brooklyn ain't the same without you.

March you funny.

Got me thinkin.

All in my feelins and shit.

HAHA.

You played yaself.

What a BAM BAM!

4:44

This is basically a small glimpse into my brain and how my mind works.

Like what you see?

Come back for more.

For me.

Come.

Back.

Under utilized. Over allocated on bullshit.

Just give me the Cannes already.

✌🏽

P.S. I wrote something.

And I feel really good about it.

Sunflower emojis are my favorite.

They remind me of Cuba.

And to smile.

And that time I gave Aja a handful of them on her birthday.

And when I learned why I give.

And to give because you want to but not because you expect something back.

In another life I probably did wrong by someone.

Or I was a Mother Teresa type with a Pachino mind.

And I'm just trying to get it right in this lifetime.

I just gotta get it right in this lifetime.

Break the bonds.

Break the chains.

Start over.

You can do it.

100 ancestors walk with you.

Feed then.

Coco was a dope ass film.

Don't forget me Coco.

🌻