|The Other Office.|
I’m so fuckin happy. With like… life in general. I’m alive. *shrugs* I do what I want. *shrugs* I pay all my bills. *shrugs* I can only ask but for so much at 23. “It’s alright, you’re 50,” she’d said. There’s only one girl younger than me at the office, but she’s about a foot and a half taller than me –that doesn’t say much but no one can ever call her a little old woman. & They’ve already started in on me. It’s cool, though, because she’s just like me except for one minor detail. She acts like she’s old & married because she has a boyfriend. I act old & married because I pretend to be –it’s my ideal situation. I also pretend to have 10 karats on my finger & sometimes wear a demo to test it out. There’s no shame in my game.
Everyday, I realize a little more how much I don’t need niggas in my life. Not personally anyway. I love the presence of men –I enjoy their company thoroughly –but these niggas are more of a headache than popular opinion would lead one to believe. You all have no idea what I’ve been going through. Remember xxxxxxxx? He had this internal “I don’t deserve you” struggle I couldn’t put up with. When a person says they’re not good enough for you, they’re not. That’s why he showed up to lunch with a “mark” on his neck that was “nothing.” After Christmas. Never trust someone who doesn’t even trust themselves. He was instructed to lose my number 😉 Kendell keeps calling. I changed him name in my phone to “Ignore”. Every night I get private calls. I had to find out to use the “reject number” feature on my phone cuz of this nigga. I don’t even like technology like that but.. had to get my learn on –I refuse to change my number for a nigga. I believe that if I say don’t call me, you shouldn’t call me. Herb-ass niggas (lol I’m so glad HollyWood reminded me of those.). Truth is I don’t really like to publicly embarrass men on here, but it’s out. of. control. Never mind the fact that it’s more like dealing with children. I’m more irritated by the idiocy than upset. More confused by their inability to… do what needs to be done when it should be done. Never till it’s too late, huh boys? I’ve never experienced such a practical example of supply and demand. I’ve got no patience left… now everybody wants it.
I’m drained. They make my head hurt and my back ache. & not in no good way. There’s no reason for a man to call me at work trying to make up. If a man calls you at work because you won’t answer your phone, he has no respect. He has no respect for you and no respect for money. Kendell never really cared about my job anyhow –I never told him what I do, but some how he felt superior to me while he spent his day picking up trash at the museum on 125th. Fuck my good heart. I try to make expections for these niggas –breaking my own rules– and I end up where I told myself I would end up. That is why I listen to me more now 🙂 Since you don’t know all the details, please don’t try to build my timeline in your head, just know that Kendell’s calls tend to begin with “I know it’s been 3 months but…” smh. herb. I heard him out for the first time in months — I need him to say what he needed to say so I could tell him to stop callin my fucking phone –and had to listen to him reminisce about “coming home” to me after work. First off nigga, you didn’t pay NO BILLS in this muthafucka. Home, my nigga? Negative. & Secondly, I hated the shit, now that I think back. It’s not that I have a problem cooking & cleaning & doing laundry… but this man expected it. You all might not know the details but me & this dude only spoke for two weeks. You try to be a good person and these niggas walk all over you. You try to be “wifey type” and they simply consider it a legal form of slavery. This man thought he owned me. I had to get out. I remember the day he asked me for $20 for a sack. I had to get out fast.
There’s the thing: It’s not that a woman like to be treated like trash, but it’s better than being able to walk all over a man. Kendell used to be more masculine before I showed him I don’t give a fuck who he is –whole time biting my tongue so that I wouldn’t tell him what he’ll never be. That’s what people fail to notice with me –there is so much left unsaid. I leave the drama right where it begins. & while I seem cold & heartless now, it’s a significant upgrade from the bitch I used t be. They expect me to fight and argue and hold on without understanding that I’ve already done enough of that. I’ve fought enough niggas. I can’t anymore. Like… really. The thought of the stress makes my body ache –I’m not playing when I say that. That’s why I can’t deal with anyone I know. That’s why I live in a fantasy. In my head, they way I dream it up, people fall in love without two words and runaway & elope (VEGAS, baby.). If it’s love. CinderELLA is still waiting on prince. If it never happens it never happens, but I’m sure I’ll avoid plenty stress. In reality, though, I don’t fear ending up alone. My “loneliness” at this point is completely by choice. Giving out my card has only lured in the dirtiest of them all –men who pretend to have an interest in my work only to find out they’re more concerned with the existence of my vagina. From the niggas who call with nothing to say to the men who make plans with me they can’t afford. The “lunchers” who want to be friends, the friends who’ll eat if you ask. The ones you can kick out after a lick & those who won’t leave cuz they’re stuck. & xxxxxxxx didn’t know what to do with it. I’m not sure what I expected from him, but when I tell him there’s a nigga who likes to use his hands & show up at my door at 9:30am, he would consider checking in with me on the weekends. Nah. He had better shit to do. & he did. So he couldn’t be around… but not a phone call? Nah. Problem with xxxxxxx is that he was a regular young nigga who got a chick pregnant. He was smart enough to end the relationship with her, but on our last night together, I found out he was paying her way through school. I mean, that’s cool. That’s kind of him, but I simply can’t involve myself self with so much financially invested in other people he was also emotionally invested in. That’s when I realized that him complaining about paying every time we went out was, in truth, because this bitch needs to pay for a lab? Nah. Me? I’m strrraaaiiiighhhhht, homie.
I’m back, bitches. Back on my grind –and that’s the best art about it all. I dediate all of my time to myself. I take longer baths. I’m more patient with my hair. (It’s been coming out really good lately.) I’ve switched from lotion to baby oil & I like the result so far. (You have to baby oil while you’re still wet. It’s umm… interesting & does keep my skin softer for longer). I got @ClosetJane‘s nail care kit in the mail Friday & I can’t wait to begin my regimen. I treat myself right. I make myself 3 course meals because I deserve it. (Really, tonight I just had applesauce as my appetizer & an ice cream up for desert lol, but I made ziti w/ shrimp & broccoli in a butter, garlic & parmesan sauce — what have you done for you lately?) I feel blessed. I listened to myself explaining my schedule to @AyoBossBitch_ (follow my homie, yo!) as we both heard me out I admired myself. I’m trying. I don’t know the full scope of what Im doing or where it’s going, but I just need it to go somewhere. Anywhere. Because I love this bog shit, forreal. Any free time I have, I dedicate it to this blog –and even sometime I don’t have. I lock myself in my room all weekend because… I gotta do something. I have to write. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m supposed to do, and for that reason, I dedicate myself to it. You see, I’m the type to disappear and people like to call & complain. Or they call & ask. Either they assume I need company but I don’t– or they need company and I just don’t have the time for it. “Where you been?” they ask. Frankly, I don’t like people keeping tabs on my unless it’ll affect my compensation. Don’t clock me if you don’t pay me, is how I feel. “Stranger,” they call me. Then why are you hitting me up? I don’t talk to strangers & neither should you. I hold my tongue more than I want to. Niggas don’t know that because, in truth, niggas don’t know me.
I’m grown. Which means, I handle my business, but my business has been handled. Momentary satisfaction doesn’t do it for me. I’ve lived too many days on this earth to overlook the fact that tomorrow is another day. My actions today are my life tomorrow. I stopped fucking up a while ago –on various levels: The way I walk, the way I talk. Meaning the shit I say and the way I carry myself. I have a clearer sense of my self-worth and power that lies between my thighs. Typically, I don’t speak sex, but perhaps that’s the issue. There’s are too may living room conversations about how good this on and that one was (but probably more along the lines of how good they weren’t) instead of conversations about self-respect. About restraint. About using what you were given to make the world go round. The moment you let go of that which makes you prized, your allure is lost. Everyone likes expensive things. Perhaps not because they’re more expensive… perhaps their just of higher quality. No one likes trash. & some people are okay with used shit… but you get tired of it after a while. If you need to take the time to reinvent yourself, I encourage you to do so. I know they say you can’t turn a hoe into a housewife, so why would you pick the former? There’s always time to better yourself, though. Still, you should start that betterment regiment ASAP.
I’m not interested in people. Friendship doesn’t do it for me. Business? I love business. Anyone who thinks they may eat off of my why the spoils come in is mistaken. I’ll put everyone on the payroll, you’ve got to put in work, though. I’ll attend any event you want, I need my name on the list, though. I work all week so I mainly do weekends. Still no matter the day of the week, or how much I like to party, Ella makes it home early. I love my job & I love my blog. I love my little family and my dwindling friends. My mom is my ride-or-die & my sister’s my best friend, so at the end of the day, I need nothing but them. The best way to focus on your business is to focus on your business. 100% at the least. Anyone who complains to you about time doesn’t understand your grind. I know that I’ll have to end up with a person who will just shut the fuck up for a couple of hours and if I can’t find that now, hey *shrugs* tough. I can’t waste anymore time because 5 years from now, I’l look back on the time I could have been getting my name out and my shit together, instead I spent it wrapped up with some niggas who’s not even around anymore. Imagine that? smh.
HollyWood of @Eastbrookfamily‘s review for his 24:7 Mixtape.
(in the way I wanted to do it) so it was an intense day for me.
REVIEW of 24:7
Check him out though. His music gave me life recently.