Allergic to beef.

Where to begin? I'm sitting at home, my 5th day here. I haven't left Tema, I haven't seen anyone. I haven't really communicated with human beings & I'm a little okay with that.

In a way I understand that this time is severely needed & if I had more options, i.e.; my car, I would've ran like a fast little whore all over the city. I needed to slow down before I killed myself & my vagina with that thing.

This forced time has given me the clarity to see clearly how I must conduct myself in the face of the problems ahead of me. For example.

My fuck buddy wants my best friend.

Let me rephrase. My “Ex” fuck buddy? The “We're more than friends.” one? Wants my best friend. Or at least that's what my instinct is telling me. I know, the shock, the horror, how could I be accusing without any solid proof? What am I? A fucking fool?

I Sherlocked my ass outta this shit. Please. I also had a dream, those first few times of fucking with this boy, who was & is in all honesty pretty lovely sexually, but at the same time, he's not really my type, but back to the dream. This dream was basically a mirror of what I believe I witnessed.

A nigga was trying my girl.

I woke up & brushed it off like it was an utterly ridiculous idea, the sex blinded me. My own pussy blinded me. If I have one thing to tell my daughters when they go out into the “Fucking” world?

Don't put nothing past a nigga.

Straight.

I really try to curb my enthusiasm for my instinct, because I really do believe that my ancestors let a nigga know where to step day in & day out but conditioning forces me to question myself. It's hard being amazing. I'm too aware of it now. But some things you just cannot ignore & when your solar plexus flairs & your mind is suddenly yelling “ABORT MISSION”.

Time to move on Kitty Kat.

Everything goes back to Beyonce.

It was a very quick discovery, a couple of stolen glances caught by me in the middle of a session, the way the light flickered off his eyes was just maddening & suddenly a cold hand slid a finger down my spine.

He was eye fucking her.

I looked to my right & slowly picked up my heels. Careful not to rush & absorb anymore of his conflicted attention. My girl, bless her heart, was oblivious in one of her “Spoilt Brat Rules The World” tantrums. But I tried to share what little I could.

Shoes on & she looks up & asks me what I'm doing & why.

I answer;

“I had a dream once that just came true. I'm going to go smoke on it.”

She didn't understand. I never expect anyone to. I glided past him with ease, throwing my destination over my shoulder. I wore heels that day, heels help when your ego takes a hit. They remind you as you stomp away, the power in your legs vibrating all the way up to the sway of your hips that you are a fucking Stallion.

Queen coming through.

Luckily all the hickies he had left on me had faded by then so I didn't have a physical reminder of how disgustingly brilliant it was. I don't think the brilliance will be universal though. It was great for me, because he had certain quirks that worked for me.

He left marks, no one ever left marks. No one ever made me like to hurt.

There was a lot of passion in that boy.

The thing is, was it passion for me? Or just the generic pussy?

You have to ask that question, because men do get that confused. I don't have to like you to fuck you nor do you have to even know my name to fuck me.

Let's be realistic.

Is it wrong for me to want to know? To want to make that distinction?

I'm a pretty ass girl. I'm young. I'm black. I'm a fucking genius. Why shouldn't I ask? Why should you be good enough?

Men have made me shallow, but today I found that balance. My ego has suffered dearly from this blow, because my ego NEVER gets hit. EVER.

Ever?

Ever.

But, there's a first time for everything. You have to roll with the punches, keep swimming, there ain't nothing else you can do but continue.

It's very British of me isn't it?

Smile & continue.

Naked is always honest.

---

“So you don't want to fuck?”

He looked like a child. So small & insignificant, almost scared of me. If the situation hadn't have been so ridiculous I would've laughed looking at him.

He looks even further away from me & replies;

“I don't know.”

Without a thought, I closed the door on ever knowing him & put my clothes on. As I danced & dressed to The Cool by myself in the darkness I thanked God for another day & another chance to never let a fool like this get this close to me again.

I walk to my car & he follows me.

Beseeching me to stay, saying I should wait until the sun comes up.

“The roads are clear now though.”

I look him dead in the eye. He looks away.

“Why did you fuck me last night then? I didn't come here with the intention of fucking you. I just came to smoke & chill. Maybe work on our completely fractured friendship. Maybe try & be cool with you again.

But then I tell you about another nigga & all of a sudden you want to nose dive out the friend zone on some sucka shit? Knowing that I haven't had sex? Knowing that I wouldn't say no? Because you know me man. You should fucking know me & you shouldn't have done this to me!”

He gets defensive.

“You keep talking like I did this on purpose, we were high. It just happened, I mean I'm not blaming on the weed but yeah..”

I almost swing.

“WE WERE HIGH? How long have we been smoking? How many times a day do you tweet that 'Don't blame drugs on your stupid decisions'? & now in the face of it you won't even take responsibility for your own fuck up?

When you asked me if I wanted to fuck? I wasn't even sure if you were being serious. I wasn't even sure if you were referring to me fucking you. I didn't know. But free dick! Is free dick! & I don't see why you should give me that whack ass dick & call it a day. It felt like I was fucking a dead fish.

I think to ask for one last round in the morning so you can redeem myself & I can go home & never speak to you again & you give me this 'We weren't supposed to fuck' nonsense?

Yeah. We weren't. But we fucking did & if you're gonna do it? You better fucking do it well.

& I cried to you, I complained to you, I asked you for advice, I told you that niggas have been fucking with me & sex lately, that shit has gotten so complicated for some reason & how I can't even get simple dick & then you turn around & do the same thing?

I wasn't even thinking about you. The entire time I was wishing it was him, I was wanting him, I was praying for him, you were so fucking weak, you sexually repressed me! & you won't even make up for it?”

“I didn't do it on purpose & this isn't complicated. We used to be cool & then we weren't, so I made up my mind not to fuck you”

“& that is not complicated? You just say a loaded sentence & call it a day? Am I a fool? You? The whore that you are? Saying no to pussy? & it's not complicated?

Fuck you & fuck your ego, you bitch fuck boy.”

10 minutes later I was high & hazy on the motorway.
Homeward bound.
& wanting to cut a bitch.

Watch out. Still do.

---

Fuck - Kid Frankie
Fuck – Sup
Kid Frankey - =)
Kid Frankey – I'm cool, how you?
Fuck – G.o.o.d. Touchdown next week.
Kid Frankey – Oh word?
Fuck – Yep
Kid Frankey – That's good. Haven't really been able to stop thinking about fucking you for a while now.
Fuck - :O
Fuck - -now running-
Kid Frankey – It's true. I can't help it. Really? It's annoying. Like when I'm at work? Really Fuck, get out of my head.
Fuck - :O
Fuck – Wow
Kid Frankey – Where are you running to?
Fuck – Not sure. Just running. You sound like you want to tear me apart.
Kid Frankey – At all. Just telling the truth. I might hate you as soon as I see you. You never know.
Fuck – K. Hope you good though.
Kid Frankey – I'm cool. I just don't like you Fuck. I want you to know that & I don't like that I'm still thinking about you simply because of the sexual shortcomings of others. It's not fair.
Kid Frankey – So excuse my hostility. But you frustrate me.
Fuck – Okay.
Kid Frankey – Laters babes.
Fuck – Understood.

Keep it funky. At all times. No matter what.

There is nothing shameful about the truth.

---

I never really find honesty in men in this country. Not when my pussy is added to the equation at least. It discourages me & weakens my spirit but then, I wake up in the morning & look at how the sun lights up my skin, I stand up & look in the mirror & remember how far we've come as my eyes trail the curve of my back.

Oh no. Not I. 20 Feet Tall Queen Amazon Lioness. Smell me?

Dishonesty is my kryptonite though. Even the little white lies. No matter how embarrassing the truth is. It's better than that ugly, ugly, ugly lie.

Lies hurt. I hope I remember that.

--

I haven't put on any clothes since the night before last. I simply refuse to, I haven't had a “home” in so long, it's refreshing to vegetate in your own area. Clean your own area. Smoke in your own area. Pray & write in your own area. Create in your own area. There is just so much to achieve when you are completely comfortable.

& all my clothes are in one place! Finally! Oh finally. I got myself a nice little walk in closet. My clothes looks so pretty hung up, like decorations. I have a great collection of pieces & I keep my things very well.

There are dresses in here from those goth days in high school that I still rock.

I love that my weight didn't fluctuate all crazy. I always fit my clothes. Right now I love my weight the most. I've been following a blood type diet. I'm Type O. The oldest blood type available. I sort of feel like it's a confirmation of my old soul theory.

So I've been drinking nothing but soy milk, eating a lot of fish. No dairy, very little carbohydrates.

My skins feeling great, my bodies feeling great & I'm actually getting hungry on a regular basis now.

I feel healthier. Things are looking up.

Go me.