Castles Made of Sand...

"So Castles Made of Sand, Fall into the Sea Eventually"
~Jimi Hendrix

If there was an apt description of what the past calendar year would look like, 2013 could best be described as a heavy wave washing away every single thing I built on my little beach called life. With the exception of my children (and even that was washed away as it related to Youngest Heir), and a few scattered allies, NOTHING remains. To give a more vivid picture if the sandcastle example isn't enough, my city (life) looks like Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped. However, I think the image of the sandcastle is most appropriate if for no other reason there is a certain theological context that I will explore. 

But more on that in a minute.

So what did this tidal wave of destruction take in 2013? What exactly was washed into the sea? A number of things which were integral to my existence and happiness: My church home, my best friend, the one person I truly loved and desired, my job, my emotions, my natural home, and in some cases my faith. I'm sure in time these things can be replaced. There will be other jobs and a career from it, my faith is already slowly being restored due to my time in Seminary. Another Church home can be found, new allies made, and even as painful as it is to type, the love I lost (or gave away) can be replaced. I even will have a better place to live. So that's good. Yet that still doesn't explain the why. Why all that transpired happened. There are two simple reasons for this: one spiritual and one not so spiritual. Let's explore them both.

The first and most obvious reason was that on some level God either caused the storm or allowed it to happened. I believe the reason for this is that God needed to see what my infrastructure was made up of in a barren season. In order to achieve this, like so many men of faith before me, God had to make me Anonymous. You see according to Alicia Britt Chole, author of Anonymous: Jesus' Hidden Years and Yours, every so often God needs to see what our roots and branches look like. God needs to see how sturdy we are and thus the excess in our lives (think tree leaves: are stripped away. Once my coverings and trappings were gone, would I survive this test or would I crumble. At the core lie two simple questions that would yield two simple answers: 1) On what ground did I build my faith and 2) Where did I store my treasures?  To the first, the honest answer are that I built my home/faith on sand. I did not obey God in a lot of areas in spite of being sent messengers, signs, and instructions. The response to the second question is even more direct: my treasures stored were no where near heaven. They were in that unstable beach house I put on the sand. In effect, I had become lazy. My infrastructure weak and bloated; like a corrupt city entity I had become self serving and began to take Christ for granted. Thus in essence while I was sprouting leaves I bore no fruit. As the scripture points out, I needed to be put in a whole lot of manure in order to grow. There was no better way to cover me in the mess I needed than to remove the sand castles I was hiding in. But I knew better. On these matters Jesus is clear where to build your home and where to store your treasures. So snarky one reading this, since there are NO social promotions in the Kingdom of God, since there are no sliding or curves I get to rebuild. This time one proper ground and storing my treasures where they belong. 

The second reason is more natural but no less true. Nothing was really taken from me. By not following the instructions in the manual I willingly gave it away. I was not supposed to return to my church. I was supposed to move on. I was supposed to do my best in Arkansas, I got lazy. I was supposed to be more mindful of the needs of my allies and our joint boundaries and I wasn't. I should have never let her go. But I did. I should have told EVERYBODY to fudge off and begged her forgiveness but I didn't. I chose people and a space that is now long gone. Mine was one of hubris. Mine was thinking I knew best. It was the never ending fatal flaw that has brought me to ruin before: arrogance. Nothing was really taken. I gave it all away by not following the rules. This is the truth I take to bed every night.


But what do I do with these realizations? While it is true, I survived, but as one who survived the fire (or in this case a typhoon). But survival isn't necessarily what all this is about. This is about a mature Christian using bad materials, on bad ground, which happened to store his treasures that got washed into the sea.  So the first realization that I need to rebuild, following the instructions laid out. I don't know what's best all the time, if ever really and by not following the plan I'm going to continually get my ish washed into the sea. Yet an underlying theme to in this is something I never really allowed myself to do: grieve. Part of the reason I came out of blog retirement is to write these pure lamentations so I can later write songs of jubilee. It is time that I deal with all the pain in my life; it's especially time I dealt with all the residual scars, the crushed dreams, the guilt and the utter sadness. That's what I am putting on my cross this Good Friday. This is what I am burying in that tomb so that on Sunday I can rise a different man. But I understand the process of the crucifixion. This hurts. It means part of me will have to die so the rest of me can rise. We all have to go through it in some form or another...

For me this process involved learning one simple truth:

"Castles made of sand...slip into the sea....eventually"

Giving Honor to My Creator, who is forever praised, Amen

In Truth and Transparency,
Straight, No Chaser
TLT
4/18/2014
8:56pm

Revolutions and Rotations: Starting Back at One

So you been on fast train, and it's gone off the rails" 

~Fast Train by Solomon Burke

This month I celebrated my 38th birthday. Like countless birthdays before it, I am celebrating the revolution and rotation in the aftermath of a crisis, specifically losing my gig at Philander Smith College and having to reverse relocate back to Chicago. While my birthday itself was fabulous, the rest of this season has left me lacking words. I just know that  I am wounded, hurt, and embarrassed.

 Yet at the same time I don't understand these feelings. Surely I have overcome so much and beaten odds worse than this. In fact in my entire life I have only failed to "answer the bell" once, and that was the heartbreak courtesy of the Gypsy Soror (that lead me running to Christ). I survived two parents death,  I have been fired before, and I have been on the bench before. So why is this current situation thisclose to making me tap out? What the hell is wrong with me that I am in a funk and depression over a relatively light situation?

Is it because I fell like a total failure? I never expected to return to Chicago with everything reset to zero. I always expected to return at the top. I cried for years to get to the big dance and when I did, after two years I wash out? What is going through the mind of my natural and adopted children? My peers? My enemies? I am afraid to know. I won't discuss this with my heirs and I haven't reached out seriously to any of my PSC babies. I worry how I look in their eyes.

I am struggling with the notion of pride. My sons and I are in need yet I won't ask for help. Serious help. I can bs ask for stuff on Facebook all day, but real stuff I just can't. Men don't ask for help right? We solider through. We press. All we got is our word, our rep, and our pride. Yet the Bible teaches pride is a bad thing. God hates the proud. I am confused by this. Can I ask for others hand and it not be tossed back in my face? My manhood and competency questioned? What lesson is this for the boys? I don't know.

I am struggling with anger. Yeah I made some mistakes, naturally and spiritually, but did you have to reset it back to zero Lord? What did I do to have to return to a place I ran from, and return broken and defeated no less? I know I thought about moving back at one point but I could have sworn you said no. So why bring me back now? Like this? Clearly I missed a lesson so what is it?  I get my calling isn't on that front of struggle anymore. I know what you want me to do with my gift and talents. But how can I do it now? 

I swear this must be how Barksdale felt in season 3 of The Wire. Or more historically this gotta be how Liu Bei felt as he laid depressed and dying at Bai Castle after the battle of Yi Ling. How can one be so close yet so far from the title? Man this stuff can wreck faith and that's the one thing I can't afford to lose as it will undoubtedly lead to the sickness unto death. But I swear if this was The Wire...the montage from season 3 would totally fit my mood (Solomon Burke's "Fast Train").  

I get as long as I am alive I have another day to do it right. I get the story isn't finished. I get something greater later and all that, but right now I am so disconnected it aint funny. I have no clue where to start and can't get enough quiet time to think. I need to figure this thing out because my familia, my friends, and my heirs are watching. My testimony is on trial here. Yeah in the natural and in the spiritual streets are watching. I just gotta figure out where to start because as of this writing I am at zero on all levels and descending rapidly. 

I guess I can start here:

Thank you God for another year. Thank you for my heirs and heiress. Thank you for my PSC babies. Thank you for my network.  Thank you for people who love me. Thank you for an awesome first six months. Thank you for giving me a blessed and special birthday. Just thank you. I love you. I am yours. 

Giving honor to my creator, who is forever praised amen,

In truth and transparency 

Already

TLT

8-25-2013

8:15pm 

Reflections on Zhuge Liang and Wei Yan: Two guys in a lunatic asylum

"(S)He was a powerful general..."~Raekwon

"Insanity:doing the same thing over and over again and
expecting different results."~Albert Einstein

I lost recently lost a friend. Our season (I believe) has finally ended.

Actually she was more than a friend to me if I can be totally honest, although I don't think she quite discerned that. After a very polemic four year dynamic, the last year full of non stop stress, our foundation finally collapsed. I guess this is the resolution I prayed for having taken the matter to the alter a number of times and earnestly asking God to either resolve our conflict or remove her from my life. I believe he did the latter based on what I am sure were mutual prayers: he ended our season. Of course being humans we compounded this sad moment with words that were straight up evil. I guess then it is as it should be.

So why do I feel like total crap today?

I'll be the first to admit that the dynamic between myself and Wei Yan was far from perfect. We both have committed acts towards each other that would make the U.S. and Al Queda beef seem mild by comparison. I know I have used this woman to further my agenda, I've thrown her under the bus, pulled her in front of a bullet for two for me, actively sought to replace her on numerous occasions in the rudest of manner, I used her for my own needs, at times disregarded hers and didn't always defend her to my most loved ones. Conversely, she has to be one of the single biggest reasons I've lost serious creditability in some circles, namely with T.G.S. during a most critical time last year. She slept with one of my boys, tried to whack me at least twice and during the LSC and DOF joined with the chorus of others that laughed, mocked and danced on my (or so they thought) grave. My closest brother hated her, most of my friends hated her, and at times I hated her. Even as I write this down I have all the reasons right here to be glad this season is over.

So why do I feel like total crap today?

T.G.S. once referred to situations like this as "the bullsheet you know". My Chief of Staff likened my dynamic to an addiction, and my late mother who liked her a lot often worried about our gross dysfunction. It all made sense when I swore for the last time she would tell me to "die" and I would still talk to her. I swore that I would let her ultimatum deadline pass without a word, say my goodbyes and allow her to test the free agent market. I felt good doing it.

But over the weekend I got to remembering the good times, the times where we laughed. The times where we both held each other and discussed the world. I remembered how she helped make the 30th conference a success. I remember how when I gave my luncheon presentation she was the first person to greet me as I collapsed in her arms, tearful that my father couldn't see me shine. I remembered her helping me get to wal-mart to get my dying father what he needed, then begging me to make peace with him before he died (I did and I am thankful for that). I thought of our romantic moments. I thought (and still think) of her children, esp number #3 that I adore as my own. I reflected on how she often worried about my sons and my mother; I remember her checking on the Queen mother often more than I did. I remember all of those things that made us happy and I weigh what good against was bad and I get....

Zero. -100+100=0. I can't fudge the numbers even if I wanted to.

It balances out. It is zero. Our evil equally matches our good and I am not sure that is love. Or if it is love I don't know what that means. I told a dear friend just Friday that I believe strongly in the comparative analysis in situations like this and the question of "why we couldn't get it done in four years" is valid esp when I was thisclose to marrying somebody else in a matter of months. What where we lacking, could we ever obtain it and would the scales ever balance out. I do believe Wei Yan to be a great woman, a beautiful mother and a gentle soul. I am not sure I brought those qualities out in her any more than she brought out the best in me. Elkketia, despite being her one voice of support in my space often said "TLT, yall season is over. Both of you just are keeping it on life support. Only God can save it now." I felt this was right on....

but
today
I feel
like crap.

In church this morning my Pastor talked about the devil using our insecurities to make us second guess God's blessing and decisions. The devil plants these seeds in our head, makes us wanna back track to what we left; we do so then disqualify ourselves from our blessings. He makes us leave too soon or too late and before we know it we've committed spiritual suicide. If this is the resolution that has been set before me based on at least my prayers for an answer, I can't disqualify myself going backwards. I can't allow harsh words on the Internet likening us "to watching paint dry" or "a waste of time and life" to make me feel like I did something wrong. Yall, I tried a million different ways from Sunday to make this work, and neither of us could agree on terms that were "fair market value". It would have been the easy path, the wide road to just settle and I just couldn't; I firmly believe the wide path leads to destruction and settling leads to sinking and after four years our scales equal zero. I know Pastor was correct. I can't second guess this. Still this reminds me of a joke:

See, there were these two guys in a lunatic asylum... and one night... one night they decide they don't like living in an asylum any more. They decide they’re going to escape! So like they get up on to the roof, and there, just across the narrow gap, they see the rooftops of the town, stretching away in moon light... stretching away to freedom. Now the first guy he jumps right across with no problem. But his friend, his friend daren't make the leap. Y'see he's afraid of falling... So then the first guy has an idea. He says "Hey! I have my flash light with me. I will shine it across the gap between the buildings. You can walk across the beam and join me." But, the second guy just shakes his head. He says... he says "What do you think I am, crazy? You would turn it off when I was half way across."~Joker The Killing Joke 1988

Did I seriously just use a joke from a graphic novel between two mortal enemies to describe this dynamic? My mother would say the proof is in the pudding, right there an answer reveled. Indeed we are mirror images and that might have been the single biggest reason to walk on by(e). It's even scarier when I can find "us" in both historical and fictional dysfunctional dynamics. We're Batman and Joker, Zhuge and Wei Yan, MacArthur and Truman, David and Michal, I mean come on..geesh. That says a lot. A whole lot. And going back to the earlier point: the numbers don't lie. We balanced out...right back to point A.

*pause*
Before I continue, I would like to take this moment to announce the elimination of the S5 position. It has caused more problems that what it is worth; it leads to complex dynamics and it was this position's "ease" that enabled us to lie to each other about what we wanted and agree to a contract that was bullcrap. That initial lie sowed seeds were weren't ready to reap. At 35, I have no need for anything below an S3. It is time to retire and retire that God awful position.

*play*

Perhaps this is the devil trying to get me to move out of my place, get us to move out of our place and disqualify ourselves. If her words are true and she prayed for a resolution as I did then I can only have faith that this is it. I will not second guess God. These feeling of crap will subside. If not I will simply take it to my elders allow their guidance to help me deal (Jas 5:14).

Now, as painful as it is, or as confused as I may be, I can only say:

"I wish you the best in your future endeavors. I.Wil never forget you."

But today....

Giving honor to my Creator (who is forever praised, Amen)

In Truth and Transparency,

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
8-15-2010
7:50pm

A Sinner's Prayer....and Atonement.

"I'm so that God still hears a sinner's prayer"~Deitrick Haddon

Recently a ghost from my past found me (thanks to my Zeta Tribute blog), to check and see how I have been living the past few years since our brief internship. She felt inclined to reach out because she was shocked that I acknowledged (due to some of my immaturity) we didn't do to well. Curiosity can be like that I guess, it can make you re-visit spaces that otherwise we wouldn't go back to. I am sure this was no different.

As we progressed in the conversation, I explained to her some of my journeys since we last parted company; I also shared with her my (at the time) budding spiritual change and how part of that was confessing sins and leaving it with God. She asked me if I truly was sorry for how I acted towards her and I told her I was. She then asked if I was going to go back and apologize to all of the women I hurt and I let her know that I was not going to do such a thing. I made the point that I left the matter with God, I confessed, and if he saw fit to give me his grace I would accept its (like one has a choice). This isn't a negro version of "My Name is Earl" and I was not going to traverse the country trying to correct karma.

Judging from her text response, and I could be wrong, she didn't seem convinced. I think she felt, like most people would, that I needed to and should go back and make atonement to every single individual otherwise I wronged otherwise my change and redemption wouldn't be valid. Of course from my understanding of the Word doesn't tell me that or even really requires that of me but it did beg a very real question.

In the opening lines of the beautiful song "Sinner's Prayer" Deitrick Haddon sings:

I walked to the church ya'll
on a Sunday morning
stood outside contemplating
whether I should walk through the door
you see a lot of folks know me
from way back when
people holding me to
all those past sins....

...which describes my feelings to the letter. After the utter madness of last year, in which I walked away more bruised, scared, and spiritually dead than anybody else, I do sometimes worry as I pray, go to church and try to actually manifest change in my life if those in my space will accept and believe this moment of awakening; to be honest I also slightly worry if my critics will find this change true. I am sure nothing would please them more than me failing in trying to draw closer to Jesus and live out the life he has promised me. Negroes have a nasty habit of dancing and spiting on my grave.

But I'm not so worried about my critics as I am worried about people in my circle who often treat spiritual matters as something of a fad. I admit folks always swearing they gone do right. I keep hearing about the "old Terrance", or the "Terrance of a few years ago" or even how I was broken last year and asked how a sudden change can happen "all of a sudden."

*pause* And I assure you this did not happen "all of a sudden". This has been a long real process.

*play*

My desire to do better is often met with in different skepticism and it does make doing what I need to do a little harder.

But I can't let this stop me ya know?

I accept that my past is relevant. I often argued that if you forget your past then you don't know your future. I do believe the past can be (if allowed) prologue. I am not saying that if I made a mistake or hurt somebody it should be swept over. NOT AT ALL. But let me illustrate: A person can not get caught stealing from a friend and a few months later attempt to come around and not offer any apology or restitution. But what if that friend who was caught apologizes and then says that they have given the matter to God and demonstrates this change with faith and good works? Can we really still hold that past over such a person? Could we deny that transformation is real based solely on our anger? Will not their faith and actions prove its own point? Should that person care or even try to persuade us? Surely not! At the same time if a person returns engaged in the same ole type of shenanigans they were before then yes you may have to look at the historical record. In essence what I am saying is that I have reaped what I've sown, I've paid the price and now it is time for me to move forward with my life and my walk as a man of God. As arrogant as it sounds (which is not my intent) I really can't be worried that I didn't atone for every little sin because as I said in the beginning I've made peace with who I needed too, My Lord and Savior, and anything else is kinda pointless.

I think what motivates me in this position is the counsel found a Romans 3:23 in which the Apostle Paul writes "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God"; with this wisdom I understand that no matter how bad I've been there are others who have been equally scummy. In this regard I am no different than most people. But it's the Apostle's words in the following verse that lets me know that regardless of how people see my change, this process is real and God approved. Paul goes on to write: "and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came through Christ Jesus." This makes me smile because I understand that in spite of my errors and even in lieu of the (dis)approval of others, my process (grounded in faith) is God approved. As morally praiseworthy as it is to go back and say "Hey I'm sorry" to everybody I hurt it is not morally obligatory. I said I was sorry to who I needed too and with the rest of it I took to God.

Of course grace and forgiveness doesn't give me a free card to go out and commit old sins new ways repeatedly make the same mistakes over and over. Again Paul's counsel is wise in this regard. He tells us: "we are those who died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?" I keep this mind because a major part of this or any shift/ behavior change is the abandonment of ideas and concepts that led to the darkness, the fall and ultimately to the selfish acts which may have hurt others and in fact did hurt others.

The old Terrance is quickly dying off, mortally wounded in a war that should not have been. In his place will rise a man who was broken, but healed, a sinner seeking grace through faith and achieving success everyday.

I can not change what I have done in the past, I can only control what I do now and KNOW that it will impact who I will be in the future...

And that IS and WILL be as a man of God, walking in faith and righteousness...

I sincerely pray that is good enough for you folks...it's good enough for me

And certainly good enough for my Creator (who is forever praised Amen).

In truth and transparency,
Straight, No Chaser
TLT
4-09-2010
4:45pm

Scared, No Skills or Both: Exploring Communication in Relationships.

"Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No';
anything beyond this comes from the evil one."~Matt 5:37 (NIV)

So this afternoon I became engaged in the conversation about "communication" in relationships with two of my beloved sisters on the Council of Ten. Each seemed to be annoyed with the man in their lives who, for whatever reason, seemed unable to effectively communicate; in some cases these men either flat out lied or avoid the conversation on some very serious issues. Since we support each other readily in ALL matters they sought out me for advise on "why do men behave this way."

I confess that as a man who is an excellent, straightforward communicator, that their questions left me dumbfounded. I'm old school and I was trained men should be upfront and say what's on their mind (with respect and tact). I was taught that men shouldn't be afraid to communicate; seriously what is the other party gonna do? Kick your butt? So to me (and I mean their guys no real disrespect) these dudes weren't men or rather weren't acting like men in those moments and I had no logical or illogical answer for them.

I don't want to, in my time spiritual rebirth, to imply all of my communication has been flawless. It has not. On this very blog I have sometimes conveyed the wrong message or allowed the wrong emotion to guide my thinking. I assure you that I've also dropped the ball in my personal life. Shit just last year in a moment of emotional immaturity and using the wrong communication technique I....

Well you know THAT story...

However my point isn't necessary about the flaws of communication. Those things happen. My commentary is on the men who don't communicate and don't try to communicate. Yeah sometimes, due to imperfection and ignance we get the communication wrong but still I think it's downright horrible not to try to communicate.

*pause*
But if I really want to be intellectually honest (I do), then I need to right now include the sisters in this lil rant because yall, can be equally horrible communicators.
*play*

So what is at the heart of this problem. What makes people double talk, hide, refuse to speak up and all other sorts of nonsense. What makes a person hide from or ignore conversations the other person in that shared space deem important.

I thought about this briefly, looking at my own life as a model; I compared my actions on both sides of the fence in an attempt to discern what really is at work during these times.

The answer in my view is quite simple: People who engage in this behavior are emotionally immature as well as emotional cowards. I concede I don't know which is worst: being emotionally immature or an emotional coward. I mean I've been emotionally immature, yet I have never been an emotional coward.

Yet, in this regard they do go hand and hand. 98% of the folks who are emotionally immature I would bet are also emotional cowards and generally this leads to emotional abuse. These people lack the maturity (and by extension the skills) to effectively outline their needs and wants. They don't know how to communicate and problem solve so they hide from any emotional entanglement outside of the basic primal emotions that come out during sex or when they are tearing down the other party emotionally.

*pause*
In another moment of intellectual honesty, I must confess there have been two women in my past, Soror Sage and The Nurse, who would on the surface have fit the notion of an emotional coward (on paper) but that really wasn't the deal. In both of these cases, the sisters dodged conversations with me because they felt my skills at persuasion where that damn good I would have gotten them to reverse their position and come back to something they felt wasn't healthy. Rather than do that, these wonder women simply avoided me. It was crude but effective. I reckon my persuasion skills ARE that good ;-).
*play*

Like physical cowards, they know they can't hang so they dodge, hide, avoid, play sick, speak Spanish and do all sorts of other nonsense to stay out of the emotional dialogue. Of course when hiding doesn't work, like in the physical they resort to violently outward antics in the emotional (and I reckon mental) realm. In a sense it makes them seem double-minded, on the one hand they often profess undying love, swear to God, promise to die for you, etc but on the other hand they avoid (again unless they trying to have sex or bully you into leaving the conversation) the most essential component to a relationship: effective, honest, communication. It is my sincere belief that until we/they/us tackle this notion of emotional immaturity and emotional cowardice then we won't be able to touch the notions of lack of emotion, unsatisfied emotions, or even emotional abuse. We will continue to be on that hamster wheel, trying to convince the other of the worthiness of our emotional needs and space.

Of course this begs the question of why we as humans keep investing in these junk bonds offered by people who take one of our most prized components and utterly crap on them. Do we feel we can't do better? Do we lack the skills to move on? Do we lack the courage? Are we that sexually whupped? I do not know and there isn't enough space here to even divulge into this here. I will simply submit that at some point we all have to look at this aspect and answer the very hard question on whether our returns are meeting our investments.

Like most things I argue that too is tied into fear, and that fear comes from an immature handling of a perceived lack of skills. More importantly when one lacks faith they fall into this habit of taking mess.

But again, I don't to explore that here. Maybe in another blog. For now I will simply tell my sisters to force the conversation, make these men be men and guard your hearts.

More importantly, I would tell them to act, as always, in truth and transparency about their needs.

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
4-8-2010
8:00pm

On Rethinking Black Love: Baby Daddy Blues

~Author's Note: I am not completely back from hiatus but I had to drop this in honor of the up coming Valentine's Day to express some frustration. I wont be back full time until around April~ TLT

"They gotta place self on the main throne before they can have a co-regent... otherwise, they'll keep on fuckin with the Joker"~Ekklektia

Happy Early Valentine's Day!

Sup snarky mofo reading this. I've missed yall so let's get right into it.

I.hate.baby.daddies.

I know what you are thinking: "Um, TLT aren't you a baby daddy?"

I am but at the same time I'm not. I'm not making sense? Well let me explain:

I used to be a baby daddy. I was that nigga who wouldn't treat J-Hawk, my BM, right to save my soul. I was a young cat and honestly I didn't know how to make heads or tails about family, being the man etc. So I messed up, she would get fed up and would try to move on. I really didn't care that she left until she started liking somebody. Then all of a sudden I wanted my family back, I cared, I needed her love etc. I kept these "emotions" until her new interest was dismissed or left and then when I felt what was mine was secure, I went right back to the same shit. This cycle continued until she got fed up and ended it; a few weeks later "The Long Night" hit and I had to grow up and accept some truths about myself and among those truths was that J Hawk and I were better friends and parents than lovers. So we evolved, created an atmosphere of truth and transparency and we made a situation that rivals what Will Smith, Jada Pinket and his baby mama got. It's real, peaceful, and honest. More importantly it has boundaries. Neither of us interferes in the others personal relationships unless: a) Money or property has been stolen/damaged, b) there is some kind of abuse or c) our children are disrespected or harmed. Outside of that, I can say with no hyperbole that neither of us gives two shits what the other does. I mean during the "LSC" and "DOF", J-Hawk didn't interfere or say one word until I went into the hospital for seven days. Then it became her issue because my mental health had failed, and that impacted my ability to be a father to those two heirs. She was concerned and wanted the situation resolved, not for her own gains but for our children. This is the kind of balance and respect I seek when I meet any woman especially after recent events. After the shit I am currently seeing and a meeting I had a lil over a month ago, I've discerned that sisters may not be totally emotionally honest when it comes to being over their baby daddy and that is hella problematic.

I love yall Sistas, but I need for yall to make up your minds. Seriously, this shit with the baby daddy(ies) has gotten outta fucking control. I mean really why do yall even claim single and start looking when you know damn well you still attached to this dude either fiscally, physically, or emotionally. I mean why even start something new when you know damn well as soon as this ass-clown figures out what string of words to put together you're gonna go running right back to him like rats to his pied piper?

It's not fair to the men who seek to build something meaningful with you (and possibly your children) and honestly it really begs the question of your integrity. I mean just be honest. There is no shame in truth and transparency. If you wanna wait 15 years for him to finally ask you to marry him, be truthful. If you really need his money to survive or pay your rent, be truthful. If you think no other man knows you but him and you know you're gonna forgive every sin he does because hey its all in the past, be honest. Stop acting like you through when you know you're not. That shit makes me cuss.

Now that the emotional clouds have been lifted, I am thinking/processing on all cylinders and honestly some of the shit I'm hearing, seeing, and living defies logic. Why do you need to have access to his money? Why do you need that information? That is some married couple shit right there. J-Hawk is my G, my buddy and one of my best friends, but I am sure she'll laugh in my face if I asked for access to or information about her money and would press charges if she knew I had such access/information to her money and vice versa. Tell me again why it fucking matters what he thinks about us dating? Why would should we/I be concerned about what he thinks about me/us when the last time we spoke was almost 20 years ago? Again I'm sure J-Hawk would utterly spit hot coffee at me if I crossed such a boundary. Why is he living in your house for the past six months? Ha comedy. If I stayed at BM's house more that two days she's putting my shit on the back porch. I'm a pretty fucking intelligent dude, so explain to me why I can't express love in front of your family cause it would get back to him? If you wanna marry me then why does it matter what he thinks? I can only imagine the look BM would have is somebody suggested she hide an important (sic) facet of her life to make me, the fallen king, happy or kept ignorant or both.

I guess what bothers me is that as a former scummy baby daddy, I know for a fact these niggraz don't want yall and just get a thrill knowing they can have this measure of control over your lives. They (and I when I was doing this) could give two fucks about putting the "family" back together or any of that other bullshit. This shit is about territory. He can't deal, like I couldn't deal, with another niggra all up in the woman he believes is his. So in order to remove that man, he plays on the one aspect that you are soft for, the kids, and you just give in. You shit on and shit can the brother who is doing right, for the one who promises to do right? So he gets back and does what? The same shit he did when you left. He's right back to lying, slapping you around, texting his ex, pissing away the money, ignoring your emotions, ignoring you, not fucking you right, blah blah blah and he's now even more extra because he knows you will get rid of a true king to eat his shit. He knows he has a infinite get out of jail free card. He knows he can fuck up, let you think you wanna leave, come back with tears and pleas of family and in a week you'll be sucking his dick and the cycle continues: wash, rinse, repeat.

Yeah our love life does reflect our real politics. I digress though.

Really Queens how many Kings are you gonna let go in your life because you can't stop fucking or fucking with the Joker? How many second, third, fourteenth chances you gone give the negro who has shown he can't do it and at the same time deny the brother who is doing it real chances? It doesn't take a whole day to recognize sunshine and honestly if he was going to do right and wife you up he would have done so. You don't fight to get back into a place to stay "babydaddy". Let me give you an example: There are three exes I have that if I ever got back with (assuming I am single if the chance arouse) I would marry a week after reconnecting. Why? Because you don't come back to be in the same spot. You come back to do better. Brett Farve didn't come back just to play football. He came back to win a fucking ring. So when you give him his fifty-fifth chance is he talking the championship? I seriously doubt it. I am willing to bet these convos ain't even happening. If these talks are happening, I'm sure it's the whole "when I'm ready/ I aint ready" type convo. As a former scummy baby daddy I can tell you that nothing makes his dick harder than to know he got control over you like that. He's laughing, your delusional and the good dude is kinda salty.

After taking time off to reflect after an emotional meeting (well it was emotional for me) I recently with an old friend, (in this meeting it was confirmed that she decided to give her baby daddy chance number 4,591) I was forced to take stock and look at my last committed relationship, my last few dating experiences and last attempted dating experiences. What I have discerned is that the these damn baby daddy dynamics are the major obstacles to anything serious I want to build, and its forcing me to put further barriers in place to prevent me from being hurt again or given the short end of the emotional stick. I am tired of the Baby Daddy Blues and I need to figure out a way to stay out of situations that will lead to me having BDB. But by putting up these barriers I am shortchanging possibly a good sister who might really want to be true, and might truly have an understanding of how this shit is done like me and J-Hawk has figured out.

Shit maybe Mary Mitchell is right. Maybe yall do need to just marry your baby daddies and get it over with. Oh wait. He's bullshitting on that. My bad.

I don't know. I am trying to figure all this out. I guess right now all I am asking the sisters I encounter (past, present and future) if you know you still got hopes and dreams for that Joker to be the King, don't waste my time, energy or emotions. Don't talk about building anything with me if you even got a minuscule hope that he comes around. Just leave me the along and wait around for him to do whatever he will do and let me be on my way.

Let's all act in truth and transparency.

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
2-06-2010
9:16AM

Reconstructing Memory: The Heart of a Champion

"Nobody can out perform him in big name matches"~Jim Ross

Memory Build 1.0
File Upload: Resiliency/Tenacity
Begin Memory Sync:

The other night I had the wonderful experience of watching classic WWE(F) matches with my heirs and bonding over the golden time in pro wrestling known as the Monday Wars. Without getting into the whole back story this was an exciting time for the business as three companies: WWE(F), WCW, and ECW battled for supremacy in/on their respective Monday night programs. During this throw back moment I got a chance to see my favorite wrestler in action: "The Heartbreak Kid" (HBK) Shawn Michaels. Now most people make the mistake and think my favorite wrestler is either Ric Flair, The Rock or even Kevin Nash. Those are all performers I enjoy (in that order), but none of them compares to HBK.

If you haven't discerned by now I am a HUGE fan of professional wrestling. The emotions and actual matches are a beautiful melody that only well a guy like me can enjoy. There something about the story lines and the performances by the wrestlers that I find enjoyable and at times (in a case of life and art imitating each other) I find some real life lessons.

With this said, there is nobody, in this author's humble opinion, better than good ole HBK. From the ladder match at Wrestlemania 10, to the Iron Man Match at Wrestlemania 12 to the most recent match at Wrestlemania 25, HBK has never failed to perform. I don't think he has ever had a bad match. In fact so strong is his dedication to not be out performed lead Jim Ross to remark that "Nobody can outperform him (HBK) in big name matches." Yeah, even thinking about HBK makes me smile.

My affinity for HBK goes deeper than his in ring performance however. Shawn Michaels is impressive to me because he has overcome some much in his personal life. He has been a lighting rod of controversy such to a point he once remarked "I knew there were a lot of stories out there about me but I didn't know that so many weren't true." HBK has been through it all and he has remained resilient through these challenges. From his battles with pain killer addiction, back stage politics, womanizing, as well as a near career ending back injury to his subsequent conversion to Christianity and character redemption has shaped him into a leader among his peers. Consider his performance at Wrestlemania 14 that illustrates his heart and soul. This event is widely acceptable as the one where he showed his true character, wrestling with a severe back injury yet, doing his part to ensure the company moved forward. I know for me it was the event were I truly began to appreciate his greatness. During the match you can literally see his face grimace in pain, yet he still performed at his best. Indeed, if there is any performer that shows he is a Soul Survivor it is Shawn Michaels.

Soul.Survivor.

Memory Sync in progress.

50% complete. Please wait.

Constructing Soul Survivor Matrix:

Soul Survivor. She called me that once. Ekklettia called me that. She said I had more lives than a cat. In fact just about everybody I know talks about my resilience. The very qualities I love in HBK are qualities I embody. There is no quit in me, there is no surrender. I will not stay down long. I will not lose, even if I lose.

Somehow, somewhere, during my "war' this year I forgot this basic truth. I have something called heart. Or guts. Or intestinal fortitude. While I will not absolve those who left me behind, I will say I can understand their confusion. They didn't know how to respond to the man with more heart than anybody they knew, who will not be out performed well being out perfomed. While their response is/was flawed, I do understand their confusion.

Hell I am confused by it myself.

But the fact of the matter is sitting here with my sons allowed me to remember, the first file in reconstructing and reconnecting with my historical memory. I am a fucking Survivor. I am a Soul Survivor and I don't lie down for anyone or anything.

The LSC and DOF was my Wrestlemania 14. It was the moment where I had to do what I had to do, even though I was hurt, tired, confused, and left behind. It was my moment to put on a big name match. It was my moment to become immortal.

History will ultimately decide if I meet these moments. As I upload this file, I am reminded about this quality as a Soul Survivor.

As 2009 draws to a close and I stagger to my feet, flexing and smiling I am remembering that TLT doesn't give up.

I am a Soul Survivor.

2010 will (re-)affirm this. It will be mine. I will shine once again.

And like my favorite wrestler I will be back, better than ever.

File Uploaded

Memory Sync Completed

Straight, No Chaser,

TLT

12-13-2009

11:00pm

Of Mice and Men: The Seeds of Hope and the Journey of 2009

"Never stop fighting till the fight is done."
~Elliot Ness

2009-A year I will long remember.

I had planned on proposing on New Year's Eve. I was going to do it right before the BFL toast (or whatever toast we would be having). I had every intention of starting 2010 with her as my fiance and my family life finally together.

I had begun saving for a ring. I was thinking of wedding concepts so when it came time for her to plan the wedding I wouldn't be the typical male bump on the log.

Of course as you are undoubtedly aware, those dreams were smashed to pieces in perfect storm of depression, stubbornness, mis-communication, and angst that was the LSC (and by extension the DOF), which has the dubious honor of being the darkest and most unjust time of my lfe.

Subsequently, during the months that followed and the accompanying emotions I had made the decision not to suffer any more setbacks or let downs. So depressed and heartbroken was I that it was not outside the sphere of reality for me to have made the ridiculous and equally selfish decision to commit the ultimate act of surrender. Thankfully most of despair passed and I scrapped those plans. I give credit to Jehovah for not leaving me when my faith seems to give out. That more than anything is the reason why I know I was able to scrap those plans.

Before I did understand the saying "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

Trust me I understand it now.

Even as I publish this retrospective of 2009, this piece you are reading is not what I planned. I had written something harsh, a tome to let the world know how badly I was hurt and let down by the various people whom I love(d) so dearly. It was a beautifully written lamentation of the dark year of my life. Yeah I was gonna make this blog cry as I so love to say.

However, I refuse to end 2009 like that. I will not end with the blogspot's version of Tupac's "Machiavelli" album; a well written, creatively sound, but extremely disturbed piece of work.

There is no question I lost in a major way this year. Anybody who can't discern that or questions that or even disagrees with this assessment needs their head checked. It is also a known fact I need to take time and rebuild. This is why recreating my historical memory is essential to my healing.

But at the same time I have learned so much, endured so much, survived so much and gained so much in 2009; despite my soul breaking losses I did eventually make it to one knee and I did begin my process of getting back on my feet. That in itself is a blessing. It also proves my assertion that when it matters I'm a solider. I will never surrender, quit or give in....even when I think I'm going to.

I realize even in the shadow of those losses there are rays of bright light that shine through. I FINALLY have the career I want. I have honed my skills as a writer. My new inner circle will now be full of people who share similar world views and aspirations, as well as my victories and struggles. MOST importantly I am blessed with loving, intelligent, wonderful, awe inspiring sons. Their existence continues to fill me with energy and provide me with the seeds of hope.

With those seeds of hope I know, if for no other reason that after this year I can only go up; I eagerly await the harvest of 2010. If my dream and castle burned, then out of those ashes will arise a man, stronger than anything ever seen, more focused and determined.

I will never again lose like I did this year. There is NO Greater weapon than a prepared mind. Believe you and me, I am preparing my mind.

Thank you for taking this journey with me blogspot and snarky mofo reading this.

Until all are one and restored.

Straight, No Chaser

TLT

12-2-2009
9:10pm

The Sun Of The Mourning Pt.3: Altered Deals and Saving Grace

"Man I gotta get my soul right"~ Jay Z

It's 69 degrees and the wind is blowing perfectly from the east. Each slight breeze is a gentle massage on my skin. Anybody who knows me knows I love weather like this; the perfect 69 degrees reminds me of Nashville and when time was simpler and with a small pang of guilt life in the B.C. era.

I stood in the park enjoying the late night breeze, mediating on the weeks events; completing the meaning and struggling to find balance. Of course this moment towards balance was complicated by the swigs of Effen Black Cherry I was taking. Still the slight buzz and breeze continued to take over my body and relax my tight muscles. I was able to see the world, without time, and attempt to make sense out of my life.

As I stood there humming the lyrics to People Get Ready by Curtis Mayfield, the breeze that had so relaxed me stopped; in its place a gust of heat that seemed to turn this quiet night into a 99 degree day. Without missing a sip I turned and saw him walking towards me, each step a perfect stride, sporting a cream polo, blazer and jeans, and hair faded to the 9's. Par the course, he was the perfect mirror image to my current ragged state. I took another swig of vodka and tried to, as humanly possible, prepare myself for tonight's encounter.

"Good Evening Mr. Thomas" he said in an all to familiar voice, her voice, each step pronounced by the sounds of his feet hitting the pavement.

I don't speak. I take another swig of vodka.

He walks right up and stands next to me.

"The camp of a defeated army. Boy I never get tired of this scene. It's something poetically funny about seeing the hopes and dreams of people so determined smashed into bits don't you agree?"

I still don't respond. Instead I take another sip.

He points at the flask and laughs. "No Seagram's Apple tonight? Man a nigga get a job and now he wanna buy Effen, bougie muthafucka".

I still don't respond.

"Guess who I saw tonight? Heh she was looking good. Smelled good too. He got to be hitting that good and raw. I wonder if he stares with the same intensity..."

He is cut off by my sloppy swing. The first one grazes him, but the second is easily deflected as he blocks my arm and kicks my left leg out.

"Liquid Courage has been the downfall of many men. Don't let it be yours. Now pick yourself up. Somebody walks by and they'll see a drunk man in the grass." He extends his hand to help me up. "Let's play nice tonight Mr. Thomas." Every time he fucking says that I wanna scream but I don't let it show on my face.

Shaking off his punch and struggling for breath I finally speak to him.

"You're interrupting my meditations" I say as I finally take his hand and come to my feet.

"Meditations? Who? You? LOL. Ha Com.e.dy. Mr. Thomas you don't mediate. You brood. If you truly were meditating you would have discerned the answer by now."

"I'm so not in the mood for you."

"Why is that? You deal with strangers on your blog. What makes me different. At least you can see me."

"Can we get to the point? Does my "test" start now?

He laughs and it is a deep soul moving laugh. "No, I've changed my mind. No test for you."

"Interesting and why is that?"

"Simply you're not broken enough. I need you a lil more dilapidated than this."

I make a face and look at him "It doesn't get worse than this."

"Man, you don't know how bad it's going to get".

I walk right up to his face and tell him "Fuck you."

"Oh you mean like..." his words drift off. "You ALWAYS set yourself up for that."

"I heard you're a liar" and I turn and walk away.

He chuckles. "Stop talking to baptists. They'll steer you always steer you wrong."

He is beside me again, moving as if he teleported.

"Look Mr. Thomas, I got a deal for you. A better deal. Even you wont be able to say no to this one".

Sighing frustratedly and in a mocking tone I respond "Do an act of worship to me and all the kingdoms will be mine right?" For the first time in any of our encounters I laugh at HIM. I turn to keep walking.

His face gives away his annoyance. "Even better."

I keep walking.

"What could a man do with a 72 hr advance notice? Better yet Mr. Thomas what would you DO with a 72 hr advance notice" he asks curiously.

My stride slows and then stops. I turn around to face him. I am now feeling the full effects of the vodka and the world is blurry and unstable. The only thing I can see clearly is him.

"I could do miracles and prevent disasters with that kind of head start"

He pulls out his golden apple and takes a bite.

"I know. 72 hrs. That's a big lead"

My feet begin to move and I don't know why; he was away but now in this blurry world he's the only thing that is clear, close and not moving in circles.

"So what are you saying?" I ask my voice no longer strong, the whine I've come to hate returning...

"I am saying to give me what I want and when you wake up it will be April 2nd."

"2009?"

"Yes April 1st 2009. And the only trick will be you will know what is gonna happen...up until April 5. I'm offering you a reboot, a do over, and a cheat sheet"

I try to swallow and the lump in my throat hurts. I take a swig of vodka and there is no more. Did he just offer me a do over? A chance to prevent it all? I pull out BH2, hoping for a sign. My phone is dead.

Smirking he says "Oh I turned that off. I don't want us to be interrupted. What were you looking for Mr. Thomas? A sign? From him? You've done it his way. And what did you get? What have you gotten? Some other man fucking your wife? Ridicule? I'm offering you a fucking do over and you're standing there looking dofus like. Take the fucking deal Terrance. He tilts his head. If not for you do it for the boys." As he finishes his smirk turns into a full smile.

I feel the tears flowing from my eyes, I feel the hurt inside and I feel it all overwhelming me. My chest wants to explode, my head hurts and my right hand is extending.

I do what until that moment is unthinkable. I give him my right hand. I take the apple from him.

He takes my hand and it burns as I grasp his. The pain is a necessary side effect "No tricks?" I ask.

"None. When you open your eyes it will be April 2nd and you'll have all the knowledge you need."

I nod.

"Now you need to kneel".

I feel my legs giving out and my body going heavy. This is wrong, but right, its necessary. I've done it right and got nothing. Why not try him I reason?

Suddenly he turns and looks. His face blazing with anger. He lets my hand go and I notice he expression isn't anger but fear. Something has made afraid.

"We finish this later."

And then he is gone....

I stand in the park unsure of how to feel. He had me. He won. Why did he let me go. What MADE him let me go.

I decide its finally time to go home. I'm standing in the middle of a park on 79th drunk and that is a sure "get your ass locked up" combination.

I stumble across to the bus stop and there is an elderly sister I assume is one of the many hobo's riding the 79th street bus at 3am. I speak politely so she won't think I'm a threat and mess around and mace me or something, thereby making my crazy night worse.

"Good evening ma'am"

She smiles and speaks in a peaceful almost southern tone

"Hi baby." As if she's studying me, she asks "you OK? its to late for you to be out. Your wife is gonna be mad if something happens to you. Ain't nothing out this late but trouble"

"I don't have a wife, not any more at least" I say. Then I add "I'm already in trouble"

She nods "Yeah that's why I screamed for that man you was fighting and arguing with to leave you alone. He looked like he was gonna hurt you"

Now my face is puzzled. "What man?" I ask trying to be coy

"That evil man over there. Had I not said something he surely was gonna hurt you."

Suddenly my buzz is gone. Now I am wondering if ......

She walks up and touches my face. "Mr. Thomas, Mr. Thomas I know this is hard. I know this hurts but it is going to be better. You're not forgotten, disliked, hated and you ARE LOVED and thought about. Do not believe his lies.

She turns and begins to walk away. "Your soul depends on you remembering this. Baby the Duel of Fates is real"

I stand there stunned and in amazement. "Thank you" I say now tearful again.

She smiles. "You're welcome baby. One more thing. Have you discerned how he gets to you? Have you figured out what gives him the in path?"

"Thinking about her?"

"No. Your thoughts are love. He uses that as the red herring. When you discern how he gets to you, then you'll stop leaving him that opening."

She walks away and I lose her in the darkness....

Suddenly my phone buzzes and I get a text message. It's an old message but now it's in my new file.

"Mr. Thomas only Jehovah truly knows."

I shake my head when I realize that I was saved by an angel. I was about to yield and I was had to be saved.

That doesn't make me feel to good.

I go home and go to bed. I hold my young son as I try to make sense of tonight's events and how I was about to, had given in only to be saved. This will fuck with me for a while...this situation will fuck with me for a while. Man I gotta get my soul right...before I mess up my WHOLE life.

I need to figure out his in....

And prepare for the next encounter

The Duel of Fates Rages on.........

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
9-1-2009
5:30am

Document THIS Pt.3: Unconfirmed Reports

"See what I had heard"~Inner City Saying

Let's take a walk snarky mofo reading this.....come see the world without time with me.

Circa: 1996
Place: Fisk University Nashville TN
Location: Shane Hall.

We were going to go to a super bowl party thrown by my friend Devin's dad. My date to this lovely event was supposed to be my then girlfriend K.S.W. Well she wasn't exactly my girlfriend, we were in that kind of limbo only the immature and the young get into; where we were doing all the things of a couple, but not taking the label of a couple. Unknown to me she was exploring options while keeping me close, leading me to believe the things we were doing we going to help us work out whatever 19 year old love problems we had. Well the night of the Super Bowl party I go to pick her up and head out. But she wasn't there. She never called. She didn't leave a word. She just stood me up. With my 19 year old brain I opted to instead of keeping it moving, to sit around and wait. I almost missed the party had Devin, being the friend he was not came back to get me.

The next morning she calls me to tell me she went out and stayed with a friend, the second time she had stood me up in like a week or send me off to explore one of her options. Upset, I went over to her dorm room with the intent on giving her the best cussing out my young brain could muster. When I got there, we exchanged typical 19 year old nastiness. I lost the exchange. In a moment of stupid young lion bravado I snatched her car keys and left. I went to the library to read a couple of chapters of Romance of Three Kingdoms, went and bought a comic book from Kroger's and then I went to my dorm room to eat a sandwich. In all, I was gone about 30-45 mins. Suddenly, it was a knock at my door and crazy Mike, a fellow RA, was at my door. He got a call at the front desk from another RA over at Shane that the police we called and en route to me. So again with Leo pride I walked over to the Shane security office, told my side of the story and put my hands on my head ready to be arrested. An older officer clearly sickened by EVERYBODY's antics told me to "take my hands off my dumb ass head" He took the keys out of my pocket and handed them to K.S.W. He then turned to me and said "This is the stupidest reason to ruin your life. There will be better reasons. This ain't one of them (God knows he wasn't lying). He then pointed to K.S.W. and said "young brother this woman stood you up and made you look stupid. She isn't worth your tears. Why would you go to jail on a woman who don't respect you. Respect yourself and not do this over her." He then turned to K.S.W. and said "you need to be careful with these silly games. The next man might not just take your keys." She turned and left. I was held back a little bit until she pulled off and then let go. As I left the office the rumors as only a Black College like Fisk could create has circulated that I beat her and stole her car. In my young hubris I sucked up my notoriety and fame. I did not realize that it would create an urban legend which would come back to hunt me some 13 years later.

I have often reflected on that event, its stupidity of my youth and this one stands out for a number of reasons; my first girlfriend out of my house and my inability to handle a relationship in those close quarters. I mean I had girlfriends in high school, but I didn't see them 24/7 and I didn't have to keep seeing them once school let out esp. after we broke up. I learned I had a obscene fixation with justice. My action wasn't designed to "steal" her car. In fact it should be stated again that I walked around but never set foot in that car. I wanted her to understand inconvenience and selfishness. But most importantly this event earned me the label of "woman beater". Like I said earlier in my youth I thought the "rep" of being a real hard ass that stood up to the po-po's was cool and sexy; what I didn't know was that also attached was the concept that I was a young Ike Turner.

So why am I opening this file now? I mean it's been 13 years and generally anybody with a life couldn't/wouldn't and shouldn't give a shit about a pissant couple from 1996. Well the reason I recanting this story is because this trivial shit came back to bite me in my ass.

If you recall from the first two essays in this series, I discussed how (the) Queen had come up with the ludicrous notion that I was going to hurt her. Well in the aftermath of all the nonsense, pain, growth, hustle, and sadness that was/is, The Love Supreme Crisis, (the) Queen having already dethroned me suddenly hit me with a banning that would have made the old apartheid South Africa government jealous. Suddenly I wasn't the HIT with beautiful eyes but the a poor Rick James mixed with OJ Simpson. After the BFL09 cinco de mayo, although I received an occasional text or blog comment (the) Queen just wouldn't talk, see or unban me.

I've often wondered why she would think I was a demon, a man capable of whupping on her when I wouldn't even kiss her without her permission, use her bathroom without her permission, or even...well never mind all that. Fact is the LAST thing, my depression supreme aside, that I would ever do it hit her or any woman. Well there was one woman I hit but she hit me first and with a bottle. I digress. Fact is I was seen as an animal.

I've often wondered why even with the evidence that I was just a depressed pussy whupped heart broken man that I couldn't get another file review with the new evidence presented. Well I got my wish.

Recently a memo came across my desk that informed me that someone I thought was a friend and supporter of the kingdom had gone to the queen to offer assistance, prayer and help. Mind you all I did was ask for a strengthening prayer. This person whom I wasn't even friends with at Fisk (and come to think of it wasn't cool with K.S.W. either) tells (the)Queen that I beat up my girlfriend, pissed in her plants and otherwise did all sorts of cray rude shit to her. In fact I was asked point blank by my source had I committed such an evil act. I was floored and hurt. So not only was I convinced on incomplete evidence I gotta contend with fabricated, unconfirmed reports? Are you fucking serious? I realize during the height of my depression I made some serious errors in judgment, I might have even looked a bit crazy but damn was it that deep.

The memo went on to clown me for not revealing my past and being dishonest. I was called into question and the validity of my manhood and realness was challenged. In short I was read the riot act.

All because of a stupid urban legend designed to make me look like want gone ape shit. For real? Wow. There was a time, pre Duel of Fates I would have gone on a cussing out spree. But as I try to do things differently, as I try to grow and reconcile contradictions I simply write it off. I will correct the mistakes, because that is a doozy to have on your record and keep it moving. Such it the paradox of being a big emotional negro.

I must admit, moments like this make it so much easier to walk the path of the Star. I mean damn. I realize the past is very important but I also realize, like a man fresh out the joint, that sometimes we just want to be looked at by our present actions. I mean I said it before, the fairest formula is Past Sins vs Present Heroics.

This makes my quest and fight for a fair review all the more intense. I was removed because of a a misunderstanding and banished off of an unconfirmed report. In fairness to (the) Queen, there was a whole lot going on and honestly I was like so close to being a bablling fool. But still with the connection to my mom, BFL09, and Dr. Devin (who by the way was there in that room with me) the truth could have been discerned.

In one of her more candid moments of brilliance, when she wasn't plotting to take over the world, Ret. Gen Yan once quipped "Sometimes people just wanna convict you out of punishment. I mean you piss them off and you gotta pay for that." I think that is the case, and at the root of all this nonsense, this 120 days of suckation with (the) Queen that I pissed her off on a sacred day and now I gotta get my ass whupped. I mean I've done it to others, tis would be arrogant to think it wouldn't happen to me.

*sigh* Indeed, all of this fits right into the Duel of Fates. For what must be reconciled is the love I know that's there, versus the piss offness and disappointment. Indeed, like me the choice of Jehovah (love) or the Star (My pride and her stubbornness) are in mortal combat.

And we gotta lovely unconfirmed report to thank for all the bullshit...this lovely Duel now before us...

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
8-3-2009
12:01am

Prologue to a Duel

"In order to reconcile the external, we must first reconcile the internal" ~BlackThought39

In this Duel of Fates I will have to choose:

Life or Knowledge

Knowledge or Wisdom

Forgiveness or Anger

War or Peace

Acceptance or Defiance

Reality or Illusions

Past or Present

Present or Future

Happiness or Honor

Pride or Humility


I will have to reconcile:

I am a King No Longer..a banished HIT silenced and forgotten; but seeking to be remembered and heard.

I created a problem and now that problem doesn't heed my solutions.

I am both strong and emotional.

I am stupid and intelligent.

I am happy yet sad.

I am complex yet simple.

I am strong yet fearful.

There are no expectations within the expectations.


In this Duel of Fates I will:

Have to make war with a General to create peace

Shrink in order to expand

Cry in order to smile.

Kneel in order to stand

Stand Still in order to move.


In this Duel of Fates I will have to either accept Jah or the Sun.

In this Duel of Fates......

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
7-29-2009
12:06AM

The Sun of the Mourning Pt.2:Knowledge and Wisdom

"But he got a righteous cause for sinning"~ Jay Z

My hands wouldn't stop shaking as I raced home, ashamed of my actions but even more surprised that I just did the unthinkable. It was the hardest ride I've ever taken, probably harder than that lonely ride home I took on April 4th; this ride was made worse because I had violated my honor code and word. Making it home was an act of Jah, a miracle, because not only did I have to fight the urge to throw up, I also had to fight a dizziness and darkness slowly overtaking me.

I pulled up in front of my house barely able to contain the bitter vomit filling my throat and mouth. As I opened the door everything I've ever eaten came up with a fury brought on by a sense of illness only a man like me could muster at a time like this. I catch my breath for a moment and I throw up again. And again. And again; each time shaking my body and hurting my stomach and throat.

Finally I got a reprieve, and I was able to compose myself long enough to get out, lock up the car and walk to the house. I make it to the door when the vomiting spells came again and I rush to my back yard dropping to my knees. This time my throwing up spells are compounded by tears flowing from my eyes, now adding the bitter taste of salt to the bile filling my mouth. I see the reflection of myself in a small puddle of water. I can't make out the image; I just see the dark silhouette of a man who had just broke one of his own commandments and now had to add that to the laundry list of things to haunt his soul.

As I try to gain composure of my body I felt hot, I felt dizzy and then I felt the darkness embrace me and calm me. I shook my head in disbelief because I knew this feeling; I knew who this was and what he wanted and this time I was afraid I may not be strong enough to fight him off. He was coming to collect on our agreement made at our first meeting.

He walked up to me right as I started throwing up, my vomit landing on his shoes. I try to turn away but can't. Oddly enough he doesn't get angry.

"Wow. These are my favorite Tims. How you gone throw up on them?" he asks matter of factly.

"My bad. Upset stomach" I respond wiping my mouth.

"Not a problem Mr. Thomas." he answers, motioning towards his shoes and erasing the nastiness like an erase on a pencil. Somehow he manages to sound like the only person to call me what without sounding like that person. It's as if he is running his nails on a chalkboard.

"Been a while since I've seen you. Last time we meet you were here..." and he pauses...his voice caring a sense of snarky irony "in almost the same state lamenting the same problem. Wow. How is that for progress?"

"Fuck you" I say struggling to get up.

"No don't fuck me. I ain't the one you wanna fuck" he says. His voice full of arrogance and crude humor.

I look him in my eye and there he stands. A mirror image of me, wearing a Black button up shirt, dark jeans and Timberland's with the sharpest haircut I've seen ever.

He's also eating a golden apple and holding a bottle of water.

"Looks like you've lost a ton of fluids. You wanna bite?" as he extends his apple to me.

"You know I don't want that shit" I say my anger boiling.

"You sure. You could use it." he pushes it towards me. This time I slowly accept it and take a bite. "Heh. That apple has gotten so many people in trouble. Folks always wanna know."

I realize that I have taken a bite of the apple that destroyed paradise, the fruit of knowledge, a bit of spiritual irony because the acquisition of knowledge (or non acquisition) at the wrong time can destroy paradise. I spit it out.

"Such theatrics. Don't be so gay. Don't you want to know?" He asks.

"No. I don't." I say as I struggle to sit on the stairs. He walks up to me and touches my cheek.

It's a familiar touch one that gives me shivers but is so uncomfortable coming from him.

"You are such a fucking liar. If you didn't want to know you wouldn't have________________. I mean wow. I expected such a thing from that lil general of yours, but your the Prime Minister. Wow!". Of course he puts "Prime Minister" in air quotes to add an effect. Shaking his head he continues. "It's only natural to want to know. I mean you're locked out. I've seen her. I'd wanna know who was touching that skin too. I assure you he's having fun."

"That's Wei Yan logic...." I say.

"And she's your mirror image" he chimes in and cuts me off. "You use the same logic too accept maybe you're a bit more.....grounded. Maybe."

I growl at him. " I am nothing like her. There are similarities yes. We're similar but NOT the same. She's crazy." I answer.

He cuts me off again. "No she's brilliant and she understands that these rules you've built are tired defense mechanisms of a man who truly wants to cut lose. Unlike you, for all your bravado, she is prepared to do what must be done." Then he laughs and adds "The student has out mastered the teacher."

Enraged I swing at him, but unlike our first encounter he doens't allow me to touch him. He easily deflects my sloppy punch by grabbing my hand and brings me to my knees.

"I tire of this T. You're not Jacob. You don't get to contend with this angel and live. Why can't you be honest?" he asks applying more and more pressure with each syllable.

Barely able to talk from the pain I try to formulate an answer "I have an honor code and rules. You don't break the rules". It feels like my hand is going to explode.

"Really? Interesting." he says as he loosens his grip. Suddenly he taps into my latent gift "The world without time" and he transports me to the moment when I send the Facebook message. "Where were the rules then?" He asks. I try to knock on the window and speak and tell that fool in the car to stop. But I can't. I can only cry as I watch him hit send. I close my eyes and suddenly I'm on her porch, anger in her eyes and she won't listen. I try to step up and intervene but I cant move. I watch the young man leave the porch dejected, knowing he has no idea of what is to come.

He let's my hand go. I am sitting on the ground crying now.

"Where were the rules and that prepared mind then Mr. Thomas?"

I muster enough to say "Fuck you! You don't get to call me that"

"Ah Fuck me? Like he's doing her?" he asks. Then he leans closer "I wonder what she calls him?"

With a quickness I never experienced I am able to gain balance and I get one good kick into his ribs and it stuns him nothing more. He laughs.

"Excellent T. Excellent T! Now let's use this for some real shit. You owe me a test. You think you ready for it. Same terms apply."

"I catch my breath and I sigh. "Yes. I've been ready. You didn't follow up."

"You think I'm going to tell you when I am gonna test you? Nah that would make this Duel of Fates shit soooooo pointless. Oh by the way you have a message on BH2."

I look down at my phone and there is a message. I open it and it's a blog.

With as much cruelty he can muster he asks me "Still think you gonna get YOUR file review?"

I close my eyes and end the message. I say to him "whenever you're ready."

He laughs again...this time his voice like crush glass. "Nah. You need sleep" His laughter and my slumping on the stairs are the last thing I awaken an hour later sweaty and stinking of vomit.

Drained, ashamed, sad and dejected I go in the house, take a long shower and lay in the bed. I'm tired. I am. I haven't had a bad day like this in a month or so and his visit only made it worse. I close my eyes and try to get some sleep, but I can't. In the early stages of the Duel of Fates I have lost a friend and I will sense there will be more loses to come. He also makes sense. The probability of my file review is low, and if past is prologue and a blueprint it may not bode well even if I did. This is not the reconciliation of opposites I have envisioned.

I toss and turn for a moment when my phone beeps and I get a text message. It simply reads "Don't read to much into the blog T. I know you. In your Duel of Fates things will seem like something they are not. Just keep praying to Jah for discernment and how to handle these trying times. The best preparation is to not to focus on being prepared. With love M_________"

I close my eyes and say a prayer to Jehovah. That message was right on time. It was honest. It was his gift to me; a reminder of how to act in these moments that will surely happen again. I will need him during this Duel of Fates.

Straight, No Chaser

TLT

4-28-2009

12:01pm