#help a nigga out on black history month i’m fucking tired

[cryptenby]

i’m so TIRED of this, it fucking sucks. my partner lost another contract, our only source of income while i’m in school. i keep getting denied benefits. my body is currently trying to kill me, i wake up and am bed bound and in pain until i take a giant ibuprofen that allows me to get up. i don’t know why this is happening to me. i just want to get something to eat. i don’t even have the energy to crowdfund again.

cash & vnmo: torkz428

pypl: torkz

[cashaywallace]

Oh I hurt jessika feelings yesterday bc I exposed her

“She talked about my body”

Bitch no I didn’t

Again YOU MAD CAUSE I DONT FIT UR EXPECTATION OF GOD that’s one.

I’m not coddling your short comings - why you move out mamared- SHE WAS TRYING TO HELP YOU FROM BECOMING A HO. - HI CAM GRL BF.

And if you not sexting on camera you giving pretty girls a naturally mean AND “I’m better than you just cause light skin” aesthetic - red not racist she prolly said some weird shit cause you being weird about yo heritage mixing - finding yourself on a 1/2 scale of black and white- I fucking get it but YOU ZEALOUS AND DONT GOT REASON TO BE- ya looks is average why you use all that make up - UR ACTUALLY VERY FUCKING PRETTY BUT YOUR ATTITUDE IS A REFLECTION OF HOW MUCH POINTLESS MAKE UP YOU BE USING ON A DAILY. - mama red not crazy bitch Yal from the south HAY BLACK N WHITES GET ALONG - what is you doing jessika.. - dating a white boy who wana be black - Yal perfect for each other - YA BOTH MISSED THE MESSAGE GIVEN TO YOU IN YO UPBRINGING AND IT SHOW IN YA DAMN CARS - “we trying to sow both worlds go together” BUT YOU DOING A YOUTUBE ROSE OF KINGSNQWEENS BLACK GIRLS W WHITE BOYS ARE BETTER // BETTER TAKEN CARE OF - NO YOURE PREJUDICE TURNED RACIST - congrats that’s sad. Why YOU GOT KICKED OUT THE HOUSE AND STEALING OFF RED NOW. W/O BF KNOWLEDGE. - UR A SCAMMER DUMBASS. … THE REST OF GIRLS WHO LOOK LIKE YOU YOU IN COMPETITION TO BE BETTER THAN VS FINIDING INSPIRATION TO LOVE YOURSELF - why you got goldenkurls leg tattoos and India love hand but Marie nails 🙂🖕 - UR RUDE N LOST N NASTY INSIDE N CALL IT CUTE - JASMEAN ( why is that yo fucking name - bc I got long hair than most black girls 😒 - why corri leave you ( besides me liking his photos when YOU was stalking me 💋 HI DADDY - SINCE YOU PETTY DUMBASSES )

You trying to become em / ME - BLASPHEMY KARMA. - where’s UR BRAINS / individually … what man told you he need you slutty clothing and long nails n toes done 24/7 w ya hair did - INSTAGRAM FAKE WORLD COATING YO BANK ACCOUNT. - ROBBING THE WHITE HOUSE. - YA DONT CHECK THE CAR FAX

“Well why she get to post her body photos”

BC THERES CLEARLY CONFIDENCE N SELF LOVE IN MINE. IM IN COMPETITION WITH MYSELF THE GIRL IN THE MIRROR TO BE MY BEST FUCKING SELF W SELF LOVE IN TACT ALWAYS.

Went from scrawny little kid ( yes we got caught up on is my ass this or that enough) THEN I BUILT MY BODY I WORKED FOR IT HARD N SHOWED THE PROGRESSION ALWAYS.

You bitches say you in the gym - LIFTING 5 lbs or over doing shit with dumb form saying that’s how you got ur OH SO OBVIOUS ENHANCER ASSES. - WHY YA QUADS XARRYING YA ASS BUT UR MEAT OF THE LEG DONT EXIST - WHERES the real support - not ur core either.

T.hooww you got WASH FLAT ABS … WHERES UR SURROUNDING MUSCLES - you use enhancers not weights to get it

Then you in competition w women who don’t even fit in the lane you trying to take over 🤯

When a nigga and a female really on they shit and sit back and obverse that it really shows Yal lacking brains so you OVER HIGHLIGHT qualities you deem gon be long lasting to a man // woman - why ya relationships ALWAYS FAILING. - WHO WALKS AWAY FIRST , ME.

- a bitch been at the lib for 10 months and ain’t cracked a single book open here or Ventura county

- what was that day Obama I wrote the dna malfunction in medical research and the hydrogen bomb in space you put in my fucking head to make me SPECIAL NEEDS AND SEEM LIKE A CRACK HEAD - FOR THE BOOK WORM BITCHES BUT STOP DOING THE MOST 24/7 SHOWING OF YA BODY IN A WAY THAT DONT BALANCE YOU.

- YAL WANT ME A LACKING HO CLEARLY , IVE TACKLED EVERYTHING IN THE UNIVERSE AND SMSHED IT SO NOW IM BORED MAKING FUN OF WHY YO HISTORY STUCK ON COWS BRAIN REPEAT

- if you see me post a body photo now it’s MANY REASONS BEHIND IT 1. I’m bored and reminiscing 2. I’m bored yo hos is tired and played out 3. I’m bored KAMALA TAKING HER SWEET DAMN FUCKING TIME. 4. IM BORED TRISTAN A SLOW OVER PLANNED LOSER 5. IM BORED LEE N HOWARD IS SLAVE OWNERS HOW MUCH DEEPER WE NEED TO GO 6. IM BORED PAULA A LOSER N TRYNA HOLD ON 7. TAYLOR SR DONE. 8. IM BORED WTF IS YOU NIGGAS SCARED FOR 9. IM BORED YOU WANT ME FRIENDS W A HOMELESS MAN TO RAPE ME 🫤 BITCH THATS NOT MY BABY DADDY TF MENTAL ILLNESS YOU GOT. 10. IM BORED SO IM SHOWING WHO IN A “aspiring limelight” NEED A DAMN PSYCHIATRIST 11. IM BORED SHOWING REAL MEN A REAL EQUAL WOMAN ON THEY ARM 12. IM BORED SHOWING WOMEN HOW TO BALANCE THEY BEAUTY AND BRAINS 13. IM BORED SHOWING GOD DONT LIKE UGLY N ITS NOT ALL THE GAYS* 14. IM BORED AND SHOWING HOW TO BE COPESTETIC IN ALL ENVIRONMENTS WITH WHAT YOU DEEM DONT GO TOGETHER BUT FIT TOGETHER WHEN YOU GET OUT YA BOX 15. IM BORED SHOWING HOW AMERICA IS A ADDICT STATE ADDICT TO PAIN N MISERY AND CODEPENDENT ON SAYING SOMEONE ELSE THE FUCKING BAD GUY

- YOU HO•es NEED WONDER WOMAN BUT YOU CHICKEN

- the aliens is bored waiting to eat and you standing next to em 😹😹😹😹😹🤯🤯🤯🤯

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chapter 23

"When I'm in a bad mood It's good to know I have you You got niggas from your past that still ain't pass you But you're on my time But you're on my time now, and our past through

Now that we finally got them out the way All the decisions that I wanna make I want your body in a million ways Nobody ever makes me feel the same…"

DVSN—"A Muse"

Erik practiced playing poker online. When work was finished with Tony for the day, he would take himself to his apartment and cook a simple meal of plain brown rice with sautéed vegetables and boneless skinless chicken breasts.

Food consumed, he'd check personal emails, call his grandfather, and then hunker down on his laptop and play three hours a night. He was going to use the money Tony paid him that he had saved to get him in at the bottom: half a million dollars. Minus the other half a million he gave away to his family, he was willing to bankroll his spot at the high stakes poker table with no help from Tony.

Work had gotten serious. After Tony's cover story appeared in Forbes, the focus of his company turned toward escalating weapons manufacturing, and Erik finally saw the bread and butter of Stark Industries. His days were spent working with Tony at his subsidiary company AccuTech designing a new missiles system that he called Jericho X. The man spent hours of brainpower trying to create an experimental model that he wanted to manufacture and have on the market within five years. Inking a new contract with the United States Armed Forces, Tony was under pressure to deliver the hot-launched missiles sooner than the five-year deadline he gave AccuTech. The man was hands-on and Erik's education at the Naval Academy was useful to him. Erik had the mind of a soldier, and his training was meant to prepare him for his forthcoming Naval career. Those military eyes helped him on the job.

Erik had to concede once more that Tony was a smart motherfucker and his focus on work was just as laser-sharp and obsessive as Erik. Working around him on the Jericho X project was eye-opening and the long hours pushed Erik's mind to its limits. He was allowed to work at AccuTech and give up a lot of his assistant tasks which he was all for. He acted with restrained professionalism, and that allowed him to hang around after hours to do his own experimentation with the vibranium.

It did take the heads of AccuTech a couple of weeks to be accustomed to a Black teen having so much access to a secret project. If he had been some lanky white teen with an overly ingratiating personality, no one would question his presence. He would just be viewed as a white boy genius and "Atta boy!" accolades would've been thrown at him along with pats on the back. Instead, he was a Black boy genius faced with bias and suspicion. He endured the usual bullshit just so he could get his hands on equipment, testing space, and cutting-edge STEM knowledge.

Sitting on his bed and winding down from playing online poker, he checked out the housing available to him at M.I.T. In six months, he was leaving for grad school and he was already designing his life there. He checked out restaurants and clubs, searched for areas that had Black people and Black cultural things he could access. He searched for any capoeira spaces and the ones he found were white-dominated and he wanted Black people to practice with. He needed Black touchstones to keep him sane after his experience at the Naval Academy and Stark's internship.

Checking the M.I.T. website he found an alumni link that helped new students transition to the Institute. A few hyperlinks found him peeping the on-campus radio station, WMBR, that served the Cambridge-Boston area. Listening to a few archived music shows, he stumbled across one that was deejayed by someone called ButtaFly. The show was called Cosmic Café and when he listened to the first ten minutes, he immediately bookmarked it and added it to his listening rotation. The music was Blackity Black and spanned generations, and the DJ did live mixes that had Erik head bobbing.

For two months he laid on his bed from twelve midnight until two in the morning just being carried away by the sounds and also the voice of ButtaFly, a woman who made Erik's entire body relax. She opened her show with a positive quote or a bit of poetry and then she had themes that she created stringing songs from the field hollers of Black chain gangs to the Black Neo Soul of 90s British R&B, or any type of current African diaspora music she could blend with Hip Hop, Deep House, or Electronica.

He tried looking up personal details or even pictures of ButtaFly, but she was a hidden ghost, just words and rhythms and vocal soothing that helped him sleep before heading off for the grueling hours of AccuTech.

She became his brain muse, expanding his mind so he could juggle the science he worked with every day.

Stretching on his bed, Erik closed his eyes and put in his earbuds.

"As-salaam 'alaykum, Beloved. Welcome to the Cosmic Café. I am your host, DJ ButtaFly bringing you that good nourishment, that savory food for your mind, body, and spirit. Tonight's theme is going to run us into the realm of quantum physics. A little Afrofuturism to get us through Black History Month…"

Erik felt his shoulders loosen up and he closed his eyes. He tried to imagine what type of face went with the sultry voice blessing his ears. The modulations and changes in tone she used as she spoke hypnotized his ears. Muscles throughout his body relaxed and he wondered what kind of musical journey she would take her listeners on that night.

"I want to open the show with a piece from a sister whose work I adore, Alexis Pauline Gumb. I feel like someone out there needs to hear it. I know I do. This is taken from her book of experimental poetry called 'Dub: Finding Ceremony'. This particular joint is called 'Commitment'. Are you ready, Fam?"

Erik nodded his head as he grew more comfortable, slipping deeper into a state of mental ease. He rolled his right hand down his chest and rested it on his stomach. Lying nude in the dark he could almost hear his heartbeat.

"We promise to wake you if we think you won't get the point of the dream. We promise to show up if you show up. Everyday. We promise to make you feel sick if you lie to yourself. We promise to let love through if it's love you came to do…"

Soft. Soothing. Safe.

Her voice cradled and held him in a warm place. She wrapped his thoughts around her words.

"We promise to make time flexible if you give us your time. We promise to think of you more often than you think of us. We promise to remember you when you forget. We promise to be wherever and in everything you haven't noticed yet. We promise to be we, even one by one…"

Erik's body floated. He was still firmly pressed on his bed, but the eternal part of himself seemed to rise above his tired flesh and hover at the beckoning of ButtaFly's mouth thousands of miles away.

"We promise to outsmart your mind. We promise to overlove your heart. We promise to echo over your voice. We promise you everything. Everything. All we ask."

An image formed in his mind.

Full lips. Feline eyes. Skin rich and dark and made for touching and deep kissing.

His hand slid to his manhood.

ButtaFly spun dreams, drums, and breakbeats, sounds and rhythms that kept him floating above himself even as he stroked a growing erection in his hand. He tried to create a more detailed rendering of what he imagined the DJ to look like, but as pre-cum beaded at the tip of his swollen glans, his brain substituted Devika's face and body as a placeholder and he ran with it.

He tugged hard on his dick, keeping a tight grip right under the ridge of his tip. He imagined Devika's ass wiggling as he slapped his dick on her ass cheeks. ButtaFly's music urged him on and when she spoke to her audience about the songs she was about to mix in next, he latched onto her voice and grunted hard.

"Fuck!"

His hand was slick and more pre-cum spilled onto his fingers.

"Fuck this dick!"

"You ready for more?"

The haunting track ButtaFly flooded his ears with dragged him to the edge. He jumped up and turned over on his bed. Grabbing his pillow, he jammed it under his waist and ground his dick on it, pumping his hips as his glutes flexed hard. Eyes squeezed shut he conjured up images of a shapely ass clapping loud because of his thrusts.

A disembodied voice had him humping his pillow, the casing growing damp from the amount of pre-cum he was shooting out from his sensitive tip. He jammed his right hand on top of his erection to create a tunnel, allowing him to pretend he was in ButtaFly's pussy. His hand was slippery and he pushed down on the pillow to get more friction. The music in his ears was made for fucking and he thrust harder imagining some tight pussy yanking on his dick as his balls pounded into a nice soft ass. She sounded like the type who could throw it back on him and make him cry because it was so good. He lost it then.

He yelled like he was knee-deep in gushy pussy.

His thighs grew taught and his orgasm rushed across his ass and up over his back and neck before any semen flooded all over his pillow and sheets. A long groan blew out from his throat as he rubbed out another smaller nut. His fingers touched the pillow. The whole thing was soaked and sticky.

Leaning on his thighs he threw his head back to stretch his neck.

The moment he got to M.I.T. he was going to look for that DJ. There was no way in hell she could make him cum like that and he not find out what she looked like. His dick was still hard, and she kept the music going. He reached for his cell and searched through some old files. He pulled one up.

Athena.

She allowed him to film her as he hit from the back while she held onto her bedroom dresser. He watched Athena's big titties hang down and bounce in the mirror as he pounded her pussy. Jacking off again he allowed the music in his ears to narrate the fucking he watched himself do on his phone. Cradling one overly full breast in his hand on film, he watched his video self cum inside of her, calling out her name as she released on his dick screaming his. His eager hand worked his dick on the bed, the hard strokes slowed down until his cum splashed all over his stomach. He fell back on the bed feeling wiped out.

During his lunch break the next day, he downloaded the book of poetry, ButtaFly shared from the previous night, and read the piece at least five times. The words resonated with him. And they did something else: reminded him of his purpose.

Inside the work labs at AccuTech, Erik studied the mock-ups of new guns and smart weapons. He toyed with experimenting with vibranium and creating sonic weapons.

"We promise to outsmart your mind."

The line of the poem came back to him.

Staring at the new gun design that Tony had posed with on the Forbes magazine cover, Erik thought of converting it and somehow using the properties of the vibranium on it. As he listened to the best weapons designers grapple with the Jericho X missile prototypes, Erik memorized what he saw so that he could sketch it out later in his apartment. He wanted to compare it to the designs he saw in his father's old journals. He asked to work on the Stark sonic canon, a non-lethal long-range acoustic device. Granted permission to do so, he studied how the LRADs could be modified with the ideas he had swimming in his head. He looked for cheap and easy ways to mass manufacture devices that could be shipped around the world undetected. But he had to figure out how much vibranium it would take to modify Stark's LRADs. He only had six months left to absorb all he could.

He stayed diligent with his work and Tony visited AccuTech often giving his thoughts on their progress. Stark was preoccupied with some politicians giving him grief, and also preparing for the new batch of summer interns. He stripped down the number of interns he would have from 100 to fifty. That meant it would be even more competitive. Summoned to Tony's Los Angeles office from Palos Verdes where he had been working, Erik stepped into the outer sanctum and found Devika speaking to some assistants from other higher-ups. She took one look at him and paused for a long time. He realized then that they hadn't seen one another for a couple of months, his time spent in Palos Verdes cutting off contact between them in person.

He was about to step into Tony's office, but she held up a hand signaling for him to wait. When the assistants left, she walked over to him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi."

Her eyes stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time.

"What?" he said feeling self-conscious.

"Something about you is different."

"How so?"

He sat on her desk.

"There's a swagger about you that is different…hmmm, more confident maybe?"

"When have I ever been less confident?"

"You look…good. Sophisticated."

Her eyes flitted away from his face. She was acting bashful all of a sudden.

"How's Wyatt?" he asked.

Her eyes regarded him carefully.

Wyatt was her new boyfriend, an older dude from Seattle she met at a mixer in Los Feliz.

"He's doing well. Thanks for asking."

He let his eyes linger on hers. She was still checking him out.

"He better be treating you like a Queen. Let me know if he doesn't," he said moving off of her desk and heading into Tony's office.

"Stevens. Good, we can get this intern stuff sorted. Come with me."

Tony swept past him and Erik followed. They only went around the corner from his office and into a mid-sized conference room. Pepper was inside the space along with two other executives Erik was not familiar with.

"Awesome, we can finish up now," Pepper said.

Tony and Erik took a seat at the end of the oval conference table facing a blank wall. Pepper handed them touchpads and turned on a floating screen.

"We've narrowed down applicants to just under three hundred. You need to choose who you want to be interviewed."

Erik and Tony scrolled CVs on the touchpads. So many names.

They painstakingly went through every CV, staring at applicant photos floating in front of them. Tony was open to Erik's suggestions, and this fact alone opened up the pool of applicants from ones Tony would've overlooked from his own biases. He tended to court favor with those from Ivy League schools and who had the same boring backgrounds. Mainly white and East Asian applicants who all did the shit that they thought would make them stand out. How many classically trained pianists/violinists who played La Crosse, Tennis, Chess, and water polo did one need? Sometimes too many extracurricular activities signaled a follower. A simp that did things not because they enjoyed it but because it padded their resume. He forced Tony to consider graduates from non-Ivy Leagues, those who did community-based work where they lived. More women applicants of color, especially Black and Latinx ones. He even suggested Tribal Colleges and lower-tiered public universities and colleges. He also mentioned looking at people who didn't have perfect Dean's Lists grades.

"I tell you what. I'll give you three weeks to open up the pool and bring in those types of potential interns you suggested. Pepper, give him access to the advertising bulletins," Tony said.

"That's cutting it close, Tony, we need to have interviews lined up and applicants chosen by the beginning of May."

Pepper and the other two Execs looked annoyed.

"Stevens can get it done. Give him the bulletins," Tony said, standing up.

Erik followed Tony out of the conference room.

"Let's go have lunch," Tony said.

Tony drove them to a restaurant in Pasadena. A small French café with excellent crepes filled with savory meats and sauces.

"Are you enjoying AccuTech?" Tony asked.

Erik nodded as he chewed a forkful of chicken masala crepes.

"I'm getting good reports about you. You've adjusted to the pace."

"It's cool. The LRAD work is right up my alley. That's what I'll study at school. Hands-on work will have me ahead of the curve."

"Grimaldo keeps hitting me up. He is ready for this re-match."

"I am too,"

"You sure you don't want me to bankroll you?"

"Nah."

"He tends to be at his best on his home turf."

"I'm good."

"Some things to know…"

A waiter brought over a glass of wine for Tony and sparkling water for Erik.

"We will be among a lot of royalty. I know you have excellent sartorial choices, but I need you to step up even more and have some formal clothing for at least a week—"

"A week? We'll be gone that long?"

"I'm making some business deals while I'm there, so work will be happening. You can use that time to work on the intern stuff. Pepper isn't coming with us, so I will slip you back into your old personal assistant role. She'll guide you from here. You'll need to be extra discreet while we are over there, and also be prepared for last-minute changes."

Erik ate his meal and listened.

"You sound kind of nervous," Erik said.

"Not nervous. This Jericho deal is very important and we'll be among some other industrialists and even some nefarious characters that want to see me fail. Things have to be tight and not attracting negative attention."

Erik nodded.

"I like the things you brought up at the intern meeting."

"Pepper and the others didn't sound so delighted."

"They'll get over it. It's why I put it in your hands for new outreach. Hey, are you sure about leaving for school after August?"

"Yeah. Gotta get that graduate degree."

"You should stay on at AccuTech."

Erik shook his head.

"M.I.T., Navy. That order."

Tony finished up his wine and glanced at his watch.

"Back to work," he said.

Erik stopped at Tony's office before picking up his car in the Stark garage. Devika was alone there, and her eyes seemed to light up when she saw him again.

"How was lunch?"

"Good. What do you want me to bring back from Monaco for you?"

"You don't have to bring me anything—"

"I want to."

"A t-shirt is cool-"

"T-shirt? That's so gauche. I'll bring you something classy."

"Don't spend a lot, Erik."

"I'll bring you back something that won't make your man jealous. How 'bout that?"

"Okay."

He smiled at her. The aroma of her perfume hit his nose suddenly and the scent took him back to her bedroom and the smell of her on his skin.

"I'm out," he said walking away quickly.

When his work was over for the day, he spread out on his bed nude and slipped on his earbuds.

"As-salaam 'alaykum, Beloved. Welcome to the Cosmic Café…"

Erik's muse took him away once more. Soothed his spirit. Steadied his mind.

He was ready for Monaco.

###

Chapter 24 HERE.

###

Tag List:

@fd-writes​​ @soufcakmistress​  @cherrystainedlipsbaby​  

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@allhailqueennel​ @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot​  @shookmcgookqueen​ @yoyolovesbucky​

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@tyees​  @eye-raq​  @writerbee-ffs​  @chocolatedream30​  @childishgambinaa​  @mygirlrenee​ @thewaysheis​—awkward

[troublemakerfiction]

19.

Raven

“You swung at Darnell are you fuckin’ crazy?” I asked my cousin Nicki while we sat in my living room. Last night everything at the party went left. I wasn’t even supposed to say shit to Darnell let alone spit at her crazy ass but she pissed me off. Nicki’s dumb ass wasn’t supposed to swing on her though, that was the stupidest thing she could’ve done.

Millz is one thing; she’ll probably whoop your ass but Darnell is crazy as hell. The cut bitches and laugh at it type of crazy. I’m sitting here with a cast over my damn nose because her strong ass broke my shit when she hit me.

“I was trying to help you out; you were the one getting your ass beat.”

“Alright but she’s not the one you swing on Nicki. Come on you’ve been around for a few years now, you haven’t realized she’s bat shit crazy?”

“I’ve never seen her mad but fuck her. You act like I’m supposed to be scared of her ass or something. Trouble isn’t going to let her touch me and neither is her baby father. Well the nigga she has posing as her baby father because her daughter looks Spanish.”

“She looks like Darnell what do you mean?” Zaria looks just like Darnell and their grandmother, even down to the extra -long extra curly hair and complexion.

“You sure she’s not adopted?” Nicki asked.

“Nope, their grandmother looks just like them. I think she’s Spanish or something. Their grandfather was black though, I mean black midnight black.”

“You met him?”

“No he died a long time ago. Millz showed me pictures before. Forget that though, you have to watch your back now.”

“I don’t have to do shit but stay back and die.” She rolled her eyes. “I already know Trouble is going to bitch at me when I get back home.”

“You haven’t spoken to him?”

“No, I’ve had my phone off all day. I don’t want to hear his damn mouth.”

“Well prepare to hear that shit because you fucked up. Now they’re going to wonder why you even swung at her while we were fighting. You want them knowing we’re cousins and that you made me spy on him when it came down to Millz? The whole reason you even moved up here is because I told you they were getting close and she moved in with him. You didn’t give a fuck about him being with Bianca.”

“Bianca wasn’t a threat remember. You told me all about their relationship he barely gave a fuck about the girl. She was just holding his attention for a little while.”

“Y’all know I can hear you right?” Bianca said when she came downstairs with her daughter Karma on her hip.

“We know you can hear we just don’t give a shit.” Nicki shrugged her shoulders.

I just shook my head and bit my tongue because I was about five seconds away from smacking her myself. At this point I was tired of her and her dumb ass plans. When she first got at me about keeping an eye on trouble in exchange of her giving me some money every month I immediately thought it was a good idea.

The whole time he was with Bianca she knew about it and didn’t care because she said she knew Bianca wasn’t the type of woman he would take serious. When it came down to Millz that’s when she started feeling threatened. Nicki has always had this fantasy about Trouble marrying her and having a family with him. He and Millz getting close was going to tamper with her plans so she moved back up here to get in between them. She knew because of their history Trouble would start fuckin’ with her and she was right.

Knowing Millz the way I do, I knew as soon as she found out about Nicki she was going to distance herself away from Trouble and she did. I didn’t expect her to pack up and move but when she did I felt like Prophet was fair game. It’s not like he hasn’t fucked people she knew before so I didn’t expect him to be a little bitch and tell her what the fuck went down between us. I still remember when she called and cussed my ass out.

“Hey girl, how are the babies?” I asked Millz when I answered her call.

“They’re fine but I find it funny that you’re fake concerned about them but all the while trying to fuck their father.”

“What? The fuck you talking about?” I tried my best to play dumb.

“You know what the fuck I’m talking about. I’m not even shocked all you do is fuck everybody’s man. I should’ve known you weren’t shit when you let my cousins run a train on your nasty ass. I guess hoes will be hoes right?”

“Millz I don’t know who told you that bu-“

“But nothing bitch fuck you. You want to try and fuck my kids father right after I move bitch are you that desperate? You were waiting in the wings just hoping for an opportunity to fuck him right? Don’t even answer that because I know the answer is yes. You’re a dumb ass bitch to go against me. I’m the only person that’s ever helped your ass. When you couldn’t fuck for your rent because your slut ass was burning I paid that shit. I paid your bills so many times they asked me if I wanted the shit put in my muthafuckin’ name. When you fucked those niggas that Kim’s block party who helped you when both baby mamas came after your ass? I did! When your mother needed that operation and you couldn’t get the money I came in and made sure she was good and you go against me out of all people? Bitch fuck outta here, I will be beating that ass when I catch you hoe. Watch and wait I don’t give a fuck how many years goes by I’m fuckin’ you up on sight.” Before I could even say anything she hung up the phone.

After that she blocked me from everything on social media and I couldn’t even call her anymore because she blocked my number then turned around and got a new one. I wasn’t really shocked; if Millz cuts you off you’re cut off. There is no talking about it, or trying to work around it. It’s a done deal.

“You need to drop that stank ass attitude, you have Trouble now. Why are you so bitter? Oh wait Never mind, I know why. It’s because Millz is back up here and you know that if she really wanted Trouble she could have him.” Bianca snapped back at Nicki.

“Why are you hyping her up? Isn’t she the reason your baby father is denying your daughter?” Nicki said to her.

“Alright, that’s enough. Y’all are both being annoying.” I told them both before giving Nicki my all of my attention. “We have to figure out how to keep you from getting that ass beat the next time Darnell or Millz sees you.”

“I’m not worried about them and Trouble won’t be letting them touch me anyway.” She got up grabbing her purse and keys. “I need to go though, I already know he’s about to give me an earful. I’ll see you later Raven.” When she left I shook my head and looked at Bianca.

“Your cousin is weird as fuck.”

“I know but that’s on her. You just have to ignore her ass sometimes.”

“Well it’s only so much ignoring I can do. She’s still bitter about Trouble like I really give a fuck about that nigga. I have enough to worry about and he’s not on the list.”

“What is going on with you and Prophet anyway? He still hasn’t seen her?”

“Nope, he gives me money every month but he will not come see her. It’s annoying because he doesn’t do his sons like that at all. He’s around them all the time.”

“I know,” I nodded.  Prophet was fucked up for willingly not being in his daughter’s life. Karma is his child so he should step it up and spend time with her the same way he does him and Millz’ kids. It’s not like he doesn’t know she’s his, the nigga knows something if he’s giving Bianca money for her every month.  “So what are you going to do?”

“What can I do?”

“Talk to Millz, maybe she can talk to him about it.” I said and she looked at me like I had two heads. “What? You asked for a solution and I’m giving you one.”

“It’s not a very good one. Why would I talk to her and what am I supposed to say? Hey I know we’ve been beefin’ for years and I got pregnant by your nigga while you were with him but can you tell him to be a part of my daughter’s life?”

“Not those exact words but at least ask. She’s not going to just say fuck you about your daughter growing up fatherless. She knows what that feels like, trust me she’s not that bad.”

Millz comes off as a complete hard ass but she’s not heartless. The girl does have a conscience and I think she would put her shit aside to actually talk to Prophet about being there for Karma. Honestly, Millz is the reason he isn’t. He’s scared she’s going to take their kids away if he plays daddy to somebody else but I honestly don’t think Millz would do that. Besides, whether she likes it or not Karma is Dyce and Darius’s sister.

“How am I supposed to do that and should I even try that shit? What if he stops giving me the money? That money helps me Raven.”

“I know it does but you do want her father in her life right? The girl is about to be three in two weeks, she needs her dad.”

“I don’t know, Millz can’t stand my ass.”

“True but I think you should still try. Just bring Karma with you; she won’t hit you with her right there.”

“Alright I’ll try to figure out how to do it but if it goes wrong Raven I swear to God.”

Amilia “Millz”

“Why are you food shopping like a storm is about to hit? How much shit do you need?” Darnell asked me while we walked around Shop rite. I was stocking up on food because ordering take out and going out every night was starting to get on my nerves.

“My kids can’t eat takeout all the time and this is going to last us the whole month. All this damn meat will be in my deep freezer until I’m ready to cook it.” I had chicken legs, thighs, wings, breast, steak, ribs, beef and pork both, and some more shit sitting in my cart. I wasn’t going to have to buy shit for a good minute. “I know your ass cooks at home so don’t judge me.”

“I do cook but I gave up red meat a long ass time ago. I see you’re not on that wave.”

“So you’re eat anything but chicken and turkey?”

“Not only that but that’s the bases of it.”

“You know fried chicken is just as bad as eating red meat right?”

“Shut up, that’s not the point.”

“No bitch it is the point,” I laughed at her.

“Whatever, you know Trouble called Xavier to have him tell me to not hurt his bitch?”

“For real?”

“Yeah, he said she was on some stupid shit and he knows it but not to touch her and just let it slide.”

“See now that is a problem. This bitch can’t just keep sliding. That’s why she does stupid shit all the time, she aint been dragged yet.”

“I know but Xavier was going on and on about me being the bigger person so I told him I won’t touch the bitch. She has one more time though; just one time and she’s getting shit slapped out of her.”

“Nah fuck that she’s getting jumped and I don’t even do that shit but I’ll lower my standards that one time because I’m on that ho.” This Nicki bitch was lucky as hell Trouble has her back because she would’ve been dead and gone a long ass time ago if it was up to me.

“I’m not beat for that bitch but she got this one off just because of Trouble. He doesn’t ask me for shit I’ll let him have that.”

“Well that’s you, as soon as I see her ass I’m snuffin’ her.”

“I know you are.” She laughed then hit my arm. “Bitch is that Bianca?” I looked over in the direction she was pointing in and sure enough that was her.

“Yup, that’s her. Whose baby is that?” I looked at the little girl with her, because she was sitting in the cart facing Bianca I couldn’t see her face but I knew it was a girl because of the bun her hair was in.

She must’ve felt us looking at her because she looked up and her eyes landed right on me. Instead of turning the other way and leaving like I thought she would she actually came walking over to me. When she got close enough she smiled a little bit.

“Hi Millz,” She said and I just raised an eyebrow looking at her.

“You know what, give me this cart. I’m going to go look for an open register. I’ll pay for it, just give me the money back.” Darnell said before taking my car and walking off. Once she was gone I looked at Bianca with my arms folded over my chest.

“What’s up, is this your daughter?”

“Yeah, Karma say hi.” The little girl looked at me and my mouth wanted to drop because I automatically knew why she came over to me as soon as my eyes landed on the little girl. She’s Cameron’s daughter that nigga can’t deny her even if he wanted to.

“Hi,” The girl waved with a big smile on her face.

“Hi,” I gave her a smile back before turning to her mother. “So you came over here so I could see her? What’s the point Bianca?” She looked at me confused making me chuckle. “What?”

“You said my name, usually you get it wrong.”

“Yeah well that was how many years ago? I’m over that; what’s your purpose right now?”

‘Alright, I know you don’t owe me anything and I know that I shouldn’t even be asking you for anything but I really want to know if you could help me.”

“Help you do what?”

“Talk to Prophet about being in her life. I know it’s a lot because of how she came about but she needs her father. Every little girl needs that; shit if I had mine I probably wouldn’t be such a fuck up.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do. I can’t make him do anything.”

“We both know that’s a lie. If he doesn’t respect any other female I know he respects you and he listens to you. Whenever I say anything he lets it go in one ear and out the other.”

“Has he seen her?”

“No,  he gives me money for her but it’s not the same thing as being there and spending time with her. I know you don’t like me and I understand why but this is bigger than both of us. Plus she is your son’s sister; don’t you want them to know they have one so they won’t end up fuckin’ with her one day or something?”

I looked at her then looked at her daughter who is absolutely gorgeous. I can’t even hate or say something negative; they made a beautiful little girl. The petty side of my brain wants to yell fuck you at this bitch but I can’t because that would be saying fuck you to her daughter too basically.

I know I was on that my kids don’t have siblings shit when I first found out about this girl being pregnant but her daughter is innocent in all of this. I’m not that damn evil that I won’t at least put a bug in Cameron’s ear about not being a deadbeat. Sad to say he does listen to me, not all the time but for the most part he does.

“Alright fine,” I sighed. “She is their sister so I’ll talk to him but I’m not promising that he’s going to step up. That’s on him, he does what he wants but I’ll try to help you a little bit.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm, sure.” I said before walking off. I already knew I was going to talk to Cameron about this once he dropped the boys off.

In all honesty I forgot about Bianca’s baby. I knew she had it but I never knew what she had or how the child was doing because I didn’t care to find out. I knew Cameron wasn’t claiming their baby which now that I have children of my own, I find fucked up.

She didn’t ask to be created and yes the bitch did it to herself by fucking with a taken man but that is his child and he needs to step up and be there. He’s giving her money so he knows she’s his but I don’t understand why he’s not doing more than just giving her money. If you can hand over some cash you can spare your time.

After meeting Darnell at register we left and I dropped her off at home before going to my own house. I got all the food I bought inside and put away with the exception of the food I planned on cooking that night. Just as I was getting started I knocking on my door so I knew it was Cameron with those big head boys of mine.

I went and opened the door letting them all in. I sent the boys upstairs to their room to change their clothes since I left their pajamas on their bed. Cameron was about to walk out the door but I grabbed his arm stopping him.

“Hold up, we gotta talk.”

“About what?” He looked at me confused.

“Alright so I was in shop rite earlier right and guess who I ran into.”

“Who?”

“Bianca and your daughter.” I said and he sucked his teeth. “That’s a pretty little girl, why are you not around again?”

“I give her money every month, a whole lot of money. Karma is good.”

“Yeah but she doesn’t have a father, you need to stop that shit and be there for her the same way you’re there for Dyce and Darius.”

“Wait, you want me around her?”

“Why does that matter? That’s your kid, we’re not together and even if we were I can’t tell you what you can’t do when it comes to your child. The fuck is wrong with you boy?”

“I thought if I had her around or whatever that you wouldn’t let me see the boys. Let’s not act like you didn’t say they didn’t have a sibling after you found out.”

“Alright and I was pissed off about that bitch being pregnant at the same damn time as me. You can still be a father to your child, I don’t care.”

“What about having Dyce and Darius meet her?”

“I mean, I guess that’s fine too but I think you need to spend time with her before you spring two brothers on her. I can’t believe you weren’t around her because of me. What the hell?”

“You’re petty as fuck and I shouldn’t have chosen between my kids but those boys are my heart man.”

“I know that and your daughter can be the same thing if you put the time in.”

“I love my daughter,”

“Nigga I can’t tell.”

“This isn’t love?” He unzipped his coat then lifted his shirt showing me a tattoo the name KARMA in cursive letters he had on his rib cage. I wasn’t really that shocked, this nigga tattoos everything. He has Dyce’s name on his left forearm and Darius on his right one. Hell, the nigga got a M with a crown over it on the front of his hand for my name.

“Alright woopty doo a tattoo, you’re still not around that girl and you need to change it.”

“I got it; Bianca needs to not tell my business though.”

“Well that’s between y’all. Now fix yourself and get out.”

He fixed his clothes looked at me with a smirk on his face. “I like the adult version of you.”

“The adult version of me? Nigga I’ve been an adult for a long ass time now.”

“Yeah but you aint always acted like it and before your smart ass says it I know I had my moments too.”

“Right nigga, just get out.” When he left I went to the kitchen so I could start cooking. I don’t know what Cameron was going to do about Bianca and their child but at this point I’ve done all I’m going to do. It doesn’t have shit else to do with me.

***

“What do you think of the space?”  The blonde white woman who owned the building I was trying to get an office in asked me. The space was perfect. White walls grey marble floors, and it was duplex style so I had two floors.

“I love it; I already know what I want to do with it and how it’s going to look. I’m ready to sign the paperwork.”

“Well alright, let’s go to my office and get everything started.”  We went to her office and filled out all the necessary paperwork. Once I was done I left and went to the parking garage to get my car. As soon as I was settled inside and ready to go my phone started going off. I took it out of my purse then answered when I saw Vick’s name across my screen.

“What’s up Vick?”

“If you still need that tat done I can do it right now.”

“Nigga you are so random; I asked you about that shit three weeks ago.”

“Alright and I been busy, you want the tat or not?”

“Yeah I’ll be there in a little while. I’m bringing Darius and Dyce with me, I was about to go pick them up from day care.”

“Shouldn’t those little niggas be in school?”

“It is school they’ll be in pre-school next year. Shut up Vick, I have my kids. You just make sure you get my damn tattoo right.”

“Don’t play me like that. Come and bring your ass.” I ended the call without saying anything else and drove home so I could change clothes. The best part about the office space I got is it’s only a few blocks away from my house. The boys’ daycare is literally up the street from where we live and the school they’re going to in September is right around the corner.   I was in the perfect area for right now, hopefully I wouldn’t have to move anywhere for a good while.

When I got home I changed out of the sleeveless blouse and short pencil skirt I was wearing. I was done being professional for the day. I put on a simple white t-shirt, some slightly ripped jeans and my pink Giuseppe Zanotti leather sneakers. The only jewelry I had on were some diamond stud earrings and a gold V-neck choker. After getting dressed I brushed my untamed curly hair into a high bun.

I left my house, picked up the boys from their day care then headed down to the shop. When I walked in all eyes landed on me. I didn’t recognize  them so I was immediately freaked out. I was about to ask what the fuck they were looking at since I didn’t know any of the people gawking at me, but Dime came around the desk and hugged me.

 “Millz!” She squealed while picking me up off the damn ground. “Ooh I missed your ass, I’m sorry I missed your party.”

“It’s cool, I didn’t even want a party and it was a shit show so you’re good. Vick is back there right?”

“Yeah he’s back there, let me tell him you’re here.” Before she could walk to the back I grabbed her arm.

“Why these niggas in here staring at me like I’m an art exhibit or something?’

“They’re new; they don’t know who you are so all that ass is distracting them.” She chuckled. I let her go to get Vick while I sat down making Dyce and Darius do the same. I made sure to bring their tablets so I gave it to them so they could go on their Nicki Jr apps and play games.

Dime came from the back and told me I could go back. I made Dyce and Darius come with to Vick’s work area. Pictures of his tattoos and drawings covered the walls a long with pictures of him and Gianna.

“What it do little niggas,” He held his hand out for them to give him a pound and they did.

“Don’t call them that, they have names.” I mushed Vick in the head. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“It’s down the hall first door on the right.”

“Aight I’ll be back, watch them.” I went to the bathroom and used it. When I finished washing my hands I walked out to see Nicki coming from the room furthest in the back. That was either Trouble’s work space or the office, which one I don’t know and I don’t care. I just silently thanked God that I changed clothes and had sneakers on my feet.

I shut the door then leaned up against so that when she came down the hall she would see me. There was no way she was going to miss seeing me. As soon as she got close enough to the door she looked up from her phone then sucked her teeth when her eyes landed on me.

“Hey sweetness.” I smiled at her.

“What are you doing here?”

“My cousin is half owner or did you forget? So what’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you came at me before.talking about my kids and my parenting You tried to sneak my cousin; like I said bitch what’s up?”

“You know Trouble is here right?” She said with confidence as if that nigga being here was supposed to mean something to me.

“Okay? The fuck does that have to do with me? He made it so that Darnell wouldn’t touch you, I’m not Darnell and I’m really done talking so just drop your stuff.”

“You want to fight me?” She chuckled.

“It’s not going to be a fight girl trust me.” I folded my arms across my chest and gave shorty a good twenty seconds to drop her things but she never did.

 I shrugged my shoulders before hitting her ass with the cleanest hay maker to the face making her drop to the ground. I could’ve stopped there, been fair and let her get up to defend herself but fuck that. She tried to catch my cousin off guard so fighting fair with this bitch was a not happening. As soon as she hit the floor I was on that ass.

She was trying to fight me off but that shit was no match for the blows I was sending to her face. After I got enough of punching her I stood up and kicked her straight in the face making her nose gush blood immediately. I went to kick the bitch again but I got snatched up off my feet and carried to the front of the shop while she laid there whining like a grown ass man.

Because I didn’t know who grabbed me up I turned my body as much as I could and started swinging.  I good one good punch to the face and I know it was the face because I felt my knuckles hit their nose before they finally let me. When I got free I turned to get a good look and saw it was that Dro nigga from my party.

I was about to say sorry but my hair being pulled from behind cut that off.  I already knew who it was and the bitch was stupid. I was able to turn around and we ended up in a full blown fight in the lobby of the shop. I already knew she was getting knocked down and broken because I could hear shit hitting the ground along with everybody yelling and screaming like some Hyenas.

A part of me was saying take it easy because my kids are in the back but that other part was telling me to give it to this bitch. She’s disrespectful as hell then she had the audacity to do some bullshit with my cousin. In all honesty I wanted the fade the day I met shorty and she called herself telling me about what Trouble said about our situation. Four years of pent up irritation was being taken out on this bitch. I wasn’t stopping until I saw this bitch bleeding and just from the nose wasn’t enough.

I was sending punches straight through this hoe’s face when I got snatched off of her, I wanted to swing again but I knew it was Vick when he made me turn around and he grabbed my face.

“Yo! Relax! Fuck is wrong with you! Your kids are in the back and you out here fighting this bitch?” I looked at her and Trouble was slowly helping her off the floor. I had to stop myself from laughing because her face was FUCKED. Top and bottom lip was busted, nose was bleeding even more, her right eye was fucked up and she had a few knots.

“Fuck her.” I started to walk towards the back so I could get this tattoo finished but I had to pass Nicki and Trouble to do it. I looked at her while she wiped blood from her mouth then punched her ass again before Vick snatched me up.

“What the fuck! Chill yo,” He dragged me to his work area where Dyce and Darius were still sitting down looking at their tablets.  

“Are two alright?” I squatted down and asked them.

“What’s that?” Dyce pointed at the top of my shirt. I looked down and rolled my eyes when I saw the blood stain. “Ketchup,” I went to the mirror Vick had nailed to the wall and looked at my face. I had some scratched on my neck and my hair was all over my head but besides that I was good.

“You care to tell me what the fuck that was about?” Vick questioned.

“Nothing, I told y’all I don’t like her ass yet she keeps popping up. She was at my party where she tried some slick shit with Darnell then you want to call me here knowing Trouble had here too. Y’all wanted this shit to happen.”

“I didn’t know she was here and she was only at your party because Trouble wouldn’t go without her. I didn’t know she was dumb enough to do that bullshit with Darnell. You can’t keep beating her ass though, that’s his woman.”

“Your point?”

“My point is you beat her ass once, dead that shit now.”

“If you’re telling me to not touch her again I won’t as long as she doesn’t do some bullshit. You got any shirts or something?”

“Yeah I got you, hold up.” He walked out the room leaving me there in my thoughts.

“You mad mommy?” Dyce asked me.

“No baby I’m good; keep playing your game alright.” I kissed the top of his head then proceeded to try and fix my hair. I was in the mirror trying to do something to it when the door opened and Dro came in holding some tissue up to his nose. I know I hit him but I didn’t know it was that hard. Shit, I’m low key proud of myself; I made his grown ass bleed.

“You have a mean ass right hook,” He said with a chuckle.

“I know, sorry about that but if you see me fighting don’t grab me. You’ll get clocked every time.”

“How often do you fight?”

“If you’re about to start with the annoying ass questions you can walk right back out the door.”

“You’re a beautiful woman but that attitude of yours is not attractive ma.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused; I know you heard what I said. I don’t know who you’re used to but you need to get that shit straight. Nobody wants a woman who acts like a nigga most of the time. Just keep that in mind.” He said before walking back out and closing the door behind him.

I stood there confused as fuck and stuck because what the fuck? Did that nigga just check me?

[thisolddag]

The Poor Man’s Celebrity

The biggest myth surrounding our new President is that he is going to fight for the “forgotten” American. That he is - despite inherited wealth, a penchant for gaudy opulence and an insatiable itch for celebrity - a man of the people. And that somehow - despite humble beginnings, a self-made career, years devoted to public service and family - Obama is the one that sits atop a gilded tower, looking smugly down on us. This, to me, is the biggest crock of shit, the biggest moral conundrum, and one of the main reasons I cannot understand Trump supporters. And in this case - when I say Trump supporters I mean the ones who feel free to call me out as a disgusting liberal, the ones who defend their vote by referencing The Apprentice, the ones who have no problem tweeting “Now the niggas r gonna have to tie their own shoelaces. Trumpnation!” 

Yes, I loathe them but some days, I pity them. I know a place of hardship; I remember it daily, even now as I type this from my comfy nest. Thirty three years ago, I was an immigrant, a ‘Polack' who started out in this country with nothing, whose parents didn’t speak English, who sweat and toiled so I could feel free to chase my American dream. And I chased it hardcore. But I chased it without blaming ‘the man’, or any man, without passing the buck or the blame, I chased it despite and because of obstacles in my way. I didn’t give a shit who was on welfare, or who was born with a silver spoon in their mouth. I didn’t waste time on envy, bitterness or despair. I chased with all my heart, and begrudged no one along the way. I cheered the ones running beside me, supported the ones behind me, and was driven by the ones way, way ahead. But mostly, I concentrated on my own course. I concentrated on achieving my dreams, in my own way. The stage was set - the glorious American stage, and even though my ‘green room’ was a 2 bedroom apartment in a Flatbush, Brooklyn housing project, I headed toward the light. There is always a light, even though Trump loves to tell his followers that they sit in the dark, and that he, and he alone, can flick the switch. 

(A few months after emigrating to New York, visiting a friend’s house. The button reads “Kiss Me I’m Polish)

Trump has spent his entire existence insulated from reality. His son said so just last week, when asked what would be the biggest adjustment for his father as President.“We’re an insular family.” Trump has not rubbed elbows, spent any real time with, given money to, or shown any interest in those who have struggled. Hiring blue collar workers to build your towers is not the same as sitting down to a meal with them, or truly understating their problems. This egoist, this self-proclaimed germaphobe, this inarticulate fool who has no time or regard for history, news, books, or conversation - has no actual idea what kind of lives his supporters have been living. He didn’t want their stories; he wanted their vote. Shaking hands with the poor on a campaign trail doesn’t count. Making pie crust promises is not the same thing. The man who loves nothing more than coming up with a tagline (MAGA! You’re fired! Lock her up!) is living according to a script he concocted. Words are meaningless now; words are flung “off the cuff,” they are blurbs; they are ‘alternative facts.’ The truth is Trump is a billionaire with a lackluster education who relishes being able to ‘talk down’ to people, who behaves boorishly, whose sound bytes strike an appealing chord with people who have never risen above their means, who remain stuck. This is why he is their star. This is why he got their attention. He gave them permission to stew and rail; and then he held out a glitzy pipe dream and waved it in front of their faces.

Obama, on the other hand, rose up from his circumstances through sheer will and force of spirit, because of faith in himself and in what his country offered. He understood possibilities but didn’t just pine; he worked his ass off. He sought the pinnacle, climbed the ladder, slippery rung by slippery rung. But Trump supporters - the “forgotten” ones - don’t look at Obama as one of their own - when they should - exactly because of the fact that he was able strive and overcome. They don’t see his journey, his elegance and eloquence, as  inspiration. Instead, they see it as a slap in the face. They see his perseverance not as an attribute but as ego, a hidden agenda. And that’s because Obama is black. He is “other.” It’s the simple, hard truth. It is a truth that none of them will admit, because it means something frightening, and in their eyes, demeaning; that a black man raised by a single mother was able to overcome poverty and hardship, and they could not. 

So they turned to an imposter. 

They turned to a man who decorates his mansion with gold and shimmer, a man who has had three beautiful ‘trophy’ wives, who fathered (but did not raise) a multitude of worshipping children, a man who is not a believer, but who has no problem pretending he is. A man who never donned a uniform to serve his country, who brags about not paying taxes, who has appeared in dozens of movies as a caricature of himself (typecasting! SAD!), who grabbed pussies left and right, and whose vocabulary is worse than my ten year old son’s. 

This is their hero. This is their savior. This is their celebrity. This is their President. This man who is not a man but a brand. 

Politics is one thing; politicians fail us all the time, and I know that Obama in some ways, failed people too. I understand. But I also understand that character matters. The God-loving, God-fearing Americans who did vote for Trump; how were they able look past character? Somehow they were able to cast a vote hoping a “successful business man” would help their lives, even though said man had led a life completely at odds with their values. How did they trust a man who cannot be humble, or gracious, or affectionate, a man who surrounds himself with millionaire minions, and tongue-tied lackeys. A man whose life revolves around ratings, who is now starring in yet another shitty reality show, but this time he’s found the perfect audience. And the rest of us? We’re the annoying background; the day players. 

But, we’re not going anywhere. And if yesterday is any indication, we are gonna change the fucking channel. 

Every time I look at him now, every time I hear him bark orders, every time he waves those hands around, hands which never seen a day of hard work, I remember my own beginnings. I remember what I have achieved, and earned. I remember the “forgotten” ones. And I remember that he is not my America, our America. He is not the answer. It is my hope, that sooner or later, we will all get tired of his act, we will take away his script, and together, we will write a brand new one.