[...::Monster::...]

It’s one thing to finally be rid of something or someone that was more hinderance than booster…but it’s another when that someone or something keeps attempting to come back if only to have a little piece of the sunshine you’ve managed to find for yourself.

I don’t like the text messages, the random phone calls that reek of desperation of trying to sneak a peek into how I’ve moved on from you and yours, and I certainly don’t appreciate the jumping into my Xbox Live parties without an invite from me or any of my friends…and subsequently attempting to talk over them as if you had a right to address me anymore.

If there was a way to erase you entirely from my life, I would do it. I’ve already gotten rid of all the pictures of us, videos, text messages, and anything that relates to us. I won’t delete the blog posts, because that’s for those I know to see how far I’ve come from you. If my cell wasn’t used for business purposes, I’d change it just so you couldn’t contact me anymore. But I have to just ignore you, and it seems to be working. I know you’ll never read this, because I know you don’t read anything but texts from your fake-wife or her bad poetry…but I need to vent.

Leave me alone. I can’t wait until karma comes back to bite you in the ass.

 

[...Real Recognizes Real::...]

That phrase may be played out, but its meaning is no less potent and true.

I did some reflecting today that I want to share with you. I have learned that honesty is indeed the best policy, and that the truth may be bloody, ruthless, and brutal, but when the healing is done, you’ll find that the wounds don’t leave scars, and the pain is gone, and that you’re healthier for it.

I had to be honest with someone today. Brutally honest. And it hurts me because this honesty had been building like a cancer in my chest and I had to let it go before the pain became to great, and I can honestly say that I feel a lot better for it. I mean, if I had allowed what was happening to continue, what kind of person would that make me?

A hypocrite, that’s what.

But if this person hadn’t heard me out, then they wouldn’t realize they were actively hurting a lot of people…mainly…a small group of us. I won’t name names, and I won’t even go into the gory details. Most of whom I’m close with already know the story. But I really had to reflect on my behavior. I have changed a great deal since the headstrong, hormone-driven teenager from Shiloh High School. I didn’t know how to choose my battles, swore I was in love with half a dozen different guys, resented my parents (although I will not hesitate to say one of my step-parents deserved this resentment…and still does! You know who I’m talmbout!), and thought socially isolating myself was a sign of uniqueness, not a sign of scared-shitless-of-interaction.

I did my smoking thing, did my underage drinking thing, did that tattoo thing, even did the failing thing. I’ve done a lot of things that are just little chapters of rebellious youth overlapping, and these past few months have seen me growing and changing into an adult. I think, after much screwing (shut up, no pun intended), my head is finally on straight, or at least…facing the right direction, and I have learned that when you’re honest with people, those who know you’re in the right (or at least have a valid point to make) will stick by you no matter how hurt they may be, and those who aren’t ready to face the truth…will angrily run away. Back to their dreams, delusions, and childhood.

In short, honesty is the best policy, and usually only because in how you deliver your honesty. I had to deliver it sharp and efficient, had to put my foot down, lay down the law, and stand my ground, and I am damn proud of myself for finally working up the gumption to be able to do so. I was afraid, and now that it’s over, I am completely content to let the chips fall as they may.

 

[...::Djarum::...]

So, fie on me for my forgetfulness of the new Tobacco Bill Obama passed in September. I purchased a pack of Djarum Blacks the day the bill went into action, completely forgetting that later that day it would be the last pack of Djarums I would ever see in the States. Thanks to idiots like Camel, who started the whole dumb shit of marketing cigarettes to kids, small tobacco companies like Djarum and other companies that sell ‘flavored’ tobacco products are out of business. All except for menthols.

And menthols are just gross.

I miss Djarum Black. And honestly, this bill isn’t going to keep kids from smoking. It’s just going to redirect the traffic of youth experimentation to some other source of underage fun. Just like abstinence-only education doesn’t decrease the rate of teen pregnancies, banning ‘flavored’ tobacco products won’t decrease the amount of smoke try-outs kids are prone to.

I hope they ban McDonald’s next. God knows they’re guilty of the obesity epidemic here.

 

[...::Irony::...]

So he dumped her. I don’t know the gory details, but I’m guessing he did it to prove to me that his balls weren’t in her little Hot Topic messenager bag. I don’t know why he feels he needs to prove to me anything, especially since any chance of romantic reconciliation has burned itself at both ends and has long since cooled. I already know that I can never stomach giving him another chance with me, because I know that he will never change. Better to keep him far away than to trick myself into thinking it’s safe to allow him so close.

In other news, being 21 is not different from being 20. I’m still just as broke as I was prior to my birthday, and I’m constantly out of gas and gas prices are steadily rising again. I am swamped with work and the flu, and my cats have suddenly decided that I make a good pillow. I don’t write much anymore because I don’t have much drive to write these days, and I don’t have time to re-align myself on the path to making my own inspiration and happiness. I’m sure Thanksgiving wil give me the time I need.

I believe a trip to Borders is in order. Time to add some new material to my library.

 

[...::21::...]

To commemorate 21 years of awesome living, ups, downs, and all-arounds, I bought my first legal bottle of wine and finished it this evening with my dinner. It wasn’t top-shelf, but it wasn’t bad for bottom shelf either.

I also engaged in somehwat debauched activities like any twenty-something is wont to do.

It was a good birthday.

 

[...Everything but the Girl::...]

Like the deserts miss the rain.

But at least I can honestly say we are friends again.

All of us.

 

[...:Savage Garden::...]

I honestly forgot how much I loved them.

And given last night’s turn of events, their song “A Thousand Words” is so uncannily apt.

“If I could turn back time, I would. I really wish I had treated you better, Aisha. I’m so sorry all I did was waste your time and break your heart. I hope you’ll forgive me one day.”

If you could turn back time you’d do what? Not cheat on me, lie to me, treat me like shit in front of your underage secret girlfriend, insult my family and culture who took you in when no one else was looking out for your well-being? What could you possibly do, Todd Williams? Short of physical abuse, you’ve pretty much used me and abused me in all the ways you could before you finally decided that I–despite me making the biggest effort to better your life and well-being–was no longer useful.

Please tell me, if you could turn back time, what the fuck would you do? What exactly is that little rugrat you’re dating doing for your life besides wasting your money on stupid shit like sneakers and promise rings, and wasting your gas making you come to Snellville to pick her underage ass up so you can hang out at the mall like a bunch of little ass kids? The bitch can’t even buy a lighter in the store by herself.

I already deleted him out of my phone and shit, but now that I have, he keeps calling me and T-Mobile’s block is retarded since it doesn’t work.

 

[...::American Customs::...]

Promise rings. I thought they were the new-age chastity belt. When the ex explained what their actual purpose was, I laughed so hard I needed a cigarette afterward.

Promise rings are probably the most pointless jewelry pieces ever conceived. But it’s exactly that kind of juvenile shit that his new underage girlfriend likes. Needless to say, I am so glad that I didn’t take that relationship any further with him. Now I remember why I dumped in back in high school. He’s too fucking juvenile. And when I finally let him have it when he insulted me, my family, and my culture, he said he was done. I said there was nothing to be done with, I’m a grown up. You need to catch up. Holla at me in another five years.

And the day someone gives me a real engagement ring, it will not come from some whack ass Kay Jewelers at the mall. Harry Winston or Tiffany & Co, please.

Federal Law prohibits dating women beyond your maturity level.

 

[...::Passing Strange::...]

For all my fury and hurt this week, I am comfortably numb.

This doesn’t change the fact that I want him to die in a fire.

I finally understand that ages-old saying of ‘the truth shall set you free’. It may be a bloody and painful process, but in the end, you feel cleaner for it. Now that I know who you are, and what you have become, I can honestly say that I can walk away from this older and wiser for it.

 

[...::A Message of Closure::...]

Fuck it, I’ll say that bitch’s name on the internet. Maybe her insignificant ass can finally Google herself and this will come up.

You know what? You are scum. The fact that you used me as a stepping stone Sunday night so you could finally start your relationship with Mayima (Mr. IDon’tHaveTimeForAGirlfriendRightNow) is so fucking disgusting. What’s worse is you’re sitting pretty, and not giving a damn who you hurt in the process. I hope you’re ready for the karma you’ll endure in the end. I should have listened when everyone told me you were bad news and it’s my own fault for thinking you were anything more than the insensitive, inconsiderate, philandering worthless asshole you proved yourself to be.

I tried to change who I was for you, and even that didn’t work. I tried to give you space, but I didn’t realize that was your excuse to go cultivate something with someone else. I tried to be your friend, and even that failed. And yet you continued to feed me blatant lies, knowing that my implicit love for you wouldn’t let me see through the bullshit. “I came down here to see you.” No, you came down there to spend the night so you didn’t have to waste time driving to see Mayima the next day. I could see it all in your body language, the way you were leaping to your phone every time she texted you, the way you paced restlessly and left hours earlier than you said you would because she obviously triggered something I never could. All I wanted was for us to get to know one another, and I realize now that you had no intention of ever giving us another chance at all. You shut me out, and for what?

What did I ever do except try to be your fucking friend? I welcomed you into my life, my body, my HOME, and my FAMILY and you fucking spat it in my face. Was it not you who was begging on the phone just last week, in front of my family that you wanted me around more often? That you wanted us to reconnect through our music? That you loved me and that this wasn’t some ploy to lead me along? That there was still a chance for us? If you were trying to get over me, you never should have come to my house that night, but you used me. Used me mercilessly knowing that the next day, you’d cast me aside in favor of the girl who caters to everything you seem to love in a woman that I lack (i.e. lighter skin, silky hair, mixed ancestry, and a love for garbage emo music of today’s ‘rock’ genre).

And you say what I did to you was worse. I hope that in another five years, when Mayima has likely outgrown you, that you realize that in the end, all I wanted was to support you and be with you. Nothing else. But you don’t understand the responsibility of being that important to someone. Maybe Mayima will do a better job than me, since she knows you better than you ever let me try to.

You know what? You are scum. The fact that you used me as a stepping stone Sunday night so you could finally start your relationship with Mayima (Mr. IDon’tHaveTimeForAGirlfriendRightNow) is so fucking disgusting. What’s worse is you’re sitting pretty, and not giving a damn who you hurt in the process. I hope you’re ready for the karma you’ll endure in the end. I should have listened when everyone told me you were bad news and it’s my own fault for thinking you were anything more than the insensitive, inconsiderate, philandering worthless asshole you proved yourself to be.

I tried to change who I was for you, and even that didn’t work. I tried to give you space, but I didn’t realize that was your excuse to go cultivate something with someone else. I tried to be your friend, and even that failed. And yet you continued to feed me blatant lies, knowing that my implicit love for you wouldn’t let me see through the bullshit. “I came down here to see you.” No, you came down there to spend the night so you didn’t have to waste time driving to see Mayima the next day. I could see it all in your body language, the way you were leaping to your phone every time she texted you, the way you paced restlessly and left hours earlier than you said you would because she obviously triggered something I never could. All I wanted was for us to get to know one another, and I realize now that you had no intention of ever giving us another chance at all. You shut me out, and for what?

What did I ever do except try to be your fucking friend? I welcomed you into my life, my body, my HOME, and my FAMILY and you fucking spat it in my face. Was it not you who was begging on the phone just last week, in front of my family that you wanted me around more often? That you wanted us to reconnect through our music? That you loved me and that this wasn’t some ploy to lead me along? That there was still a chance for us? If you were trying to get over me, you never should have come to my house that night, but you used me. Used me mercilessly knowing that the next day, you’d cast me aside in favor of the girl who caters to everything you seem to love in a woman that I lack (i.e. lighter skin, silky hair, mixed ancestry, and a love for garbage emo music of today’s ‘rock’ genre).

And you say what I did to you was worse. I hope that in another five years, when Mayima has likely outgrown you, that you realize that in the end, all I wanted was to support you and be with you. Nothing else. But you don’t understand the responsibility of being that important to someone. Maybe Mayima will do a better job than me, since she knows you better than you ever let me try to.