People are just infatuated by looks and what they think they know. They don’t know that everyone wears a mask. I’m one of a kind. I do things out of heart and soul. That’s how it’s been, always been and will be. People can sit here all day and say they want something real. A real friendship, real relationship; real love. But how many people done folded on me when I was suffering? How many memories did I kill to survive? How many people did I take in? Let’s not forget who’s house we were kicking it at.
I did so fucking much for people in the past, I still kind of do. I know what it feels like to go home to home that doesn’t feel like home. My family dynamics and drinking problems. I enjoy cooking so much and drinking because I loved sitting in a room with people who are able to be vocal about their past, their problems, what goals they have. Their dreams. For some fucking reason being or used to being around people who were broken like me brought me comfort.
My home was always open for ANYONE. I created a safe haven. Where all there was, was me, an amateur therapist. A home where anyone can come home to, if they couldn’t go home. If they were hungry, wanted to drink and talk about it or just simply sleep because they haven’t in so long.
Look at where that got me, as soon as shit hit the fan; only my real friends pulled up, family. I thought everyone was my friend, I thought everyone got me like I had them. I thought peoples loyalty matched mine. If you know, you know me: I don’t ask for much. I just ask you have my back when I can’t do this shit alone. I was tired of feeling I was in this shit alone.
FUCK ALL THAT. People only ever asked me about me and whatever the fuck I was going through because they were curious and noisy. Not because they actually give a fuck about me. That’s real. That’s reality. Through that I learned to be independent. I learned to be alone and it did get lonely at times. Somehow I got used to being alone. I started enjoying my own company. Now the company of other good people. Genuine, really genuine people.
People fail to realize that my loyalty runs deeper than anything else in this damn world. I’m a fucking asshole but when I love, I love fucking hard. How does one who never receive any of that, missed it all through out their lives be able to love so fucking deep? And I can’t control it. I can’t help how I feel or how I get so invested, dedicated to everything and everyone I love. I believe that we have friend soulmates then love soulmates.
I got bitches from my past still coming at me sideways. It’s fucked up. Once you’re in the mentality to drag me down, sit there and wait for me to fail and have another downfall... I can’t ever look at you the same. Bitches be acting like I’m not about that shit. I’m not going to fight you because we used to be GOOD MF friends. But if you do me dirty and fuck with mines, there’s no telling how far I’d go.
That’s the scary part. I’ve killed my angry side. I went to therapy for so long. I managed my anger. Still, don’t get the game fucked up because if I had to, if it comes down for it, I’ll fuck up anyone that crosses me. That comes for me. ALONE. Without the glock. Without my homies. I ain’t no pussy. And I ain’t no snitch either. THEN I got old “friends” who done trying to start shit, fuck up my moms house out of pettiness and anger. Who now want to ask my homegirls and I to kick it. Put the past behind?
What kind of shit is that? It ain’t my fucking problem that your other friends became exactly what I said they’d turn out to be. Ain’t my damn fucking fault, y’all choose to kick it with a bunch of drug addicts and people who were doing and going nowhere in life. I ain’t tryna sound rude or stuck up. But look at what could’ve been. We could’ve ALL graduated together. We could’ve been riding in the nicest cars we worked for. We could’ve been kickin’ it, having feasts. Fuck that! I don’t eat with people who didn’t starve with me. There’s no more seats at my table for people who left dinner early.
I’m not afraid of dying, I was never afraid of it. I was afraid of living. Now I’m out here living my life like I don’t have tomorrow. Tomorrow ain’t promise. I have to live. I have to make new memories. Good ones. My mind, my heart and soul is finally at its peak. I’m at peace. This was peace I’ve longed for. Peace I’ve been wanting, craving and needing. “I'm cut from sum different, really bleedin the circumference.” - Mozzy
No matter how many times I’ve been fucked over, hurt, abused mentally, emotionally and psychically. I still love like I ain’t never been hurt or been through all the bullshit I was put through. And I don’t forget the hands that fed me. I don’t forget people who’ve helped me or at least tried. That’s what with today’s society/reality. It ain’t my damn fault people never learned to love or tamed their own trauma.
Seek a fucking damn therapist. Talk about that trauma, talk about that ptsd. Kill your past; your bad side. I always believe that everyone has a good side. It just takes work to work on it. It takes patience, time and effort to get the good side out sometimes.
Don’t let one fucked up thing, RUIN a good thing. And that’s the thing, people are so afraid of trying, they’re so afraid of getting hurt or left. That they never take chances. With life. With love. Don’t sit around settling in your comfort zone, don’t sit around waiting for the right one. Fall in love with new things, new people. Go out and live.
I wake up everyday doing one thing that scares me. I have to face those fears. I have to take risks because if I don’t, I’ll never know what else is out there in the world. I’ll never know how many other good souls are out there and there’s more than 8 billion people out there. Why settle? Why settle for half ass friends, family, things and people. When there’s the WHOLE world out there?
Good morning. 💙