Observations From A Nigga On The Sidelines

I Wonder What It’s Like To Feel Fully.  To Fully Feel.

For A Nigga Who’s Been On The Sidelines As Long As I Have, It Gives You Ample Opportunity To Think Some Things Through.

Sometimes I Wonder How Beautiful Women End Up With Cornballs.

Sometimes I Wonder How Beautiful Women End Up Alone.

Sometimes I Wonder How Ain’t Shit Niggas End Up With Are Shit Women.

Sometimes I Wonder…

These Are Pretty Much The Only Luxuries Afforded To A Nigga On The Sidelines. (Once Polyamory Becomes A Chore)

There’s Gotta Be A Certain Level Of Privilege Afforded To The Cats Who Treat Women Like Shit. Don’t Know If It’s Because They Feel Like Their Time Is More Valuable Than Their Woman’s Time (So Taking Everything For Granted Becomes A Daily Routine, Maybe). Or It Could Be That They Think They Can Get Any Other Somebody At The Drop Of A #Dime? (Probably)(#nopun).

Whatever The Answer To Those ?’s, [Universally Asked Only By Niggas On The Sidelines]  I Can’t Imagine It Making Much Sense Beyond The Realm Of Logical Thinking.

But I Guess There Is Little Logic In Love.

In A Semi-Related Tangent, Some People Say: "It’s Better To Have Loved And Lost, Than To Never Have Loved At All" 

That Quote May Be True To An Extent, But There’s A Certain Rotting That’s Not Accounted For Once The Love Gets Lost. In My Instance, Love Doesn’t Dress In The Form Of Ethereal Wonderment, It Comes In The Form Of Simple Pleasures: Connection. Conversation. Friendship, And All Of The Other Stimulants Needed To Build The Very Big x Very Expensive “Chateau d’Amour” That Sells So Well In Theaters.

There’s Only One Real Winner In That Quote Anyway You Slice It And It’s The People Who Are Still In Love.

For People Have Never Been Fully Loved, Or Have Had The Opportunity To Fully Love, You’re Always In A Constant State Of “What If?” And Even If You’ve Trumped The Personal x Emotional Mountains That Deal With Being Worthy Enough, There’s Still A “Why Not Me?” Component That Is All But Impossible To Get Up x Over.

For The People Who Have Tasted Love Only To Watch It Escape Their Tongues, You Spend Every New Day Chasing A Feeling You Know To Exist, But Can Never Truly Replicate. It’s A Haunting Addiction That Can Paralyze You And Make It Harder To Open Yourself Up To The Point Where That Drug Can Again Find Your Being Habitable.

It Sucks Mostly Because You Know What Stimulating Conversation, Palpable Connection, And Friendships (Or More) Can Do, And Yet Here You Are Wallowing Away Either Talking To Dumb People Who Make You Wonder How They Made It This Far In Life, Or Stuck With Yourself x The Many Internal Battles That That Ultimately Brings.

And That May Be The Shittier Option Of The Two. You Don’t Really Know How Good Or Bad You Are At Life, At Love, And At Expressing Emotion If You’re Always By Yourself. It’s Like Constantly Running Scrimmages Against Your Own Team. You Can’t Really Anticipate Game Speed If You’re Not Playing In A Real Game. And It’ll Reach A Boiling Point Where You’re Tired Of Seeing The Same Face Over x Over. You Wanna Put The Pads On And Hit Someone Else For A Change…Metaphorically Speaking.

So I Guess That Leaves Us Here, Where It Has Always Left Us. The Only Place That You Find Solace In x Can Get Something At Least Semi-Tangible From: The Written Word. When All Else Fails, Write Some Shit Down And See If It Sticks, See What Comes Of It. Things May Not Always Change Outwardly, But There’s Something Stirring Inside That May Yet Resemble That Ethereal Thing You’re Chasing.

Like Most Of My Writing, This May Only Make Sense To Me. I Like To Be Selfish In That Way. Cause No Matter What, It’s The One Love I Can Truly Always Depend On.


Akon | Ghetto
Dear Mirror
Dear Mirror,

It’s About Time We (You?) Ended This Ruse. The Jig Is Up And No One Even Batted An Eyelash. Not One Iota. Give It Up Already. Energy Spent On Others Is Useless At This Point Even Though The Reason You Stated This Charade Was To Get Them To Blink. If They Still Fail To See What’s In Front Of Them Then They’ve Left You No Alternative But To Internalize In The Right Direction. Do. You. And You Only. No One Else Is Here To Feel Your Pain, To Drink Your Sorrows, To Flesh Through The Scattered Webbing Of Thoughts And Brain Tissue…That’s Not Their Job, Even Though The Reason You Started This Was To Get Them To Do What They Weren’t. Approval Is One Of The Most Fleeting Landscapes/Horizons To Look For.

There’s No Telling What Might Happen When A Warm Heart Turns Cold…Take That Chance. Make That Leap. With Ice Being Pumped In Your  Veins, You’re Bound To Be Fearless Now.
Usually It’s You Mirror, Whom I’m Supposed To Lament Over These Flaws Of Mine, But Maybe It Was Your Cruel Joke That Forced Me To Find Those (Flaws) Away From Your Vanity Wall.

You’re Supposed To Help Me Let Go Of What’s Gone Mirror, But All I See Is My Past Reflected. Even When I Know I Can’t Move Backward, Being Able To Look Can Be Crippling Enough.

It’s Time To Break These Crutches.

Jericho - Break The Walls Down

I Think That I’ve Become A Guarded Person For Really Selfish Reasons, And Now It’s Not Just A Simple Task Of Flipping A Switch And Allowing People In.

Wherever “In” Is. If “In” Even Exists

I Feel Like People Have To Earn What’s Behind Whatever Internet Presence/Extroverted Persona I Portray, But I Also Know I’ve Lost Some Really Good People To My Tendency To Be Stubborn.

But Alas…

I Wanna Say That I Used To Be Guarded For The Natural Defense Mechanisms One Would Tend Towards When They Feel The Need To Protect Themselves.

Now I Feel I’ve Dug Myself In So Deep, I’m Almost Just Guarding Myself For Sport Now, Though I Can’t Think Of What I Get If I “Win” When All I’m Doing Is Losing Small Bits Of Sanity Along The Way.

Earnestness, Honesty, And Full Disclosure Have Never Been My Most Glowing Attributes, And I Won’t Portend To This Bit Of Writing Being A Precursor For Some Kind Of Change But Hey, At Least I’m Aware Of It.

Totally Past The Denial Stage.


I Battle Against Perceived Certainty Daily.

More Like Societal Certainty.

I’ve Always Played Well Against What And Where People Said I Should Be As If Their Barometer On How I’m To Live My Life Is A Measuring Stick I’m Supposed To Willfully Fathom, Let Alone Entertain.

Disproving Notions Is A Personal Pastime Of Mine And This Idea That I’m Supposed To Live By A Certain Amount Of Already Imbalanced Rules When I Clearly See Other People Not Living By Them, Is Ludicrous.

I’m A Rebel Only Because My Experiences Made Me This Way.

They Don’t Want Riots On The Assembly Line.

I Could Have Been A Completely Upstanding Member Of Society…

If They Played By The Rules.


Trust. Respect. Honesty. Loyalty. Appreciation.

These Are All Important Cogs That Make Up The Foundation For Love, Or At Least What We Expect It To Be.

A Feeling We Chase Daily, And At Its Apex, An Experience So Special, It Is Both Incredibly Fake And Totally Real.

It’s An Esoteric Happening That Also Happens To Be A Very Grounded Emotion. This Idea Of Love That Most All Of Us Strive For Only Exists When Each Piece Of The Foundation Is Intact.

What Most People Think Love To Be, Is Usually Just A Series Of Fleeting Moments Quilted Together To Mask The Fact That The Foundation Is Indeed Broken.

Those Fleeting Moments Can Confuse Us, Confound Us, Undermine Our Right Mind, And Trick Us Into Doing Things More Quickly Than We Normally Would Have Under Less Emotionally Vulnerable Circumstances.

Falling Too Quickly In Love Can Result In Realizing Too Late That You’ve Made A Mistake, And That’s Probably The Worst Kind Of Position To Be In Because You’ve Settled.

Settled Into A Relationship With No Real Support, Trapped Right Back At The Beginning: Chasing An Idea.

Please Don’t Listen To Me Though, I’ve Never Been In Love.

I’m Just A Nigga On The Sidelines.


I Usually Battle Back And Forth With How Much Of Myself I Give To The Internet And What The Projection Of Me Must Be Like To People On The Other Side Of The Screen.

There Are Pockets Of Revitalization In Sharing Your Life In Stages On A Daily Basis Through Writing.

I Think I Like The Idea Of Sharing Myself With The World This Way.

I Certainly Like The Idea Much More Than I Like The Actuality Of It, Which Is How A Good Majority Of Us Are Wired About A Good Majority Of Things We See On The Greener Side Of The Grass.

I’d Like To Believe That I Could Write The Goings On In My Life In A Public Forum And Have The Energy Of Strangers And Non-Strangers Serve As Some Sort Of Therapy For Me.

But My Wandering Eye Won’t Let Me Share It With World Wide Web, If I Haven’t Yet Shared It With The Old World: Outside Where Existence Is Still Tangible In Ways That Aren’t Illuminated By A Backlight.

I Admire The Various People I Follow That Share Their Hearty Stories Of Daily Life And The Release They Get From Intimate E-xpression, Almost To The Point Of Envy.

Then I Reel Myself Back In.

The More I Think About Writing About Myself In A Way That Gives Myself Up To This Cyber Energy (Energy I Certainly Don’t Take For Granted) The More I Sense Myself Losing What I Could Potentially Give To Someone Or Something Or Some Place Away From The Consumption Of Avatars Who May Or May Not Be Listening.

Plus, My Vanity Tends To Show Up In Different Ways That Have Little To Do With Writing.

I’m Forever Fascinated With The Idea Of Giving Yourself To The Experience And The Preserving Those Memories Until The Right Anything Comes Along That Presents Itself As Worthy Of Breaking The Seal.

That’s Not To Say That I Don’t Put It On The Page At All..I Just Feel That Less (In Public) Is More.

Maybe I Just Like The Fantasy Of Someone Finding All These Thoughts, Stories And Anecdotes When I’m Dead And Making Good Use Of Them. Or At Least Better Use Than I Could Have..

Yet Here I Am Writing About How I Shouldn’t Be Writing About Myself.

I’m Probably Just A Hypocrite.