Dick ridin’ aint my thang

Preface: I am a writer, I write what I feel or think, and don’t give a fuck if folks like or dislike; believe or don’t believe what I write, I write for me, it is cathartic. Secondly, I don’t blog to meet dames or impress bitches or women – there is a difference between the three. I write what is me, rather in book form, verse, this blog or the essays I write for newspapers, and even letters. I sign my name to all with pride cause I really don’t give a fuck about what others think about what I write – I am not Ralph Tresvant. In fact, I think a real writer don’t care what folks think or who even reads what the write. Ask The Morehouse school of Medicine. LOL. With that said.

Had a woman once tell me that my ego needed to be stroked; I corrected her and retorted “no maam, just my dick and my stomach and preferably the latter with neck bones, pig ears, hot water cornbread and/or ribs. My ego is cool, so I don’t worry about it but it is my id that I attempt to attend to.” Why do I say this? Well because I figure I know me better than anyone else. Most folks, even those who called themselves knowing or being close to me don’t. They tend to look at the surface contingent as opposed to the action, and use such to distinguish, and even worse define my behavior and what it means.

I know me. I know when I am hungry or horny, or aint had no sleep, I’m not the one to fuck with and can be vile, uncivil and uncouth, albeit folks say that about me anyway. I know that when folks disrespect, lie to me or play me like I’m dumb Jones that I shake and tremble, and have to control myself before shit hits the fan. But they don’t know me. I mean even my daughter mother thinks it means something else, like, well I don’t know what she thinks it means. If my team looses, I can’t look at ESPN or even get the next day’s paper.

When I am called crazy or disingenuous or stupid, I get quiet, or laugh, because stupidity or the suggestion of such is never entertained and considered by me as amusing and worse, a reflection of the thought processes of the one who advocated such - fatuous. Albeit, I do acknowledge the truism that there is a thin line between brilliance and insanity, which I cross all the time like a Mexican in Texas.

But the aforementioned is immaterial. I mean, the ego, is immaterial in my life, as a black man. I mean, if I give my all and put forth effort to be my all, and it is not respected or appreciated, I feel it is taken or that I am taken for granted, which I can’t tolerate. As a consequence, I tend not to focus on it as such. As a black man history has told and showed us what such gets us, typically jail or a noose around our necks. So I aint the one to deal with such. When I look in the mirror, I like and know what I see even if others can’t. Its not my problem nor fault, but rater theirs.

I am one that creates, one with sovereign values, as my old roommate from Morehouse, Malik calls God by nature. Since God is everything, the trees, war, love, sun and even me. I have never been one to follow, instead, I blaze new paths, and set my own trends, this is likely why I aint got no woman today. See I’m looking and require a Michelle Obama, a Coretta Scott King, as opposed to some trick that grew up watching Video’s and places herself above her family. This why I am currently unemployed, because I will not beg for shit but would rather speak my mind and take what ever consequence is handed down as a result of such. This is why I despise fuckboys, liars, and people who play games, because they can never see the real, and may even proffer the gumption to suggest I am playing games because I say what I feel and believe. I may not walk with the majority, but that is ok with me, cause in simple terms, I see myself as the “truth” and dick ridding aint my thang. For I am not my degree but rather my experience and actions, so don’t let the PhD and high IQ and collected street acumen fool you. For it is as ancient Memphis macks say, “see what I am saying, say I see.” vote