What do you do when someone you like…
starts sounding like a press release for a company that’s actively fumbling the bag and the culture?

two weeks ago,
i wandered into the times square target just to peep the vibe.
no mission but just fox-like curiosity.
i’m not gonna hold you:

If there’s a boycott happening,
the memo got lost somewhere with some black folks.

black folks were definitely up in there shopping.
so when tabitha brown,
someone i’ve genuinely liked and respected for her light and warmth,
posted that weird video about…

i can always count on the F-BI to drop something good in my box.
so “unidentified” in the diddy trial from his freak offs has allegedly been “identified“.
apparently,
his meat was pretty identifiable.
everyone “meat”…

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There might be no more meat on our plates off the nets if “they” have their way.

i’ve been saying to myself that OF has been a little dry.
okay,
a whole lot of parched.
remember when scenes use to make you “insta-horny“?
it’s just a lot of yawn nowadays.

Sidebar: the other night I got into this one scene from Cade Maddox.
It had me open,
but I digress.

earlier today,
a F-BI sent me the following:

if what goes through,
you ask?…

I’m starting to think,
and this is strictly in my head,
that Diddy used Cassie as a way to lure males he wanted to fuck.

in my head,
this would be easy in bagging other males who are into other males operate.
the beautiful and “kinda unsuspecting but probably isn’t” vixen = the bait
haven’t we seen many OF videos like this?

x ya’ll not gonna font me that this one wasn’t doing this

i’m not fonting that happened in ^this situation but with others,
they lure the male of interest in as a “threesome” but next thing you know,
a penis is another male’s mouth and she is playing candy crush in the corner.
one the line is crossed,
they are fucking like wild animals on the low (or medium high).
i read a reddit like this i feel i posted about.
a vixen was losing her shit after she saw her manz get pounded in a threesome.
they released all the faces of the male sex workers in this diddy trail and…

I’ve always had a soft spot for the old school hoes.

the ones who knew how to move in silence.
not just the 90s rappers and actors,
but the seasoned professionals of all careers.
the ones who knew how to keep things tight,
classy,
and above all,
private.
i wasn’t taught the game by attentionistos/nistas.
i learned from the real gold diggers.
the ones who bagged the blue checks or the finest of the fine,
whether they were straight or gay,
and like denzel said:

.they moved by a code and had poise.
when it was over…

What if masculinity wasn’t what we were taught to admire?
What if it was something quieter,
steadier,
and far more powerful?

when someone loves us for who we are,
not for our highlight reels,
not for our past,
and not for who they want us to be but:

The real,
unfiltered,
and sometimes ugly us.

yes,
the ugly us.
the one underneath the filters.
the one that has the demons and the insecurities.
when they don’t flinch or are embarrassed at our flaws.
the one who don’t play bout you and will square up if someone disrespects you.

You better hold on to them.
Tight. AF

i used to believe masculinity lived in the gym.
it was big biceps,
played sports,
and an intimidating stare.
some males,
sure,
but i’ve learned:

Just because someone looks like a man,
that doesn’t mean they act like one.

muscles don’t equal depth; a scowl doesn’t make you safe.
masculinity is not a role we play,
a script we memorize,
or photos we post.
it’s how we show up for ourselves and our loved ones,
especially when no one’s watching.
i thought about this when alex fine spoke out after cassie’s testimony yesterday…