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…

i asked a friend that question today.

“When did the shift happen in your life?”

it didn’t come from spiritual twitter or seeing angel numbers.
for me:

It wasn’t the death of my mother.
It wasn’t Work Wolf or WW3.
It wasn’t the fallouts with “friends”.

nope…

jackals with horrible pasts have got to learn to shut the fuck up.
it is so weird seeing jackals with abuse/bad behavior behind them,
cosigning other people with abuse/bad behavior in front of them.
chris brown is always interjecting himself with tory lanez nonsense.
when he decided to put his fork down from eating his food to post ^that,
i have never seen such a fast turn around in “shoulda kept that fork in ya hand”.
he posted that may 14th and was arrested on the 15th.

according to “people“….

It was the “peeing in Cassie’s mouth” of me.
TBH,
I’m getting the impression he wanted to humiliate her.
In my head,
and strictly off my opinion,
he always styled her to look similar to JLO to me.
I feel like he had so much resentment over JLO leaving him,
he took his anger out on Cassie.
Peeing on people for sexual purposes always screamed humiliation,
but from a power aspect.
Submitting to my manz is sexy; peeing on me will get him kicked in the balls.

like the last election,
this diddy trial has really exposed so many people.
including some people i know.
it’s quite disappointing tbh.

“She would have left.”
“This is all about money.”
“She needs to be thrown in prison too.”

yet,
with some of these same people…

the day before mother’s day,
i had this dream about my mother i can’t stop thinking about…

Have you ever felt like your life is lowkey under construction,
but you’re the only one standing in the rubble with no blueprint in sight?

i think i finally understand addiction.
that quiet but slippery kind.
it’s where you’re just trying to feel anything “other than”.
we don’t always run to crack.
sometimes it’s just retail therapy,
drink throughout the week,
subbin’ aimlessly to find the best onlyfans,
or racking up trophies through fucking.
anything to dodge the weight pressing down on your chest.
anything to avoid the silence where the truth lives.

i’ve been there lately.
not just emotionally,
but physically cornered.
trapped.
it’s like i’ve been living in a house with no doors,
no windows,
and just a constant draft of bad energy.
that house tho?
that is my current home…