Deleted Temptation

I must say that I really must know myself. I've questioned that in the past, but I can honestly say that I can predict some of my potential actions. If there is alcohol involved, I can attest that anything is possible. Alcohol in conjunction wih my cell phone creates a match perfect for some fuckery (literally and figuratively). Maybe a month ago, after a couple of hook-ups, I deleted the phone numbers of a lot of niggas that I just didn't want to mess with anymore. I did this while I was completely sober. I just thought I was getting a little too old and tired of the same ole' niggas bringing the same ole' shit. You know? Sex is good, but it just wasn't working with those that were deleted for a number of reasons. Anyways, this past Thanksgiving holiday, I got pretty tipsy and I started fumbling through my phone looking for those numbers. I was pissed at the time, but delighted to wake up the following morning with no regrets. Now, I'm not saying that I won't be adding to the phone book. I'm just saying out with the old and tired and in with the NEW! Come out! Come Out! Wherever you are! LOL

Officially Missing You

First and foremost, I think that Mrs.Grant Hill is so underrated as an artist. With that said, "Officially Missing You", is not only one of my fave Tamia songs, but one of my all time fave songs of all time. There is a long list and this track falls midway. The song is so appropriate because for a while I've felt as though I was missing something, whether it was physical, spiritual, emotional, i could not decipher. I can definitely say that it's not "someone". Ex's are Ex's for a reason. I have had to come to grips with that factoid through trial and error. Shit doesn't change, it only rearranges. I don't have a thought provoking post, describing the discovery of this missing element. I'm still on the road, going the speed limit these days. I'm not in a rush. All will be revealed in due time. I feel better though, bordering happier which is adjacent to great which is next door to good. I think I'll tell someone that the next time they ask me how I'm doing, lol. I hope all is to the good in the blogosphere.

Jumping Off v.s. The Jump Off

Okay...the flesh is weak...we all have needs...yadda yadda yadda. It boils down to fucking. Someone's gotta do the fucking and someone's gotta get fucked. I have recently found my self in an interesting sexual position....or shall i say a predicament in my sex life. I'm single, or shall I say more single than I've been in a while. I'm not in committed relationship, but I do have strong feelings (love feelings) for a nigga, but that's another post. I'll have to title that one "Confusion At It's Finest". One of ya'll be sure to remind me about that one.

Back on subject....I've found myself messing around with a fuck buddy, cut buddy....a JUMP OFF. Just for kicks. Nothing serious. Just a nut and keep it moving....I don't know if I can do that anymore. In the past, it wasn't a problem. But I felt so unfulfilled, like there should've been so much more to the experience. I almost felt filthy, like I was a manwhore or something. It just didn't click with me. Why does this nigga call me "Bae" and say he loves me and shit now? That's even more of a reason why this jump off shit is for the birds or maybe I need to develop a contract, or better yet sit my ass down and let my trusty appendages do the work in times of need. (But that's no fun) The sex was good.

And then there's the nigga that sends the random texts of "Hey" and shit when he wants to fuck. I occasionally take the bait and go back and forth with him only to drive out to his house to have sex. This is the most random arrangement. The last time we kicked it, I spent the night. We kissed and shit. You know kissing is a no-no! I wanted more. At least I think I did. I know he didn't because weeks will go by before I cross his mind. Same here. I felt like a manwhore. But in this case, I felt like a slutacious manwhore. The sex was good though.

Needless to say, i may need to settle my ass down, because Jumping Off and being The Jump Off just doesn't seem to work for me. There are no guarantees I won't be butt ass naked jumping off into some kind of sexual eruption. Till Then......

My Life...My Life...My Life

Maybe it's because I misplaced my Jill Scott: The Real Thing, but I was compelled to bump Mary J Blige's My Life at work yesterday and today. Depressing? Yes. But It's so necessary right now. Mary isn't the best of singers, but she's got staying power because the girl can really emote on a song, make you feel her pain and joy. Granted, in my current state of mind, I should be listening to something spirirually uplifting. But I can see the light in the dark. I guess I'm weird. To appreciate where you're going, you gotta peer into the past. My Life does that for me. I was young when it came out. Not that I'm ancient now, but I've lived through some "Be Happy", "I'm The Only Wo(MAN)", "You Bring Me Joy", and "You Gotta Believe", But no complaints....It feels good and Mary can serenade me any day. However, the verdict is still out on Growing Pains.