Wednesday, January 09, 2008

This is for your own safety

I'm about to discuss some real personal shit, which may or may not be for the faint of heart. Now, don't get yourself hyped up, because it may not be that exciting. I'm not even completely sure what I'm going to say here. But, at least you can say you've been warned.

A week or two ago, I was talking to my pops. In the past year, I've added roughly 20 pounds to my already overburdened frame. As it is the beginning of the year, there are a host of weight loss programs trying to get you down with their shit, and I was politicking with him over some choices. Somehow, we got into how I just love food -- arguably a trait that I inherited from him. He then said, "Well, that's understandable. What's probably going on is that you're using food as a companion."

*SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECH* Did my pops just say that I'm not getting any dick, so I've made pie my lover? You fanny pack wearing mutha...

In the two years that I've lived here, I haven't dated much. Admittedly, though I lacked quantity, the quality was nice. We're talking late 20s/early 30s, so that's how it should be anyway.

Let me go on record as saying that (partially due to circumstance, dating out of my area code and such) I have more fingers and toes than I have had sexual encounters in the last two years. It's not surprising. I work, I have kids, I write, I spend time plotting and scheming my way to greatness, I don't go out much. At the present time, I'm still dealing with whatever feelings I have for El Chupacabra Hunter. So I haven't always had the time, and more recently, the inclination to be involved with anyone on that level. I simply take matters into my own hands, as it were.

But I think I've lost my mojo.

Make no mistake, extra poundage and all, I still have "it." Men dig me. If I were a lesbian, I'd be backstroking in hoes. I've got swagger because, though I can use improvement, I like what I see in the mirror. I fucks with me. That's not the issue.

Recently, more times than I care to count, while attempting to ascend Mt. St. Mamba, and . . . remember that time in Spiderman 2, when he was sailing through the sky, then suddenly, he couldn't get his web off? Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh . . .




For the record, me, my pieces, parts, and "trusty friend" are like *crossing fingers* THIS son! This is me baby! It's win-win. I don't have to finesse my own ass, I don't need to consult Google maps for directions, I don't have to ask myself if I had a good time. YOU DAMNED RIGHT I HAD A GOOD TIME. Therefore, this new situation is quite disturbing. A couple of times, it has ended with me throwing up my hands in disgust and saying, "This is some old bullshit!"

I've tried switching up the game - porn, "mood lighting," throwing on sandals and capris and reciting bad poetry - yet the only thing missing is the Family Feud buzzer sound.

This is a major issue for me people. And do not think for one moment that this has not been reflected in my disposition. Grizzly came around here talking that dumb shit, and even his socially inept ass looked at my face and realized that he'd better break out. I'm screaming on old folks in traffic, I almost punched a cashier, and I asked a stupid customer service rep if her parents were siblings.

I feel compelled to state for the record that I'm not peddling my ass on the net, nor am I looking for offers. I'm really beyond the random hook-up/maintenance thing. I know that this is the symptom, and not the problem, but getting to the root of this problem is crucial. I considered titling this blog "The Audacity of Busting a Nut," but I don't want no beef with Obama. Therefore, I'll just close with a little of Jill Scott's "Celibacy Blues."

This here celibacy thing
Lawd, just got something over me
Like an addict, I could really use a thing
You know what I'm talking about
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

It's been hard to sleep at night
And ying ying ying ying just ain't
Scratching it right
I get some new batteries almost every night
Lawd,this here celibacy thing

The stresses of this world
You know how they come down on a girl
I'm trying to clear my mind
But all I seem to find
Is this gangsta,gangsta,type of need

People say mind over matter
But,I don't mind what they say
And it don't matter
This here celibacy thing
Is working on me...


Clifton said...

I'm not going to pretend to say I went through this same thing. We do have some similar circumstances so I can only give you my take on it. The reason your mojo doesn't appear to be there is because it's hard work trying to rebuild a life, social network, getting used to new surroundings, dealing with trauma, and all that other shit. Trust me when I tell you, if you really dealing with this Katrina shit on every level, sex is gonna be hard to focus on. I got a homeboy running through New Orleans and Houston chasing tail yet his ass is homeless and unemployed. When he stops to work on that his mojo is gone too.

Stay Strong

jali said...

I KNOW of what you speaketh. I KNOW.

Once, I cheated on my right hand with my left hand - that was about as exciting it got for a little bit.

I just came back out into the sunshine, and it was worth waiting for the quality man to arrive.


Breez said...

@ clifton - funny you should say that. i'm coming to grips with the fact that after two years, i still feel displaced. i haven't made many friends, my kids haven't made friends outside of school, and i'm scared to get attached. i still don't feel like i belong here, and i don't feel like i belong home. the unfortunate flip side about your friend is that women are allowing their tails to be chased by his homeless, unemployed ass. that's an ENTIERLY extra blog post.

@ jali - i don't regret holding out for suitable companionship. but damn...can i get MYSELF to bust a nut? for real?

Another Conflict Theorist said...

Peace Sis,

I can't offer you any advice on this because a) it doesn't take much to get me going and b) I'm pretty adept at fakin' it 'til I make it but having admitted advice is to embrace not needing it. Before long, you'll go back to obsessing over it so I say enjoy this (probably short-lived) ride while it lasts. Also, I think Cliff's dead-on. Right now you've got got bigger fish to fry.


Not So Old Soldier said...

I feel you sister. I've been at this thing a while too. Let's just say I no longer need help opening jars and I move my own furniture. Once you clear your head a bit, you'll be back to enjoying yourself.