Scottie Pippen Is A Better Man Than Me

102216-sports-future-larsa-scottie-pippen I don’t write a lot about pop culture or celebrity gossip but is something really gossip if all the parties involved acknowledge it happened? When your woman is on social media all over a guy you really can’t blame anyone else but her. Don’t get mad at the paparazzi or blogs for reporting on a fire that her and Future started.

Why is Scottie Pippen a better man than me? I’m not one of those guys that’s going to pretend like I would never take a woman back for cheating. I’ve never had to make that decision but I can imagine that if you love a woman enough anything is possible. See, it’s not the cheating, it’s the flaunting it to the world that would close that door for me. Allowing another man to basically say, “This isn’t my woman, just a lil something I’m messing around with right now.” I can’t do it bro. Call it pride, call it arrogance, I don’t care. I mess up and you go out and get in another relationship, that’s on me. I mess up and you become a full on groupie? Girl bye.

Future has become our generations fu*kboy idol. I really do wish I could use a better term and believe me I racked my brain trying to find one but this is the most accurate term possible. He raps about drugs, how little value women have and hates the mother of his child because she moved on and found happiness. And before I get the, “It’s just music” crowd commenting. It can’t be just music when you not only rap about taking another man’s wife but you snapchat it and tweet about it and take pride in it. There are a generation of tattoo’d, skinny jean wearing, penicillin taking guys that idol the ain’t shi*ness of Future. Your wife leaves for him, you just have to throw the whole wife away and get a new one before Trump bans her country.

To be fair, I’ve never been married so maybe I don’t understand the love and energy it takes to fight for a marriage when you know you’ve both done wrong. Regardless of all of that, can’t do it bro. I wish Scottie the best and I hope Jordan forgives you for bringing this sort of energy to the legacy of the Bulls.

Don’t Call Her Insecure Unless You’re Willing to Call Yourself Insincere

Cute Sweatshirts

Cute Sweatshirts

What’s worse than being lied to? It’s having the feeling that you’re crazy. Some women call it intuition, some men call it having a feeling in your gut but it’s all the same for all of us. Those moments where you’re in the shower or driving to work and something just doesn’t feel right.

You can’t put your hand on it, you don’t have any real proof but whatever it is, is just nagging at you. A part of you wants to ask questions, investigate but you don’t want to be crazy. He’s already told you everything is okay, there’s nothing going on so why sabotage your own happiness?

As men and even women in some cases a well-placed or timed lie that you think does no harm makes all the sense in the world in that moment. “I don’t want to argue so let me just tell them what I think they want to hear.” The problem is maybe you can get away with one small lie but small lies often lead to bigger lies and now her insecurities are rooted in your insincerity. Insecurity and insincerity are like termites, constantly eating away and ripping at the foundation. On the outside everything looks fine, the house is clean and the dishes are put away but right beneath the surface is chaos.

In the past I’ve written about gender roles. Being a man isn’t about opening a door or buying dinner, of course those things will put a smile on her face but it’s more than that. Most women, regardless of how many articles or “love experts” tell you otherwise only want honesty. They only want you to be the man you were when they first met. They don’t want to have to guess at whether or not you’re going to be a different guy every day.

Making her feel like she’s crazy because she has doubts when you know you’ve given her reasons to have doubts is not cool. There’s a good chance you’ll lose her and is anything worth that?

~ Demez F. White

Voices In the Darkness

Voices In the Darkness

At times no matter how hard I try and ignore them the voices never go away.

In my dreams, in my nightmares, they wake me out of my sleep and terrorize me. Pulling me astray.

You’re all alone they say, you’re no good they say, why are you even here? Alcohol stops them at times but they don’t go away.

Anger gives way to solitude, solitude gives way to sadness, sadness gives way to hopelessness. No matter how hard I pray or ignore them in my heart I know the voices will eventually take me into their darkness.

Most of my life has been spent alone. Even in a room full of family and friends, there’s no one. With women on top of me, soothing me, still alone. Just me and the voices.

My phone rarely rings anymore. Text are few and in between. All that is left is my writing and I fear I’m slowly losing that with the lose of my desires, my dreams.

I’ll keep fighting the voices. I’ll keep remembering all that’s good within me but my fear is that my destiny walks hand in hand with my destruction.

~ Demez F. White

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Women, Double Standards and Fireworks…

black woman crying I’m the first man to admit that being nice and being weak aren’t the same thing. When women are younger I can see how they confuse the two but there’s not really an excuse for it as they get older. This is a known and something I’ve written about several times so I won’t go there tonight. Tonight I want to write about something else.

Double Standards.

You want to know something I will never understand despite my intelligence and slight arrogance. How can women deal with men that cheat, lie, are emotionally or in some cases physically abusive? How can women accept disrespect and disinterest for years in some cases from men that are just bad guys? How can they accept this and forgive them time after time but yet some men can’t so much as make a slight mistake and he’s dismissed? It’s like the higher you set the standard, the less room you have to screw up. Does that make much sense?

This last couple years I’ve personally dealt with so many women that get so dismissive or upset over the smallest things I do. Just so we’re clear, some have been romantic situations but most are strictly plutonic. Women that have gotten married and kept ex-boyfriends has friends but erased me. Women that I helped stand up after rock bottom but because I didn’t call for a week or said no they lost their mind. Long nights talking about men that stole money, slept with their friends, didn’t take care of children, broke promises… Men they forgave easily but I didn’t deserve that same forgiveness? You have to understand, I can deal with a woman not being interested, that happens to the best of us. It’s the other side of the coin that sort of takes a little bit out of me each time it happens.

With each time I feel myself becoming just a tad bit colder. I feel myself becoming a tad bit more annoyed. I’m a good listener, a good friend, not because I want to in most cases but because I know how it feels to feel like there’s no one to talk to, I know how it feels to simply want to vent.

The way I’m starting to feel I’m just not sure anymore. I could have really used a friend today and instead I have my writing and my music, it’s a cold world right?

You’re Single Until You’re Married…Though Single Doesn’t Mean Available

FB-Ring.jpgWhy does the minister say, “If there is anyone here who objects to this Union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace? It’s because once you’re married no man or woman can come in-between the bond that God has Christened. There are no such vows or bonds for your girlfriend or boyfriend or baby daddy or boo or whatever you want to call the person you’re spending time with. People have this nasty habit of giving husband/wife rights to people that quite frankly don’t deserve those rights. I’m a very upfront man when it comes to the women I desire. If I think she’s too good for him or isn’t happy why ignore that? Is my loyalty to a man I’ve never met or is my loyalty to my own happiness?

Don’t misunderstand me, if someone is in a healthy and happy relationship that’s progressing and growing and flourishing I’d be a real ***** ass guy to try and get in the middle of that. But if I can see she’s only in there because she’s settling or because she feels like she has to be loyal then it’s completely fair to speak with her and to see if the door is open for a courtship.

I’m not a bad guy, I’m just willing to write what most people think but are afraid to say out loud for fear of being labeled unflattering names. You don’t think there was a woman in President Obama’s life before Michelle? Or a woman in Boris Kojo’s life before Nicole? I’m not saying these women took these men from whatever woman but I am saying that there was a point when they were dating other women and these women separated themselves from the pack.

As a man that loves women the worst image in the world to me is a grown woman that’s been with the same guy for two or three or four years and he’s given her a child. He’s told her a million times that he’s going to marry her one day but there she sits waiting for him to grow up and do right by her. What I want to scream to that woman is, “If he was going to marry you he would have done it by now!!!” She’s loyal, faithful and wants nothing more than him not realizing she’s single. Not realizing that man is simply killing time until he meets a woman worth marrying. The biggest mistake men and women make is mistaking loyalty for ignorance. Being faithful to a man or woman that doesn’t want to do right by you doesn’t make that man or woman stupid. It makes you stupid. You’re single until there’s an “I do.” Now single doesn’t mean available but it’s still single none the less.

The Week I Lost Faith In Women…

wpressI’ve spent the majority of my life living by one general principal, and that’s that all women are good. That even if she’s slept around or lied or did things that she regrets it was only because there wasn’t a man in her life that helped her realize her potential. Whether it be a father, a big brother, a boyfriend or husband.

I just never accepted the idea that once a good girl goes bad she’s gone forever.

This week however has opened this writers eyes. I honestly don’t think most women want what they think they want. They don’t want a good guy to build a life with, they want Scandal. They like the idea of emotional fights and cheating and good vs. evil. They like feeling like he’s torn on whether he wants her or the field.

I’ve spent the last four years taking up for women, writing about how men have to do better. How men have to step up and take care of children we father and women that love us. But what I’ve never went in on is the fact that these women know these guys aren’t about shit when they sleep with them, when they children for them. When a woman makes a conscience decision to go out with her girls instead of going to dinner with a guy that she likes but maybe doesn’t LIKE. She’s dug her own grave. At this moment, right now, I have no more compassion for them. Single moms, chicks with broken hearts and bad credit due to letting guys play them. That’s on them!

As a man I have my flaws, I’ll admit them openly and readily and I’ll accept my role in any situations I’ve been in that didn’t work. But what I can also accept is that fact that I’m just tired, I really am. I’m tired of always doing right by people that don’t appreciate it, that don’t realize just what sort of man I am.

I meet women close to their home when we go out because I don’t want them to have to drive far. I call a lot of times instead of texting because I know they hate that. I don’t do bugaboo sort of shit because I’m not build like that. I live my life by a code… I’m not going to do to you what I wouldn’t want you doing to me.

But on the eve of our Lord and Saviors birthday I just don’t know anymore. I just need more. I need to have my faith renewed.

Because right now all I see is a life of writing, alcohol and solitude.

Mutual Hate and Grief…

Skin.

A layer of skin is the difference between her being a murderer and a suicide victim. If she’d stabbed my child two months later she’d be in prison for the rest of her life but she stabbed him while he was still in her body. Women love to talk about how it’s “their body, their right” but what about my rights?! My fucking justice!

Watching her in the hospital room, lying in the bed I could feel nothing but hatred. The bitch wanted to hurt me, she wanted me to not just feel the pain she was feeling but to feel a pain that no man or woman should ever feel. The pain of burying your child.

Closing the door and blinking away the tears that I could no longer control, I sat at her bedside and shook her awake. Her eyes were red, she was groggy but she knew who I was. The look in her eyes wasn’t one of sorrow or regret, it was one of hate. She blamed me for the murder just as much as I blamed her. “I hope the bitch was worth it,” she said. I kissed her on the forehead and responded, “Say hello to my son for me.” I gripped my hands around her neck, she was too medicated and weak to scream. The harder I squeezed, the harder I cried. The blood vessels in her eyes popped, her body went limp and I let go…  She gasped for air and I placed my head in her lap. She was coughing and choking but she put her hand in my hair as I lay on her thighs. I hated her, she hated me but no one else knew what I was feeling but her and that bond kept me from killing her. That bond kept me from loving Alexis.

She’s Not You…

She didn’t have a Twitter and she rarely posted anything on FB but her best friend was the biggest attention whore ever. She let the world know her entire life and usually I ignored everything she posted but tonight was different.

“Going to Sugarhill tonight to turnup with my girl! You chicks are bragging about costume jewelry and she’s a Dr.! The youngest professor at St. Thomas University!”

Six months ago I wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving my pregnant wife to go see the woman that said no to me. Six weeks ago I was down to only thinking about her when I slept. Six days ago I kissed my fiancé and didn’t compare their lips to each other for the first time. But six hours ago she called me and her voice was echoing in my mind, every memory, every argument, every touch. The scenes playing in my head like a movie. “I’m going to Starbucks to get some coffee, get some writing done. You need anything?” She pulled me to her and kissed me, said just be safe. It was the first lie I’d ever told her. I needed to see Alexis.

It was 3am and I knew the club was closed but habits didn’t change. There was a bbq truck in 3rd Ward that her and her friends ate at faithfully. My logic was simple, if she was there we’d talk. If she wasn’t, I’d stop and get some coffee and go home to the woman that was carrying my child.

Turning the corner off of Scott you’d have thought it was 10pm instead of 3am. Cars were every where, I forgot it was homecoming weekend. I pulled into the parking lot and there she was, leaning against a car trying not to waste bbq sauce. I knew every woman with her and they were all laughing and eating.

Walking up to her, jeans and a t-shirt, thin leather jacket I didn’t say anything. Neither did she. I was afraid because looking in her eyes I knew she was feeling what I was feeling.

“You look good Lex.”

“You still have that jacket huh?” She laughed, I wiped some sauce off her chin. All her friends watching, quiet, like they were in a theatre.

I asked her could we talk for a minute. She told me to go home and talk to my wife. I stepped into her space, her friends looked like they were all ready to jump on me, they knew our history, our story. She put her hand on my chest to push me back, she told me whatever I needed to say I could say in front of her girls. I looked each of them in the eye. She threw her food at me and tried to hit me, I caught her wrist and kissed her. Why are you here?! Why couldn’t you wait on me?! Go home to your bitch! ‘She’s not you!’ I yelled. ‘She’s not you.’ I said. She grabbed my shirt, I didn’t fight her. Her friends gasped, my fiancé was watching and holding her stomach. Fuck my life…

Can You Turn A Hoe Into A Housewife? Maybe I Don’t Want A Housewife

The original topic of this post was “Can Hoes Be Rehabilitated?” However I have a standard to live up to and I didn’t think it was appropriate to use that word in a title. But it’s the same concept either way.

Let me first say that when I use the word “hoe” I’m speaking of any man, woman or little green creature from out of space that sleeps around with multiple people at a given time. Ex. Robert goes out with three women in seven days and sleeps with all three on a rotating basis. He’s not conflicted or “just living his life,” Roberts a hoe.

 

Let me also say that contrary to what we may think; there is no way of knowing who someone was before you met them. You can go buy by rumors and gossip if you’d like but that’s not real life. Unless you actually know guys that you trust that say, “Your girl used to get around.” I’d think it’s a bad investment to believe much of what you hear.

But back to the question at hand, regardless if you have proof or not you have a pretty good idea if the person you’re in a relationship with or falling for is a hoe or used to be. They’ll be conversations that come up, things he/she says and you’ll know.

The thing is… Have they changed? Can they change? And I personally think the answer to that question is yes.

Look. There’s lot of reasons why people turn to sex as a way of coping. They could have gotten played and they’re taking out their resentment on the opposite sex, they could have been raped or molested. Those are the extremes and if you read my writing you know I don’t deal in extremes, those people need help and most of the time once they find someone that’s willing to be patient with them they’ll resort to who they were before they were hurt.

I’m speaking or writing on the men/women that get around simply because they want to. It could be chicks that plane hop every weekend to have fun and talk to ballers. It could be guys that sleep around because they get bored quick or they just like sex and don’t want to settle down. Those are the people that do most of the ratchet and freaky things and I do think they can change.

I’ve known enough women in my life and if a woman is in her early 20’s and living life, sleeping with guys, drinking and partying, why is that wrong? From a social and mental standpoint? If she’s single and free why can’t she be a freak per say? It’s the same for a man… If he’s fresh out of high school or college and decides that he wants a different woman every week but is honest about it, who are we to judge? To be honest I think hoe’s make the best wives and husbands because unlike the people that have been in relationships since they were 18 and 19 these people have gotten it all out of their system.

She’s slept with everyone from paid guys to smart guys to foreign guys. So if she’s settled down now you know it’s because she had options but she wants to be here with you. She’s making a conscience choice to put up her hoe hat and accept that it’s out of her system. The same with men, he knows how easy it is to get laid, how easy it is to get a woman and he’s making the choice to want you now.

As a society we give people way too much grief for not living a cookie cutter life. We ask them to be honest, to just tell the truth and when they do we crucify them. Some people just like sex, they just like sex with different people and if they’re honest with you, you have the decision not to date them. But when they finish, when they decide they’re tired of living like that. Why can’t they take those years of running around and incorporate that into a successful relationship?

The women that are “hoes” per say usually have the cleanest homes, they can cook and they’re talented in knowing how to seduce a man. They’re ambitious and aggressive and expect so much out of the men they’re with. When she takes that and focuses it on making one man better as oppose to trying to game a bunch of guys she’s going to be the perfect wife. And men… Do you know any real players, guys with real game? They turn women out with text and one date. Flowers, meals, flirting, chivalry. If he takes that game and infuses if with genuine love and security for one woman she has the man of her dreams.  There’s life after hoe life.

I know a lot of you reading will be hesitant to believe this because you’ve been played or lied to but you could be reading this lying next to a reformed hoe right now and never even know it.

Don’t believe everything you read or hear. Her vagina isn’t going to feel like a 10ft pool just because she got around. His body won’t have scratch marks and names of ladies he’s checked off a list. Kegals are real and phone numbers change.

Accept people for who they are and love them for who they are in the moment.

Tears of the Fall… Complete Edition

“Say what you have to say and leave! I’m tired, it’s raining and to be honest I really don’t have shit to say to you! You have four minutes.”

I felt like a stalker. She changed her number, she moved out our apartment and no one knew or would tell me where she was staying and she’d blocked me on everything from Facebook to Hotmail. The only place I knew to find her was her job. I wasn’t trying to make her office gossip so I didn’t wait in the lobby or walk up to her floor. I just drove the parking garage until I saw her car and waited.

When things are going good, when she’s calling seconds after she’s left the house just to say she loves me. When our text vary from explicit to romantic to silly, when all my friends compare our relationship to theirs. When things were like that I could never have seen this coming. Seeing her, standing in front of me, her arms crossed. Cell phone in one hand, keys in the other, the hatred in her eyes.

A month ago I would have killed any man that made her feel that way.

But today I was the man that was at the center of her resentment, her wrath.

“Can we just go somewhere and have a drink? Talk.”

“If I was in hell and there were two glasses of water I still wouldn’t have a drink with your bitch ass. Now you have three and a half minutes! Say what the fuck you need to say and leave me alone. Please! Please!”

“You don’t have to fucking talk to me like this!” I slapped the car next to me and stepped towards her. She flinched but didn’t back away.

“I wish you would put your hands on me. I wish you would… You don’t have the right to touch me again! I hate you! Stupid! I hate you! You know what, your five minutes are up!” She turned to get in her car!

I grabbed her arm!

She slapped me!

I grabbed her other arm, she pushed me off and slapped me again! I pushed her to the opening of the parking garage. The rain was falling on us both, I could feel her fighting me, struggling to get lose but I needed her to hear me!

“Was what I did so wrong?! It was before we met, before I knew you! All the guys that fucked over you! The family that used you! I never hurt you! I never gave you a reason not to trust me, not to give me the benefit of the doubt! So how the hell could you just give up on me?! I deserve that shit!?”

“This isn’t about deserve!!! Fuck everyone else! Those other guys may have been full of shit but I knew they were! My family may get on my nerves but they’re blood! You let me believe that you were perfect! I gave more of myself to you than I thought was capable… And you were lying to me the entire time. No one is, was or will ever be capable of hurting me the way you did. No one. You broke me… You may as well push me over the edge.”

I let her go and turned around. She started hitting me on the back, trying to scratch me with her keys! I just walked away, ignoring her blows…

“WALK AWAY! WALK AWAY BITCH! YOU LIAR! YOU’RE A LIAR! JUST PUSH ME! PUSH ME OVER THE EDGE! YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I CHANGED MY NUMBERS AND MOVED AND ERASED YOU! BECAUSE TRYING TO FORGET YOUR BITCH ASS EXSISTED IS BETTER THAN HAVING TO DEAL WITH SEEING YOU! KNOWING I HATE YOU AND LOVE YOU AT THE SAME DAMN TIME!”

I turned around and picked her up, pushed her against the column! Her teeth sank into my lips! I could taste the blood, my hand pushed up her skirt!

The column blocked us from behind, the car blocked people from seeing us and the elements provided the backdrop!

“Make me forget I hate you! Make me forget!”

Her tears made me hard!

Her tears broke my heart!

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Our faces were so close, our lips just millimeters apart. I could feel the wetness from her tears on my face, I could feel the wetness from between her thighs on my fingertips.

“I’ve been with other men, since you broke my heart I’ve been with other men. Do you still want me? Do you still want to be inside of me?!”

Her hands were gripping my face, forcing me to look at her. I couldn’t look at her.

I couldn’t hear this.

“Look at me! Look at me! I hate you! I… Hate… You.” She kissed me, her tongue deep in my mouth. Her hands in my hair, her fingernails digging in my neck.

“Can you taste them?! Can you taste them?! Because I can taste her! I can taste her now. There were three or four of them inside of me, on me, just so I could forget about you! Just so I could hurt you! I knew you’d find me! I knew you wouldn’t let me go. And now that you’re here, now that you’re holding me, trying to make me forget about her! You’ll have to live with the same nightmares I live with! I fucked them in our bed, on your pillow, I started to call you so that you could hear! You still miss me baby? You still want me baby? Or do you hate me like I hate you now?!

“FUUUUUCK! FUUUCK! STOP IT! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

Grabbing her neck and turning her around, her hands braced against the column in the crowded parking garage. I pushed up her skirt even further, ripped off her panties. I tugged at my belt, my zipper.

She turned around and slapped me!

“If you want this! If this is what you need! Look at me! Look at me and see those men in my eyes! They were bigger than you! Better than you! I did things with them I’d never do with you!”

“Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth!”

I put my hand over her mouth, she bit me! Slapped me again! I grabbed her face and kissed her! I saw their faces…

I saw their faces….

The fight left me, she fell to the ground, her hands in her head. Sobbing like she just got the most devastating news of her life. I hit the car! I hit the car again! And again! And again!

I screamed! I couldn’t hold the pain in, I couldn’t imagine life without her but seeing her on the ground crying, seeing my own reflection in the window of the car I knew things could never be like they once were.

“It’s not what you think! Stop saying that! Stop lying to me! There was no one else, you haven’t been with anyone else!