THIS IS BAD, REAL BAD. MICHAEL JACKSON

REST IN PEACE. WORDS CAN NOT EXPRESS WHAT HE WAS TO MUSIC, TO GENERATIONS OR TO ME. HIS LEGACY LIVES ON THROUGH EVERYONE.

MONOGAMY IS THE MOST COMMON FORM OF TORTURE.

Torture by definition is: The infliction of physical and or emotional punishment.

Okay so for starters, I know that it’s pretty fucked up to say that monogamy is torturous because it is after all the very foundation that a “good” relationship is supposed to be built on; right after blind trust and honesty and all of that other idealistic shit, right?
Well I was riding around the city the other night with my girls, just eating red Gummi Bears, laughing at our pitiful attempts to re-tell the jokes we’d just heard at a comedy show at Caroline’s Comedy Club and you know, just enjoying the fuckery of a Saturday night…when eventually the topic of men came up, followed by sex and then relationships… All of my girls, like most people (women in general) seem to agree that monogamy is the greatest thing on the planet!
I feel differently. And I’ll tell you why… It’s because I’m a realist. I know and accept that fact that being in a relationship/ having a steady boyfriend or girlfriend does not negate your attraction to others. Sure, when you’re smitten with a certain someone your carnal desires for all others may be numb for a bit, but never paralyzed. We’re all human. A curious species who are both visually and emotionally enticed, by nature. No “one thing” completely satisfies us in any aspect, so why should the person we commit to be the exception? I think that the institution of monogamy is a rather unnatural ritual that we’ve been socially and traditionally coerced into. I mean think about it, you go all your life being attracted to, dating and fucking who you want…You meet someone who makes you happy. They’re a great friend and lover. You fall in love and yada yada yada… Then you’re hit with the “M” word. Monogamy. “We’re together, so you can only spend your time with me, spend your money on me, your smiles are for me, I’m your soul mate, so your soul is mine, you love me so your heart is mine, you can only flirt with me, spend long hours on the phone with me, sacrifice for me and most importantly…you can only have sex with me.”
All of those new stipulations represent both emotional and physical restriction; AKA punishment. Monogamy is pretty much a self imposed sentence that is served for the duration of your time with a significant other. It’s a sugarcoated deprivation, propagated by love.

Taking things, people or activities that you enjoy away from yourself takes much getting used to and even after you’re ‘used to it’ , seeing what you’ve weaned yourself off of will sometimes inflict a longing so profuse that it's painful. Some break under the pressure and they cheat or part ways from their significant other. What can I say? It happens; I don’t judge... But I will say that as much shit as I talk, I know that a little bit of “pain” is good for you. I’m paradoxically a glutton for punishment; four years and counting. Currently, yet not always utterly, happily doing my bid.

Dirty Little Secret (the mistress who wants more)

I am his dirty little secret. As for every sex session, I keep it hidden back in the black corners of my mind.
Every time we talk it's well past late; whispering the rendezvous point for our next dirty date.
I wait for his lady to leave, let the phone ring once, then hang up; we hook up, go down, come up for air, I fix my hair and pretend not to care that he's not mine and in his world I do not exist.
I pretend that each secret kiss inches me closer to the granting of the wistful wish that I was more to him than just a piece of ass; more than the meek student in the back of his class with her hand raised toward outer space, silently pleading to replace the woman seen with him in public.
I long to be his lady; to spend more than sweaty hours between sheets with him.
To begin a conversation that has nothing to do with my thighs parting or me starting to cum.
When it's over I say to myself that I'm done.
I'll no longer be the one to give pieces of myself, to be an invisible notch on his belt; because I deserve more.
I am too wonderful to be muffled behind a closed door. Too great to pour myself until empty and leave no trace of me for true love to find.
But I remain blind to reason. Thoughts are merely unwritten treason, because I ignore my advice; scratch it away like hair lice.
I keep giving him coochie coupons that are valid in the wee hours of the night, because of the naive hope that one of them might get him to catch feelings, and we might become one instead of two; and I'd no longer do dirty deeds to appease dirty needs; you see the skeleton we've constructed is in my closet and I don't want to keep it.
I don't want to be his dirty little secret.

The Other Woman's thoughts (the mistress who doesn't give a damn)

If she be comin then I be leavin, cause I don't be needin no problems.
See I'm the other woman and I know my place.
I don't call him if I know she home. Don't get mad after we have sex and he leave me alone.
I have one objective; to give him pleasure. To make him sweat, to make his toes curl. To let him do all of the things to me that his girl is too conservative to do.
If she be near, then I be damn near invisible and he be miserable in that missionary position that seems to be a given whenever she give it up.
It's just his luck that he found a freak like me. A fine ass bi-sexual, who's impractical when it comes to sex.
I know the Kama Sutra like the back of my hand or like a poem I wrote.
I'm a deep throat, so I can take all of him in at once; far enough so that his balls are touchin my chin, so that if you looked you wouldn't know where he end and I begin.
If she mean everything to him then nothing matters to me; with the exception of how many times I can make him cum during one of our secret sex sessions.
As far as confessions go, none will ever pour from me; cause personally I feel like they're overrated. And if I let one loose then I won't be compensated with his sex any longer. It seems as if the stronger he says his love is for her, the harder he fucks me, so either way it goes, it benefits me.
I know my lack of discretion is enough enough to make you sick, but I fuck enough to make me orgasmicly rich.
None of those stereotypical standards will ever stick; cause yeah I'm givin up good pussy, but not without gettin good dick.
No feelings.
No love.
Emotions and a trick don't mix.
He be just another faceless dick.

Follow Me.

Twitter.com/Treasure_Boxx

I'd appreciate it...Followers keep me from "tweetin' to myself" lol

Love's Philosophy.

This is one of my favorite poems...was introduced to it my sophmore yr in college...(Thanks professor Clark)...Anyway, It ran accross my mind so I decided to post it for anyone who cares to read it...I'm feelin it today; enjoy!

Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle -
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea -
What are all these kissings worth If thou kiss not me?

Some Dick

Okay so you look at me and you see a respectable, pretty young lady. Prim and proper with my legs crossed; I don’t even stand out much. I could be lost in a crowd. All the while I want to scream out loud that “I JUST WANT SOME DICK!” Some Mandingo warrior, king ding-a-ling, that’ll make me scream out in ecstasy “FUCK ME HARDER!” I harbor this feeling more than California residents harbor Mexican immigrants. I want a man to get all up in it, a feeling that no amount of masturbation or dirty conversation can. I am so tired of using my hand. It doesn’t hit that spot. It’s not sufficient and it isn’t thoroughly satisfying. I want some dick that’ll have me crying from pleasure and a little bit of pain because I like that shit. I want some dick so bad I can taste it. And I’m not selfish, so I would taste it; but only if I could be certain that my skills wouldn’t be wasted on a two minute nigga’. Too many niggas say what they gon’ do, but when the panties come down they don’t come through. They just come quick; and then they have that stupid look on their face and I’m stuck with this space between my thighs throbbing, pulsating, while passion is fading and his dick is deflating from prematurely ejaculating. I want some dick. Some dick that’ll fill me to capacity and have me reaching for shit that ain’t even there. Some dick so good I’ll be begging a nigga to pull my hair, even though I just got it done. I want some dick that’ll put me to sleep before I get a chance to wrap my shit so it’ll look good in the morning. I want some dick that’ll have me cooking eggs, biscuits and grits in the morning. Some dick that’ll have me feeling like I been out whoring; even though I haven’t ‘cause I don’t get down like that, but is it so wrong to want some dick that I can feel in my heart when he hittin it from the back? And no, not for real, like in the physical sense; cause that would hurt and probably cause some internal bleeding; but what I mean is that sometimes I be needing some dick that makes me want to moan out “I love you” instead of “That was coo’, thanks for coming through; but don’t call me. I’ll text you.” I want some dick and I want it to be attached to a man who can kiss me like the elixir for life is in my tongue. I want some dick that’ll make me cum and not just get me wet; because yes, there is a difference! Only men out there who’ve hit it right can decipher the feelin’. Only they can tell when I’m not fakin’; when my right leg is reeeeeaaalllly shakin’. Incoherent words and moist moans melt from my mouth to his. I want some dick and don’t trip, I’m into the sensual love making and all that romantic foreplay shit; but I’m also a fan of fucking and freaking with my feet up in the air. And sometimes…well sometimes I just want to be licked like a stamp. Laid on my back and placed on a pedestal of pleasure so high that no mathematical tool can measure. I want some dick, and I don’t think I should have to feel bad about it; because good dick eases the mind. Good dick makes up for lost time. Good dick is the reason these hips know how to slow wind and grind till I get mine. I want some dick from a man who has rhythm. I want more than the back and forth motion cause that just doesn’t get it. I want to feel it in my thoughts when I’m daydreaming at work or in class. I want some dick that’ll fatten my ass, put a pep in my step and a switch in my stride. I want some dick that makes me feel like I died, went to heaven and then came back just to ride it again! I want some dick that’ll make me curse out my closest friend, like “Bitch you’re just jealous cause I’m gettin it in!” I want some dick that’s been tested for H.I.V., herpes, gonorrhea, warts and syphilis, cause I need some dick that won’t leave me burning or feeling sick and shit, ‘cause I’m yearning but I have my limit. All I want is some dick. No attachments or emotional hang up; just a sexual hook up that’ll give my skin that radiant “I just got some” glow. I want some dick with no stipulations or trials and tribulations. I want some dick so good that my pussy says “Congratulations! You have reached multiple orgasm” I want some dick that’ll make me spasm and wonder whether I’m cumming or having a seizure; some dick I can get when I’m busy or on my leisure. I want some available dick; the new and improved, scarcely yet professionally used, thick, juicy, put it on me papi tool, tantric dick; and I want it now.

All Black Affair

Ummm Yeah...don't really have much to say about this... Just wanted to show off the dress. Holla!

Friends. How many of us have them...Friends. Ones you can depend on...

I love my friends; even with all the random ass drama they come with...For every petty argument that we've ever had, we share at least 20 laughs and hugs and comforting words in times of need and that's priceless...These women are more than friends. The emotional and social battle scars endured have made them my sisters now. ...Anyway ignore that random ass white guy in the picture. lol He just approached us and asked if he could take a picture with us...Believe it or not that happens quite often, so we didn't mind. lol

She Got It From Her Mama

Hung out with and had lunch with my mom...I miss her already... Hopefully I can get out to Cali again in December. It would be nice to at least spend Christmas with her and my big head brothers.

So Proud Of You...

This post is just a short one to mention how proud I am of my friend Nick Young...

Someone asked me about him yesterday. They wanted to know what Nick was like in high school; and it made me smile to be able to honestly say that he was and still is a very fun and easygoing guy....I had to admit that like most teenage boys he was also extremely immature and that was annoying at times. LOL. But he was just one of those people that made going to school fun.

Most people now know him as a member of the Washington Wizards. I am sooooo super duper proud of him for making it to the NBA; that was his dream and he worked hard to get there. There were times when his goal seemed unattainable due to academic circumstances and other personal issues he was struggling with off the court/ outside of school, but he never gave up on himself or let it alter his spirits. That is commendable....I am proud that Nick stayed humble, never forgets where he came from and I am elated to see him growing and maturing as a player. He has alot to offer the league and his talents will impress fans; just give him time...he's dope! ( LOL, yes I am bringin' back that old school slang)

YES WE DID!

I am so overwhelmed at the outcome of the election that I keep crying tears of joy.
I never thought that I would see the day that a strong, intelligent, compassionate Black man would be the president of the United States. I don't even have the words to fully express my emotions. I am so proud and I believe in democracy again. Obama said "Yes we can." ...Together WE DID!

We don't need 40 acres and a mule when we have 50 states and the white house.

Are you serious!?

After the incident in the nail salon in Brooklyn on Friday, I have concluded that this is the sign that should be blown up and posted on the window and main entrance of the salon..."See what had happened was" lol, I was waiting for my turn to get my eyebrows done. The place was pretty quiet; until some guy walks in. The guy was young. Appeared to be in his early to late 20's. He was well dressed..Okay not "well dressed"; let me rephrase... he had on the usual 'hood attire'. Timberland boots, overpriced jeans and a graphic hoodie with random, loud designs and words on it. I think it was Christian Audigier...Anyway so the guy comes in and I noticed that he had a box in his hand. I figured he was just selling something, like most random men who drop in the salon during business hours are. They either try to sell you bootleg DVD's and CD's or perfume. None of which were items that I was interested in purchasing, so I glanced at him for about 3 seconds before I proceeded to aimlessly flip through the four month old issue of Vogue magazine that was in my lap....But this guy was not selling anything. the box in his hand was empty. He was just begging! and do you know what he said?!...he was like: "Can anybody help me out with a dollar or some change; I'm trying to get a bag of weed."

*sigh* This guy was dead ass serious!

There is just so much that I could say about this incident, but you know what...It was really just another day, battling the slings and arrows of outrageous mothafuckas in Brooklyn.

*SMH*

Happy Almost Halloween

I love Halloween...the whole process of picking a costume and stocking up on candy to pass out to the little freeloadin' kids is great....I think you're never too old to enjoy the festivities...So in honor of my excitement about the upcoming day, I've posted a pic of me in one of my fave costumes... CLEOPATRA!

Thoughts on an excerpt...

As Trish answered, I found myself discreetly taking in her impressive features. She stood about five foot eight; her flawless skin was the same color as rich cocoa beans and so smooth that it looked more like a sheet of dark brown silk poured over flesh than it did mere skin. Her deep, dark eyes were surrounded by lashes so long that they could have been stolen from mascara commercial. Her eyebrows were thin in shape, arched to perfection by some Korean who’d mastered the craft. Trish obviously had a weave, but it too was sheer perfection; the long, black strands floated down her back and stopped a few inches before her curvy waistline, making her look like a sun kissed Egyptian queen. After silently concluding that she was a gorgeous woman, I noted that I was still better looking than Trish in some ways. Why we women do this, I will never fully understand; we compare ourselves, constantly judge one another and then we develop insecurities that fuel the process of tearing each other down. I was wondering if men do the same thing...

Okay so that was an excerpt from a novel...While the storyline and characters are ficticious, the soul of the issues in the book are all too real... I couldn't help but to spend a little additional time thinking about the part of the excerpt that I highlighted in red though... I strongly believe that women tend to do that more than men. If you are a woman reading this, what do you think? If you are a man, do you or other men that you know do this? What do do you think about women doing that?

Procession Line Pimpin'.

Okay so I was out jogging the other day, but I got tired after a little over a half hour or so into it and therefore decided to just walk through the rest of my little workout until I caught my breath…So I’m walkin’ and I hear a car horn blowing. At first I didn’t look because I figured that as usual it was probably just some guy trying to holla’ at me…The culprit was persistent though; kept honking. So I glance over, prepared to just roll my eyes and then wave the guy off because I am not drive through pussy! Ain’t nothin’ worse than a guy trying to get at you from the window of his car, like you’re a damn combo meal at a fast food joint… So anyway when I turned to face the street, I was appalled to see that the guy who was desperately trying to get my attention was driving a hearse; leading a funeral procession!
That is so disrespectful on so many levels. Granted the deceased couldn’t see or hear this man trying to make a love connection on his way to the grave site, but I’m sure the family could… *Sigh* hopefully they were too grief-stricken to realize that the driver was procession line pimpin’.

The PAIN...The HORROR...The HUMANITY!!!

Got my wisdom tooth pulled today...the one on the bottom...far left side of jaw.

OUCH!!!!!!!!!!

Chivalry is DEAD!

Found out today that someone shot Chivalry with a desert eagle, slit his throat and then left him drowning in a puddle of his own blood...
Sure I've brushed off many subtle clues as to his death in the past...You know, a "failed hold the door for a lady" here; and a "take my seat on the crowded subway,obviously old as dirt woman" there, but I shook those things off. I thought maybe Chivalry was taking a sick day; but he certainly couldn't be dead.
WRONG!!! He is as dead as Ma$e's rap career. Let me tell you how it became apparent to me...
Today I saw a man shove a pregnant woman so hard that she stumbled; just so that he could get inside of the doors to the Chase bank first... As I was helping the woman get her balance, the same man managed to step on my foot, and did not say "sorry" or anything on his mad dash to the teller...Upon finding out that the window he was headed toward was closed, the man then proceeded to hurry past and get in front of an elderly man using a walker. The old guy was slowly but surely making his way to the next available window, but he never stood a chance.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Chivalry is dead.

UPDATE (What Should I do?)

So I caved. I told my friend about my brother...Guess what happened? This trick told me that I was lying and she thinks that I'm just jealous. She said that I had been "hating" on her hooking up with my brother before he even came to visit. (mind you she used a number of curse words and invectives while saying this to me) Can you imagine the look on my face when she was saying this? I ended up having to laugh; because that was all I could do to keep from slapping her pregnant ass! And I'm not a violent person. That just isn't me...Wasn't raised like that...Fighting is primitive and to my credit, I have never been in a physical altercation in all my days on this Earth and I don't plan to ever be...Anyway; after cursing me out, she told me that she was going to tell my brother the "joyous" news and that there was nothing that I could do about it. I said "I didn't tell you all of that in hopes that you would refrain from telling him, you little Jezebel! I told you so that you could brace yourself for his reaction, which I assure you will be derived from the things you don't know about his actual life!"
She wasn't trying to hear me though. It is always so funny to me when I try to warn these broads about my brother and they don't believe me because they think that I'm suffering from sort form of sibling rivalry. worse is when they think I'm telling them because I'm jealous of the fornication infested facade that they have going with him. To that I say "Oh fuckin' Please!" I could expostulate further but it's not worth it...Anyway I have washed my hands of the situation...Two tears in a bucket, fuck it, fuck her and four people who look like her!

I'm Not Hungry Right Now.

You are food for my soul; but I’m not hungry right now.
My heart is full on your conversation and kisses.
Tired of your taste lingering on my tongue, tickling my sense.
It’s made me thirsty and you can’t quench this.
I’m craving a new, wet drink to wash you down with.
Today I won’t be coming back for seconds; even though your food is always hot.
I’ve got a hankering for a tall drink of water that will swim down my throat, splash in my stomach then course through my veins.
After while hunger pains may make me dizzy ‘cause you won’t be in me; but that’s okay because I want to miss you.
Want my mouth to water when I see or smell you. Don’t you miss the succulence of the first bite? The pleasure derived from pressure when I sink my teeth into you?
I used to swallow you; but now I just push you around on my plate.
Wrap you up. Once fresh, now cold leftovers.
I’m not hungry right now; but this doesn’t mean that I’ll never eat again.
Doesn’t mean that I’ll never take you into my mouth again or let you feel my taste buds on your texture.
You’ll always be my favorite because you’re so filling; but that’s what’s got me feeling full.
Lost my appetite.
Don’t want a bite or a morsel of you.
For now I’ve finished you.
Insatiable sweet tooth is ready for dessert.
Some sticky, sugary syrup that I can suck off my fingertips.
It’s got to be savory to get in me and make me forget that you are the first thing on my lips; going straight to my hips and thighs. Morning, noon and night, in proper portions all the time.
My personal I HOP; 24 hours, no wait in line.
Oh hell, maybe I’ll just eat you and drink him at the same time.