Master P said, "Be Bout it - Bout it" .. So, I am? Are you?

Twisting & turning
Your feelings are burning
You're breaking the girl
She meant you no harm
Think you're so clever
But now you must sever
You're breaking the girl
He loves no one else

It's hard to address certain aspects of yourself in general, whether it be out loud, or whether you say it to yourself every evening before you go to sleep and every morning when you wake up to see a new day. Having always been a rather outspoken, free spirit kind of person It is hard for me to admit out loud that i allowed another person to control me, scare me and manipulate me into exile for almost one whole year of my life. It is hard to admit that i willingly allowed someone to break me down, drain me mentally and physically on a daily basis. 

No one had ever questioned me or made me feel bad for having an agenda, interest's or certain belief's until him. There were times i wanted to create an anonymous blog about my situation and hopefully inspire other women or other individuals in general.

I have been through my share of traumatic experiences in New York City, it's almost scary how numb i have become, it's hard to get a good rise out of me these days. I have been mugged twice, I have had my apartment broken into once and just this past Friday, i caught a man trying to jiggle his way into my room through my semi cracked window.

I felt no feelings of hesitation what so ever, I keep a knife, oven cleaner and mace next to my bed. I'm a small person living in a big city. I immediately was able to jump up, pull my curtain away and look this jerk off right in the eye and i asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing, oven cleaner in hand.

Oven cleaner ... people don't come back from that.

This man almost looked confused as to why i wasn't screaming and crying verses me asking him what the fuck was up. He stepped back from my window. I watched him turn right, so i made my way to the entrance of my loft to see that he was really fucking off.

Our eyes met again in the entrance. He told me that he needed to get inside the building because he lives across the hall, I told him he was full of shit because i know everyone that lives across the hall. Then he switched up his story. He then asked me if he could come in and just use my phone and that he would give me his driver license in exchange. I had to really laugh, I really did, I laughed. 

I said, "what good will your driver license do for me when I'm dead and your wearing my skin?" 

I was more disgusted by the lack of effort made on his part to break into my home and his choice of words when  given a second chance to try and get in my home verbally, then i was by the actual situation.

Fuck, if you want to be a criminal, do it .. but be about it bout it. It is almost like no one actually ever does what they set out to do anymore. There is no real effort put forth toward anything anymore. No proper game plan. Fuck a plan B or C, No one ever really has Plan A figured out. If you are going to  consciously accept and justify robbing and or harming another human being, be about it bout it. 

I know when my boy Master P said be about it bout it, i listened.

I'm listening Master P.

The second time i got mugged was 3 years ago at Port Authority on a Friday Night around 2am, not a smart move made on my part by being around 9th avenue in midtown during criminal activity as hell hours of the evening. 

Nonetheless,

I was actually mugged by a group of 5 kids, they didn't look a day over 17. It was totally like a gang ignition or something, but really? It took five of you to rob a little 5'2 white chick? I had to ask them, why such reinforcement was needed. I also said "your gang must suck" and i then asked if i could at least have my fucking apartment keys, one of them threw them at me while fleeing from the incident. It was the least they could do after performing such a sham operation.

Going off on a tangent, as usual.

Coincidentally...

--> As I was leaving the local internet café just about an hour ago, (this internet café happens to be the particular internet café in which I do the majority of the writing for this ridiculous blog. Three loud drunk men come in and sit at the counter (beers are also served at this particular internet café), so I'm guessing that was their main intention of coming in.
In a five minute span of time, the following subjects were touched upon amongst these “gents”


(1). One of the gentlemen recalls the last time he had been to this internet café…
& I Quote:
“I was so fuckin hammaaaared the last time I was here, I pissed on my wife as we was leaving out the door”

(2). The second gentleman had some good news to tell the other gentleman, 1. That he didn’t have herpes 2. He didn’t really care either way, because “its not like someone could pin me down as the one who did it to you” and also “fuck a slut if she down with a guy she don’t know like that”
All of a sudden one of the employees approached the gentleman and said “this conversation being had this loud, is not good for business”
All three of the gentleman took a look around, they noticed that I was what they were referring to as “other business” because I was the only other human there.

Then,
(3).. The third gentleman yells to me, “oow ya sorry, that’s life ya know”. So I replied, “wasn’t paying attention at all, not offended what so ever”. This got him upset of course so he asked me what kind of sandwich I was having and I said “A roast beef sandwich” & of course …. He responds, “how appropriate” and of course, being fed up as it is already I had this to say:

"OHHH GOOOOD ONE, BOOOOO ..ROAST BEEF VAGINA CONNECTION, REAL ORIGINAL.. I’M TOTALLY CREEPED OUT, YOU REALLY GOT ME ON THAT ONE YOU BAD DIRTY OLD MAN, PLEASE .. ALL THREE OF YOU ARE BASIC, BASIC LOCALS WITH STANDARD, UNORIGINAL SOCIAL FLAWS. NOT IMPRESSED, MAYBE SLIGHTLY DISSAPOINTED."

So, they left.

As I was before and still am currently even prior to those three idiots five minute time slot in my evening, still…. NOT IMPRESSED.
You want to be a dirty old man, well have more offensive comments, go into just a tiny bit more depth, details, anything. Make a fucking hand gesture at least to go along with it, that’s all you go? You look about 60, I assume you have been a giant arrogant dillhole for a good portion of your time on this earth so far, BE CREATIVE.


I sometimes don't know whether or not my tough, callused exterior and high tolerance for creepy, unusual behavior is a good or bad thing.

In other words, "Sweet, I'm finally completely dead on the inside" or "Maybe New York City has made me a tougher person, maybe there is a reason why i have been faced with such trials and tribulations... maybe it's some sort of fucked up boot camp for people that eventually make the cut."

I can only think positively about my struggles at this point, in general. I have truly fell in love with inconvenience.
I know this sounds crazy, but i really mean it.
If you aren't faced with such inconveniences or set backs, how will you ever learn to enjoy and appreciate the simple things in life?

Like Hot Water, The ability to boil water on a stove & finding a person that will go down on you at least three mornings a week before work.

You must first loose all of those things in order to understand how amazing the little things are in life that we take for granite everyday..

like, Freedom. (to an extent)

Getting back to the point, gradually...


I am as of May 16, 2013 finally "technically free" from one of the most horrifying, emotionally and physically debilitating situations i have ever not had the pleasure of taking part in. Not only did i not have the pleasure, i didn't have a choice either.

I was in a relationship that was more like jail.
I got lost.
I no longer had interest's,hobbies, i no longer enjoyed the things i had once enjoyed. All i was ever concerned with was making it through the day without upsetting him or having him threaten to get me fired from my job, sabotage my relationships with friends or reveal private information to my parents that he found via invading all my privacy. If I didn't answer his calls, he would start calling my job excessively.
Emails by the dozen.
Long, crazy text messages.
I was so afraid at work to not answer his texts, which i also had an incredibly up my ass, micro manager boss and even looking at my phone gave me anxiety .. "Damned if i did.. Damned if i didn't"

I was working 7 days a week, exhausted.
Barely making ends meet, a zombie walking through life, hardly sleeping.
Always in a daze, incoherent ..detached.

I woke up everyday knowing that I got myself stuck in a very bad situation and it was going to take some seriously clever planning to get my way out of it. For a person who had never once gave a shit about what other's had to say, an individual an extrovert... was now being dragged by the ankles daily by means of threats, lack of sleep and constant questioning.. I was 25 years old, explaining three times why i wanted to go to the gym, the deli or even tanning.
Wanting to just go about life freely how i once had, was macerating.

I took my life for granite.
I took my friends, family, music and everything that made me, ME for granite.

I complained alot about my life before him, i was materialistic, i never said please or thank you, i was always wanting more.
It took someone robbing me of my life to make me realize how much i really LOVED my life, ME ...

That's why i love the movie "It's a wonderful life" so much.

I was George Bailey, though i had always loved with all my heart and genuinely cared about other humans, which is almost debilitating .... I still took life for granite.

After completely ending things with him in February and having him book his plane ticket to a place far enough away to ease my mind, i slowly began to get my life back, i started to write again, i started to laugh again, get in touch with old friends..see my parents again...

But, had i never had my life dangled in front of me daily, I may have never started to love and appreciate each day. Regardless of the set backs.

After filing a court order of protection and not being able to serve him the papers to finalize it because he kept moving, he showed up to my apartment on Thursday of last week, and i had a binder with plastic inserts all ready for the cops and proof of my struggle... court papers, the password to my laptop, email accounts and the journal i kept during the whole experience, because i didn't know if i would be dead or alive when he finally showed up.

which, i knew he would and i was ready.

My life means something to me, I mean something to me and unfortunately it took this type of situation to reveal all of this to me.

I wanted my life back.
so i had no other choice but to be "bout it bout it"
down to a science.

Like Shaw Shank Redemption, slowly but surely, cleverly calculating every move ... escaping through shit, just to be free.
Free to live my life.


I will always have to watch my back, i will always feel a burn in my chest when the door opens at my apartment. I will always be slightly guarded.

Because, I love life too much.

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