Writes..."What I Want...In 36 Bars"

"tired of fuckin' around on some other shit…
sick of the same b.s. where the things that i get…
i've deemed just as crappy as the things that i shit…
dropping kids at the pool, er, a bathroom toilet…
i've already referenced shit three times; aww, fuck it…
my mood is shitty; thus, words an asshole would spit…
if it dumped on paper; an explosion of shit…
sprayed on a page, it's lasting; so one not forget…
my heart scripted in brown's nasty, so let me quit…
this thought's on what i want; i'm off the point of it…
a guide on what i need to do for getting it…
like i said before, i've been on some other shit…

let me start with the "cliff notes" version of my side…
i feel i must vent, so through writing i'll confide…
i've never asked for shit and i've not been denied…
'cause i've tended to get what i've sought when i've tried…
but the thing i wanted the most i never tried…
the release of my seed when her legs were spread wide…
a mixture of the two of us growing inside…
see, i want kids but i've found tunes already tied…
thus, my only wish for this life has been denied…
me as a father, a couple kids at my side… 
ones that i've fathered; lacking's proves i'm justified…
having no offspring reason enough to decide…

i can no longer let those chicks slide anymore…

ones with kids, still deciding if they want any more…
"fixed" 'til i've broken them at their maternal core…
and they realize 'cause of me they want to have more…
through mine she'd birth a fifth, she's already got four…
all girls: a set of twins ten, one seven, one four…
even if her words ring true, my heart does implore…
for me to move on 'cause i've heard that shit before…
why take a chance on a chick who's already bore…
more fruit than the local corner grocery store…
thirty-three means i can't compromise anymore…
thirty-three means i can't waste my time anymore…"

Writes..."The Pursuit Of Happ-"B"-ness"

"...life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness..." - thomas jefferson

"those are our unalienable rights, right?

so my most recent ex texts me asking if i'm happier now that we're no longer together. i guess that's a fair question; i mean it's definitely one i can easily answer. "no, not really", i tell her; responding as fast as it takes me to type out the words. but then my text goes unanswered. i don't know what she was expecting me to say; perhaps that i found our breakup to be a cause of great celebration for me or that i derived some sort of pleasure in ending our relationship. it wasn't…and i didn't…but my feelings on there no longer being an "us" don't matter because the truth is neither sentiment is particularly relevant towards my response. she asked if i am happier now and i answered honestly: i'm not happy at all, haven't been in a long time and while we were together she hadn't changed that…but i hadn't really expected her to.

not that any of that was her fault; my point is i used to believe differently: that i would meet a woman who would change my outlook on life or at least make me want to fake it better. and maybe, just maybe, i don't know, turn my perpetual frown upside down. but i've learned through living that one's happiness comes from within. so whether or not i end up happy will be due to my own actions. i guess what i'm saying is the determination of my "happiness" will come from me and not from other people. 

my "unhappiness", however, remains a different story."

Writes..."An Od"E""

“it’s in the dark of night, whilst laying in my bed,

the most insightful notions swirl ‘round in my head…

profound; i reflect at times i should be asleep,

i’ve found in thinking of her, thoughts are always deep…

and i'll admit to thinking about her a lot;

perhaps more than i should, considering she’s not…

mine, yet i’d never view her as a possession,

‘though i wish she were is my averse confession…

i'm hesitant to profess the feelings i own…

they remain hidden from her; a secret unknown…

thus i'm forced to contemplate while under cover;

how she’ll know my heart without knowing i love her?

'cept she knows, just views my words in another sense…

merely a phrase from a friend, she sees no difference…

my "i love you" isn’t one really meaning love,

at least not from the one i have loving thoughts of…

am i wrong to believe what i say should mean more,

especially when she’s heard “i love you” before?

from those who whispered it sweetly into her ears;

and as both proved empty, they’d reduced her to tears…

but never mine, i understand before i speak,

when they come from me, they’re three words truly unique…

‘though the “more” may be more difficult to explain,

it means when others fade away, that we'll still remain…

having been a constant since the day we first met,

i’ll always be by her side so she not forget;

that even when she can’t see it, in someone’s eyes,

she’s more beautiful than even she does realize…

i’ve observed the striking face and the gorgeous smile;

seen she’s flawless with her clothes, her make-up, her hairstyle…

and i appreciate every part as a whole,

but find her best feature to be her caring soul…

sometimes i wonder exactly how she sees me…

just as her friend? well, our friendship happens to be,

a most valuable gift to be able to claim…

ask her and i’m sure that she will tell you the same…

yet we're destined for more, at least i’ve always felt,

even if the chances of an “us” have seemed svelte…

but that idea concealed means i'm not understood;

so, like i said, i think ‘bout her more than i should…

times when i imagine she’s prone under a sheet…

dead to the world, for two or three hours complete…

and dreaming lovely dreams of the most wondrous kind;

ones that prove the day's stresses have been left behind…

like the one where she's wearing a white dress that flows,   

her hands rest on her arms as the wind gently blows…

brown eyes; a witness to the most amazing view:

a beach of white sand leading to the ocean blue…

and maybe, just maybe, she’s placed me in a scene…

where we, together, share a moment that’s serene;

peaceful; calm; a setting we deem intimate bliss…

concluding nothing before's been better than this…

no one, with whom she or i had spent any time,

had produced an ambience for us as sublime…

in my vision, ardor’s finally by my side;

proof that when true love is real, it won’t be denied…

but i know that's just wishful thinking on my part…

the results of evicting what lives in one's heart…

this ode penned is emotion settled on a page;

and all sentiment: payment of a lover’s wage…

these are the thoughts in a moonlit room i conceive;

praying when morning comes what she reads she'll believe… 

i hope that i won't discover my words betray,

a man who knows love through what his mouth wouldn't say…”

Presents..."From This Moment On" by Shania Twain

"i have a long history with this song; i'll just state that when i first heard it i recognized it as exactly what i would want to say to my bride at the altar."

"(i do swear that i'll always be there. i'd give anything
and everything and i will always care. through weakness
and strength, happiness and sorrow, for better, for worse,
i will love you with every beat of my heart.)

from this moment life has begun
from this moment you are the one
right beside you is where i belong
from this moment on

from this moment i have been blessed
i live only for your happiness
and for your love i'd give my last breath
from this moment on

i give my hand to you with all my heart
can't wait to live my life with you, can't wait to start
you and i will never be apart
my dreams came true because of you

from this moment as long as i live
i will love you, i promise you this
there is nothing i wouldn't give
from this moment on

you're the reason i believe in love
and you're the answer to my prayers from up above
all we need is just the two of us
my dreams came true because of you

from this moment as long as i live
i will love you, i promise you this
there is nothing i wouldn't give
from this moment
i will love you as long as i live
from this moment on"

Writes..."Frozen"

"an image of she and i cannot be erased,
yet i've tried to forget every intimate scene...
like times she begged hands of mine be gently placed...
on her neck, then her shoulders, then the space between...

her heaving chest held a heart once broken-hearted...
that required a delicate pass o'er each breast...
i sensed pain in her when my fingers had departed...
at least that's what the sounds she made did suggest...

so i ensured to keep my touch on her until…
the fear of a separation of us was done…
thus, a hand stayed behind her so she’s closer still,
though we'd stood so close, we'd almost been one…

as an picture of love, a still frozen in time,
a sight labeled as desire personified…
right now i close my eyes only to find that i’m…
unable to overlook tender feelings inside…”

Presents..."Juggernauts" by Slaughterhouse

"this is my song. i'd call it a new anthem or a cut on the soundtrack of my life but i won't. all i'll say is i can't stop listening to it. plus, for all those bulls fans in the 90's, you recognize the sample from jump. "6'6'' from north carolina...michael...you know the rest.""

"[verse 1: royce da 5'9"]
hey, we ain’t really gotta keep going through this
if anybody wanna rap circles 'round you, my nigga, we 'bout to do it
you about that bitch, dough, and that swag, that’s it
let me talk about us, we about that bitch, dough and that swag
we about that sitting on that ave
and because we sitting on that ave
we about that pistol in that bag
we about that fist fight, only after we grab a fist full of that cash
we about that get right, what you have perceived the least but not last
we are the sickest scribbling with that pen, that pencil and that pad
and y'all talking this and that, so what
my click can wrap my dough up
now picture that, i write the sloppiest verses down you seen
i hand it in for green
so i can buy all of my bitches bags with the stacks
and call the cash chicken scratch
slaughter baby we just getting warm
y'all ain't fucking nothing we can't fuck
y'all ain't driving nothing we can't drive
if we can't afford it we just take yours
see ya'll little niggas just misinformed
shady blew up, took the game, turn around
and ten years later he gave it to the

[hook x2: eminem]
juggernauts of this rap shit (7x)
like it or not

[verse 2: crooked i]
some of you niggas is bitches too, you rocking panties, huh
sit down when you pissing too, you niggas trannies, huh
what you stand for is beneath me, you understand me, huh
niggas get x'd like the professor and juggernauts running our family, huh
homie i was making checks before that martin margiela
and niggas was rocking avirex, now hot rappers date my ex-s
and i'm still rated x, stick my dick so far in a bitch's throat
it'll come out the other side and turn a blowjob into anal sex
ain’t no next, cause i got now until i decide to to bow, avow your style
it ain’t gonna mean a thang cause i came to bring the pain like tical
nigga, now, we're the juggernauts to this rap shit
bust a shot with ya ratchet
when suckas dropping that whack shit

[verse 3: joell ortiz]

ask them hood niggas if i hug the block
ask these broads if i slide on that glove and uppercut that box
man i come from the roughest so if i come up in the spot
and you bugging i’m tellin you suckas watch, i’m a take off that fucking watch
and scratch a, bitch, i'll be on a nigga ear, scream juggernaut
he hot, that don’t mean that he nice, y'all get that confused a lot
2pac, i don’t sacrifice what i write for the newest drop
big pop, us big boys still clean down to the socks
then sprinkle a little big l on top
i’m what the fuck you got, put porter rock
with a pen and eminem as a friend i’m touching this entenmanns
that’s cake, you little boys don’t get it so listen let’s make amends
we don’t wanna be bullies, y’all wanna get beat up
so lift your knees up and start running
or put your knees down on the ground and bow cause we the

[hook x2]

[verse 4: joe budden]
look, it's house gang on that shady street
chill, y'all already know the address
where the eulogy's said, so they assuming he's dead
before that body hit that bag yet
be face to face with them slugs
sad cause my goons ain’t load that mag yet
in the bottom of the ocean floating
they hoping they gon find your ass with that drag net (nah)
(blat, blat, blat) you're listening to a juggernaut
she just gon' sit by the pool 'til one nigga decide if i’m ready to fuck or not
rap is contingent on everything other than rap, so no we ain’t discussed a lot
it's sad when they wasting your passion
not do it for cash when they tell me they up the pot
nigga you would too, if you knew, what this game would do to you
been in this since 2002, look at all the bullshit i've been through
so-called beef with nobody's, i mention them and they nobody's
they say they killers, got no bodies, i’m sober talkin on no molly's
it’s joe probably won’t throw not one bottle in the club
honestly, it's worthless killing the purpose of these hollows in these gloves
and really i’m having a much better time on the couch with these models on my nuts
the minute we raid is the minute you’ll see us show these cock-a-roaches love (waddup)

[outro: joe budden]
what on earth will the fuck boys do next?"

Presents...30 Months

"with it looking like the new blogger interface sticking this time, i'm going to make this the first new post 'cause, oh yeah, i hit 2 and a half years of blogging yesterday. wow!"

Finally Finished..."Shhh...True Love's Speaking"

“true love suffers, and is silent.” – oscar wilde

“silent, huh? if you know me you know i love to quote oscar wilde, but…well, fuck being silent…

dear love,

what…the…fuck?! are you for real with this shit?! seriously?! ‘cause i must say it’s your fault i spend my days as a fuckin’ rodin statue. it’s all i can do to keep from massaging friction burns into my temples when my mind’s contemplating in philosopher-like thought exactly what the fuck is going on in my life. and it’s your fault i spend my nights sniveling like a bitch, crying rivers into my pillow because i don’t understand why the fuck you’re doing this to me.

i mean, is this usually how you treat a faithful disciple; someone who has spent his entire life dedicated to the belief in you? is this how you tend to regard someone who’s said, “i don’t believe in anything but love”? ‘cause that was me; those were my words; and this is what one of your followers gets for having uttered them. this is my prize for years of loyal service. not a bump in salary, not a promotion or title change; not even a corner office; you shit on a humble servant by allowing the only woman i’ve ever loved, to love somebody else more than she loves me. that’s my fucking reward?! that’s my fucking comeuppance?! thank you for that, thank you very much. you know what? fuck you love! fuck you!

(3o minutes later…)

i think i should apologize to you love; i’ve never really been a person who’s outwardly emotional and i think i allowed my feelings to dictate that prior message. i’m sorry for that, but you have to understand the position i’ve been put in. look at this situation from my perspective…

let me start like this… hello, my name is brian wilson, but you already knew that. anyway, once upon a time i loved a woman who actually loved me back. and in doing so, we’d used the word “always” to describe the love that we shared: as in despite any time that may elapse or any distance that may come between us, we’d “always” have that love connecting she and i. we’d felt what we had was transcendent and even today i don’t think either of us would dispute that thinking.

so you’ll have to forgive me for the beginning of this letter. because in believing that those things to still be true, it remains a bit difficult to accept that she chose another person over me to spend her life with. and that’s as genuine a statement as any made previously, or any feeling felt by me towards her. we’re supposed to be more…more than…i don’t know….more; we’ve both professed an undying love for the other, and even that love wasn’t enough to place her next to my side. surely you’ll agree having to hold on to that knowledge is a sufficient excuse, err, reason for the first two paragraphs. i needed to vent and while i don’t really feel any better about my situation even though i did, the language i used was inexcusable. again, i’m sorry. but now that you’ve seen things from my eyes, i hope what i did is at least understandable. i’m hurting because of this…still.

anyway, what else can i say? it is what it is right?

regards,

brian a. wilson

p.s. still a believer despite what i wrote. it’s who i am…but you knew that too.”

sometime around the beginning of '12. just finished today. i think.

Writes..."The Lost Art Of The Backhand"

“it appears to me that the kids of this generation were born with a gene that instills a kind of “boldness” in them previous ones didn’t seem to possess; something that makes them feel the last word in a conversation belongs to them and they’ll have it regardless of who they’re talking to. ok, that kind of thinking probably isn’t as fresh as i’ve made it out to be; i’m just saying i don’t remember kids ever being as audacious as they are now in saying the things to their parents that i’d probably merely thought…for fear of getting backhanded after the words had left my lips. is there no concern over catching a “reverse palm” in the mouth from your mother anymore? or whatever it is dads do when you sass them? (a karate chop to the throat i guess, i wouldn’t know…) because honestly, i don’t see any trepidation in kids about how they respond to their parents nowadays.

i saw this scene play out yesterday…

mom: “turn that game off before we…”

her daughter: (interrupting) “i am turning it off, i heard you. i have to…”

something, something… she said more words but i had tuned out everything but her tone by then. it was aggressive, bordering on violent, and i half-expected for the girl to get into her mother’s face if the woman had responded to what she’d said. look, i’ll be honest. in the past i would’ve just chalked this exchange up to how white parents allow their kids to talk to them, impertinent like that, because they want to be their kid’s friend rather than their parent. not that i don’t understand wanting to form a strong relationship with your kids; just form the right one. but i’m going off on another tangent…my point is i was wrong; having witnessed it with my own eyes, i’ve found this kind of insolence from children transcends race these days. black, white, red, blue, green…kids of every color are doing the same thing because for some reason they all think someone telling them to do something requires their feedback. and apparently there aren’t many people teaching them it usually doesn’t.

i wrote before that it was the fear of getting backhanded forced me to be cautious in how i responded to my mother giving me instructions, but i think that it had to do more with an awareness of not wanting to be blatantly disrespectful to her. so i did what i was told without interjecting my opinion on the subject. not that i was a perfect kid (because i wasn’t); or that i agreed with everything that she said (because i didn’t); but i recognized even at a young age, as a single mother she had enough stress to deal with raising three kids by herself; she didn’t need me adding more by talking back every time she was being a mom to me. maybe that was just me though.

i must be naïve to think yesterday’s situation should’ve played out like this…

mom: “turn that game off before we…”

her daughter: (turns off game without speaking)

imagine that… “parent tells kid to do something… kid does it immediately…and without opening their mouth…” hmmm…when did that become the exception and not the rule?

but i don’t have any kids so what do i know right?”

Writes..."Fate"

"i can only conclude that based on my interactions with other people that my definition of "fate" varies significantly from those i've heard use the phrase before. i believe in fate, i do, and nothing will convince me that i shouldn't; but i've seen that my "fate" and others' aren't really the same thing. example…me happening upon an old classmate i haven't seen in 20 years at a grocery store in a foreign city; i'd probably classify that as “fate”: the stars aligning or a pre-destined moment or whatever you want to label it. and i think that a lot of people would agree with me, but that's where i believe the "fate" part ends. i mean, i wouldn't call that chick giving me head in the supermarket parking lot twenty minutes later an equally unavoidable occurrence, and i certainly don't think she'd consider swallowing my load her "destiny". no, i feel that "fate" consists of a single instant, where certain elements conspire towards a life-altering event, but everything after that moment is an opportunity. it may have been "fate" that crossed our paths, but it probably wasn't the same phenomenon that uncrossed her legs in the backseat; we're still speaking hypothetically of course.

"why are you writing this brian?" good question, nosy person randomly asking poignant inquiries aloud. this is simply the real-life application of a theory…on the differences between what i believe: of what things are versus what they have been in the past. basically my thinking is, having written "loving her was fate" in a past piece, i was wrong when i penned that. and perhaps what i believed to be "fate" shouldn't have been deemed the conclusion of what we could be. instead, it should be thought of as merely the starting point of the future i’ve determined i want for myself. one day i had been lonely…and she had been lonely…and “fate” decided to put us in each other’s lives at that grocery store, through a social-networking site, or a chance encounter on the street…however; i’ll accept that as truth. “fate” provided the opportunity, but taking advantage of that opportunity is up to each individual person. if i hadn’t said anything to her in that moment, could i really say it wasn’t our “fate” to be together? ‘cause that kind of sounds like a bit of a cop out. if i had let the moment slip away then i wouldn't really know what she and i could have been "destined" for, would i?

but i hadn’t. when our moment came, i had done everything i could to take advantage of the opportunity “fate” had provided us. that was all i could do. so if my future didn’t include her, i wouldn’t be able to blame “destiny” for that…unless “destiny” had been the one that had swallowed her “destiny”. umm…nevermind.

no, loving her wasn’t “fate”; meeting her was. loving her was more like…inevitable.”