From My Drafts: How To Remain Celibate (Without Really Trying)

Sometimes I just think of a concept I like and try to write about it. Sometimes it works out, other times the tone completely changes in the middle of the post. That's what happened with this one. When I started writing this post, it was intended to be lighthearted and jocular. I soon realized that most of it is actually true and it wasn't so funny to me anymore. I also sounded like I was biting the Humanity Critic's style, so I never posted it. Anyway, maybe you will find some humor in this one. I wrote this back in early July. More sad truth about Rashan!

How To Remain Celibate (Without Really Trying)

It's amazing how easy it is to not have sex. Sometimes just a simple word or action will keep you chaste. I sat down and thought about what's (not) going on. Here are some of the ways I have managed to maintain my unintentional celibacy over the last few months.

Not Returning Phone Calls - I don't ever answer my phone. Usually its because I'm busy or sleep, but sometimes I just don't feel like hearing about the same old stuff over and over. I had an old partner call me a couple of months ago. It had been a while and I just assumed it was the regular old catching up phone call. I didn't even listen to the message until a couple of days later. When I finally returned the call, I was quickly informed that I suck and I should have called back sooner and all the rest of the lecture that I always get when I neglect to call people back. And then just to make matters worse, it turns out my one missed call was a booty call (do people still use that term?). Chalk one up for the abstinence police.

Inappropriate Memory - Met this girl named something or other. Thought I knew her, but couldn't remember where from. After a couple of days talking on the phone, it hit me. She used to dance at the Blue Flame. Her stripper name was Black Desire. I found a pretext to ask her about it, and she lied at first and said it wasn't her. She told me the real deal a couple days later. As much as I like strippers, I can't see myself messing with one. Hypocritical? You damn right, but it is what it is.

Post Coital Pillow Talk - The last time I had sex, we did what we did and I was damn near sleep. She kept fidgeting and talking to me. I accidentally said "Are you still talking?" I know that was messed up. I was thinking it but I didn't mean to say it out loud. Oops. Coincidence or not, there has been no return engagement.

Multiple Personalities - Occasionally, T. Cas decides that he wants to come out and play. Rashan is a nice guy who sometimes has a smart mouth. T. Cas is a smart ass with a mean streak. T. Cas usually lies dormant until the liquor gets in me, but on a few occasions, he has come out saying shit that Rashan regrets. Like the time when this girl read me a poem she wrote. Rashan would have said something like "oh that was pretty good." But T. Cas said something like "I see where you were trying to go, but the rhyme scheme was a little juvenile." Not the best tactic for convincing a girl to swallow my babies.

Clueless - I sometimes get my Stacy Dash on and get real clueless. I have no idea that a chick is feeling me. I miss all the signs until its too late. I don't see a light touch on the arm as the flirting it really is until I analyze the situation later. Then I curse myself out for being so dense. Probably also not a good idea to ask "Why?" when she asked me to put my number in her phone.

Nerd Alert - I have to remind myself that not everybody gets me when I'm in nerd mode. Instead of finding me scholarly, they find me pedantic. So instead of saying "talk a lot" I say "loquacious" or instead of just saying I don't like Lil Wayne, I break off into a ten minute diatribe about how he just babbles incoherently in the hopes that the listener doesn't realize that what he said doesn't actually mean anything. Or coming up with specific examples of how that line that everybody else thinks is so hot is actually a bad simile that would make Rakim commit suicide so he can turn over in his grave. See I'm doing it again. I gotta remember to dumb it down for my audience if I'm gonna actually have relations sometime this year.

Just Plain Not Trying - Here in lies the major reason. By no means do I consider myself to be God's gift to women, but damn, some of the ugliest, no job having, treat women wrong type brothers can get some, so why can't I? I guess its because I don't try. I could analyze myself and say its a fear of rejection, or maybe it's because I just I don't wanna be bothered with people. I don't know, I haven't gotten that far in therapy yet. That old adage applies to my dealing with women: "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." Shit, maybe I just want someone to chase me and do the hard work.

Whatever the reason, I'm in a dry spell. Nah, check that. My shit is like the Mojave. I have been unintentionally celibate for, nope I'm not even going to type how long. I started this post making jokes, but now looking at the truth of the situation, I'm actually kinda depressed. LOL. I might as well start looking in to a monastery.

Alternate Titles: We're Not Making Love No Mo', Unintentional Celibacy, No Sex And The City, How To Talk Your Way Out Of Sex...

Reflection Eternal

I apologize in advance for the cryptic and rambling nature of this post. Insomnia is kicking my ass tonight. I promise I'll be back to normal tomorrow. It's damn near daybreak and I'm up for no reason, just reflecting on my life. I do this every now and then when I can't sleep. That's why I always have the TV on or some music to distract me. Today, I'm watching the History Channel (with the close captioning on), and got the Erykah Badu blasting, but I can't shake the feeling. I gotta reflect.

I don't even know why I'm writing this, because half the shit going through my brain, I can't even talk about. Or more accurately, I choose not to talk about. I've become more selective about the pieces of me that I share on the blog. You know the basic personality, you know the motivations, you know some of the major events, but there is so much I don't say. When I get like this, I sometimes wish I had the guts to just say what was on my mind, damn the consequences. If you could see some of the posts I have in my drafts, you may have an entirely different perception of me. I wrote about some of the ill shit that I have done, some of the mistakes I have made, some of the ill shit that has been done to me. I just can't bring myself to post them. Part of me thinks that I should just let it all out, cuz it makes for some damn good reading, if I say so myself. But the other part of me worries about the effect of what my words would cause. Would you see me differently? Probably. Would you see some of your favorite bloggers (intentionally plural) differently? Undoubtedly, you would.

I reflect on the last couple of years and I see it like a movie. Maybe it's because I did nothing this weekend but watch DVD's, but my thoughts are real cinematic right now. I think I could pass off some of my experiences as fiction and sell them to Hollywood. I guess everybody's life is like that. Maybe it only seems dramatic to me, but the last two years would make a pretty good rising action in a plot. There is one big story that I have been itching to tell, but for the sake of keeping the peace, I've kept to myself. I mean, nobody, blog world or otherwise knows this story. Bits and pieces may have slipped out after a couple shots of Jack, but the whole story is locked up in my vault. People may think they know, but they have no idea. I'll take the blame for that. I've refused to talk about it, I've lied about it, I intentionally planted misinformation to avoid talking about it. I've been trying to psyche myself up to tell the whole story, but every time I get to the point where I wanna let it out, I self censor myself. And if you been reading me for awhile, its not the story you think I'm talking about, although it is somewhat related.

I guess the reason I've kept quiet is that I really don't like confrontation. I try my best to avoid conflict with people, to the point that I let them get away with their slanderous words and misperceptions of who I really am. And that's my justification for keeping quiet. It really wouldn't do any good to talk about it, except for the cathartic possibilities. I may feel better talking about it, but after that momentary feeling of relief, nothing will change. Drama would be all stirred up for no reason other than me wanting to get some shit off my chest. And is that really worth it? Once again, a rhetorical question. I've already decided that it's not worth it. Except on nights like this when I can't get my brain to stop working no matter how many times I put "Mama's Gun" on repeat.

I know I'm not the only one that keeps stuff to himself. I can always tell when I'm reading blogs where information has been intentionally omitted. I just decided (like as I'm typing this sentence) this week I'm going to try to tell you guys something that I have been holding in. Not necessarily the aforementioned story, but something that I have intentionally kept secret. I have to decide what it's gonna be. I think it will be good for me to unburden myself, as long as nobody else gets hurt. Check back tomorrow and I'll hopefully will have come up with something from my drafts that I was hesitant to post. This is gonna be my week of full fledged, unbridled honesty, whether it paints me in a bad light or not. Bear with me, it may not be pretty, but it should be interesting.

Insatiable

I'm gonna be all the way real with you. I gotta problem with never being satisfied. I don't mean that in a good way, like I don't stop til I reach my goal. What I mean is, when I get what I think I want, I find something wrong with it. It makes no sense, but I might as well just be honest with you. I may just be a tad bit out of my mind.

If you go to a strip club, there's always a guy trying to hit on the waitress...

I've been that dude before. In the midst of all the ladies willing to dance butt ass naked for me, I had my eye on the waitress. She was like 4'11" and had these hypnotizing grey eyes and a smile that lit up the smoke filled club. Shawty had me open, ordering drinks I didn't even want, tipping her like she just was working on the pole. Wondering how much it would take to get her to start stripping. There was a point to this rambling, I think. Oh yeah, some people (by that I mean me) are just never satisfied.

By now, you are probably wondering what in the blue hell I am talking bout, so let me explain. I said I didn't want a relationship and I don't. I like the whole "just dating" thing. I like the fact that Sunday-Thursday, I can just do me and not have to worry about placating someone else. I like that Friday and/or Saturday I can chill with someone without all the expectations of a relationship. I've been getting exactly what I want. So why the hell was I thinking crazy this week?

I found myself wanting more. Now hold on, before you get the wrong idea, let me clarify. I don't want a girlfriend right now. I think what I want is someone who wants to be my girlfriend. Maybe its an ego thing. I'm so used to having people doing their damnedest to get my attention. Even though I don't want someone who is gonna call me all the damn time, I wonder, why doesn't she call me all the time. How come she doesn't want more from me than I'm willing to give? I know it's nuts and I should just be happy that I'm getting what I want, but my brain is thinking otherwise. Could it be that I really do enjoy the stalker bugaboo thing? Do I want someone who is way more into me than I am with them? What the hell is wrong with me that I can't just be content with things the way they are?

My ex told me yesterday that this was good for me. Now I can see what I always do to people. She said that I act all sweet in person, and then aloof when we're apart. I hate to admit it, but she's right. It's like looking in a mirror. I know I keep people at arms length, but I'm not used to it happening to me. I'm used to looking at my phone and smirking because someone is calling too much, not looking at my phone and not seeing any missed calls. And at the risk of repeating myself, this freedom and Rashan time is what I want. But what do I do if its not what I want anymore?

I'm not really asking for advice. These are just rhetorical questions that I've been asking myself. By the time anyone even reads this post, I'll probably have come to my senses and be thanking merciful God that I'm not being pressured into a relationship. I'm just never satisfied I guess. Either that, or I'm out of my mind. God, I hope she never stumbles across my blog. That would really, really suck. LOL

Whatever Happened to Truth Hurts?

Whatever happened to Truth Hurts? Remember she had that song "Addictive" and was on Dr. Dre's record label, then released another album with Raphael Saadiq? Where the hell has she been? Before you start thinking that was just another random question left over from my last post, I mention "Truth Hurts" for a reason. That's one of those over used cliches, but it's really applicable when it comes to my life. So, in the interest of (semi) full disclosure, here is the truth... I don't know how to relate on a friendship level. I've had several conversations in the past week about friendship, and I've drawn the conclusion that I am a terrible friend sometimes, and I probably will always be. I say that because although I can see that my words and/or actions are hurting people's feelings, I don't have any desire to change.

First Conversation: I don't want to share all my personal shit with other people. I think it's partly because I am a private person (BTW, I know that is a contradiction for someone who blogs). It's also partly because I don't like to be in a vulnerable position. Consequently, I don't always share when I'm going through something. Finally, I think I just don't trust people to handle it properly. If I need to talk about something, it's really just to get it out of my system, it's not because I need you to fix it, or that I'm going to ask you for a favor. The times when I've shared my inner most personal problems in the past, I've been burned. Either I wasn't taken seriously, or people weren't there for me like they said they would be, or even worse. I have adopted a fool me once, shame on you, fool me five times, shame on me philosophy. If it makes it any better, I am an excellent listener, even if I don't talk.

Second Conversation: My blog gets me into trouble. I have to walk a fine line between revealing my feelings and self censoring to avoid hurting other peoples feelings. Friends seem to like it when I tell it all, unless they recognize themselves in something I write. Then its "I can't believe you told them that." Or if I take the other approach and leave information out, then they don't feel important. I can't please them all either way, so I just have to do me and say what I want to say, and not say what I don't want to say. Which leads me to my point: I have alienated two friends with one post. In my last post, I had a sentence with a edited thought. It was just one of many sentences in the post, but the one that both of these women chose to key in on. They wanted to know what I was talking about, but I didn't want to tell them. It was a private thought that was not for public consumption, otherwise I would have just typed it out and not gone through the trouble of disguising it. Apparently, that's not something that friends do. Friends are supposed to tell each other everything. Well, I can't do it. If that makes me a bad friend, then so be it. Never mind that each of these women have secrets of their own that I'm sure they don't go around telling all their friends and family. If I wanted to tell you, then I would have. It's as simple as that.

Third Conversation: I have a slick mouth. Everybody knows that. I also am a stubborn person. Everybody knows that too. It maybe a cop out, but it is what is. I am who I am. In the face of ultimatums, I'm not going to respond the way you want me to. I don't have that compromise gene in me. I mean, I'll compromise for my woman, but if you aren't that, then you don't get that side of me. Remember, I'm always right even when I'm wrong. While I can understand where other people come from, ultimately, I am going to do me. Even when I try my damnedest not to say something, it eventually will come out. I will bring up old shit or make the smart comment to illustrate my point, I will tell you that this is the way its gonna be, and if you don't like it, then you need to not call me anymore. I can acknowledge that that is not the best way to sustain a friendship, but that is the way that it is, the truth.

Even as I type this, I already can predict what's going to happen. Let me get my Miss Cleo on for a minute: I'll get 3 or 4 text messages asking who I'm talking about. I'll get a hurt phone call at around 10:30 AM telling me not to do it like that. I'll get an angry phone call around 12:30 pm calling me a mean fucker. And I won't be remorseful or sorry that I wrote this. It was necessary. Because the truth hurts... and the truth is I'm an asshole sometimes, and there's nothing any of us can do about it. If you can look past that, I'll be the best friend you'll ever have.