K's Random Thought of the Day #10

Dreams of F*cking a RnB Chick

Okay. Post #15 of this 30-Day Shindig (we're halfway there, y'all. OMG!) is: My Dreams. I actually started this post on MLK Day, which is about as appropriate as an American's post about dreams can be. I originally intended this to be about my goals and aspirations and all that other folksy bullshit, but I couldn't even get past the first sentence of this things going that route. So let's talk about the other kind of dream - the kind that project from my subconscious and my senses when I go to sleep. This is sure to get pretty interesting. Let's delve deeper into the disturbed recesses of my mind, shall we:

Lately, I'm been dreaming about Stem. Back when I was drooling over her and would've been glad to have her star in my wet dreams, nothing, but now that I don't see her, don't talk to her, don't text her, and rarely even give her a passing thought, she's popped up twice. Kissing, cuddling, nuzzling, generally canoodling, and, once, even walking down the hallway with me pressed up against her ass (and what a wonderful ass it is. I should think about it more often.).

Whether we're being highly inappropriate, yet giggling (chuckling in my case, of course) our asses off and snuggling our way through the school or driving across town and snuggling our way through the streets and avenues, the outcome is always the same: We have the greatest time together, but in the end, we never get past that certain level. When it comes to the time in the dream where cliche dictates that she spill her feelings all over me and declare her undying love.....nothing. For some reason or another, she won't let herself have me.

What does it all mean? Well.....Probably exactly what it was. I've never had a dream about somebody I know that didn't literally (I mean, down to the dialogue) or figuratively happen. I don't know if that makes me some kind of psychic or just sensitive to that kind of energy or whatever, but it's true. And it's weird. And it's confirming what I already suspected - Stem wants me, but she's terrified of having me. And that changes nothing unless I want to invest time into convincing her not to be afraid to be with me and be out about it, which I don't.

I've moved on.

So if it's not my thinking about her that's causing the dreams, it (maybe) means she must be thinking about me. Well, I'm flattered, really, but it's too little, too late. A woman's gotta do a whole lot more than think about me if she wants to be with, even in my dreams.

Fuck You, Cupid.

Love, like, lust, sparks, butterflies, connections, all of that shit. I was gonna say it sucks, but when it's right, it doesn't, so I'll refrain (for now, anyway). I'll also take it as yet another sign that what I'm feeling isn't right and I should just say fuck it, but, damn if I don't feel what I feel, regardless. I'm not even really sure how I got to this point; I just wish like hell that I wasn't here. At the same time, I don't wanna lose my spot, whatever that may be.  Maybe I'm deluding myself by assuming I even have one, being arrogant by assuming I'm number two.

What's Happening Now

Hey, hey, hey!

Don't look at me like that. If you've been reading for a while, you knew it was coming. Anyway, I know it's been a while, so lets get you updated on what's transpired in the mean time and inbetween time:

Off the Wall

Nawl, this ain't got a thang to do with Mike Jack. This is the Part 2 to my first adventure with Miss Pokey - the part you freaks (and I say that with true love) have been waiting for: The Dirty Details.

I guess I should start where we did:

When the movie was over, I gave Dubs the bruh hug, she and Pokey said their goodbyes to each other, and she left.

Alone at last.

Back On the Scene

Dating here sucks.

There are plenty of people, but everybody either knows everybody else or has fucked 'em before you did. And we all know how small the circle of black lesbians who date other black lesbians is in any city, regardless of size.

Then you've got to do some subtraction: Take out the studs, the stems who only date fems, the fems who only date fems, the fems who are too aggressive for my liking, the fems are too submissive and/or prissy (not to be confused with being feminine) for my liking, the fems I don't find attractive, the fems who don't find me attractive, the fems I'm incompatible with, and the fems I've already been involved with, and who's left?

I Only Have Myself to Blame

I'm sure those of you that follow me on Twitter are wondering what happened to me and Coco. We seemed to be doing so well on our road to working things out again.

Yeah, well....I thought so, too. But one day, Coco hits me with "We can't do this again."

I, totally bewildered, of course, ask what it is that we can't do.

"This," she says. "I don't want us to be two people stringing together as many good days as we can. I want to be with you, but that's not going to work for me. I need more than that."

Well, that sucks, because I can't give her more than that right now. And I only have myself to blame because she broke up with me because she was taking my advice.

Coco was my lil' parrot. She isn't much for the innanets, but she'd literally read over my shoulder and comment as I typed and responded, as she was doing when I basically responded to Laconic Icon's situation with C by saying it's the closed mouth's own fault if it doesn't get fed. And Coco, as you all know, is hungry for a ring and a family, and that's a meal that's not on my menu.

I'm not, in truth, not terribly surprised. I mean, this is why I broke up with her initially. We wanted - and, apparently, still want - two different things, and I'd never want to keep her from being truly happy and fulfilled. "You were right," Coco told me. "That first time. You were right." Never thought being right would suck so much.

I'm just a little sad and numb, right now. I miss her so much. My heart hurts. My arms are empty.

I know that this is it. Her mind is made up, and we both know it's for the best. I don't think we can be friends. That only leads to us fucking, which only leads to us getting back together, which only leads to...this. So the cycle breaks here.

I'm coping like I always do. Doing a lot of flirting, burying my pain between the thighs of the girl I call in times of sorrow. That only happened once, though. The sex is great, but it doesn't help. The old me would have kept fucking her 'til it did help, but I guess I've grown up.

All I need now is for the scent of Dolce & Gabbana to fade from my pillow and favorite sweater.

The Bold and the Beautiful (The SFG Story Part 2)

Mmkay. When we last left our heroine, she was in the restaurant with Apples, SFG, and SFG's newly reinstated boyfriend, Leandro.

Aaaaaand, action!

She's Engaged...to a Dude (The SFG Story, Part 1)

But she wasn't when I met her.

Super Fahn (Fine) G. was single, technically. Had just given her on-again-off-again serious boyfriend his walking papers again. She was probably looking to rebound, which was all good with me because I had just broken up with CoCo and was looking to fuck her out of my system. That wasn't the healthiest coping technique, I know, but it was what it was.

The Ballad of "Stem"

I told this story to Slim Tuesday when I went down to Macon to wreak havoc and terrorize the townspeople and all that good stuff, so I figured it's about time I let you in on the details, as well.

Most of y'all already got the short and sweet of my thoughts on Stem (that's Stud + Fem for those that don't know) in the "Chicks, Man" post, but allow me to elaborate:

On to the Ex One?

So, sista's got this complex situation:

My ex (let's call her Coco) and I can't seem to stay away from each other. (I'm warning you here; After the back story, things get very explicit.)

Now, we haven't actually been girlfriend-and-girlfriend since December, but, for a while there, we were trying to work things out. Sadly, we couldn't figure out how to fix things. We both love each other a lot, still, but when two people want two very different things in their immediate futures, it's usually time to let it go, at least for a while.

Chicks, Man.

Ah ha. The post you've been waiting for...The one about girls. I'm not quite sure what to say about some of them, yet, as there are a few works in progress, but I can at least give y'all the rundown of who will be showing up as blog subjects from time to time, names obviously changed to protect the innocent and the guilty:

Apples: My work wife. Cute, straight, funny, smart, sorority girl, recently engaged. A Class A nut in the best way possible.

Bosslady: It's a love/hate relationship.

Mama: Soon to be former landlady. The love of my life. The bane of my existence.

Slim: One of my best friends. Lives a few hours away in the town we went to college in. Cool ass white girl, lesbian, semi-playa. My platonic boo.

Stem: My 2nd ex-work wife. Super sexy. Super thick. Super single. Semi-touchy-feely-flirty (with me, anyway). Lesbian? Is playing hard to get (and I don't like it). Ongoing crush and lust at first sight. The potential girl of my dreams.

Sunshine: A former college roommate. Sorority girl. My ex-boo. Super smart. Super cute. Super bubbly. Straight? Very touchy-feely-flirty. A genuine sweetheart, or so I thought. The first person to break my heart. Everybody loves or is in love with this girl.

Super Fahn G. (SFG): Apple's best friend. A teacher. Engaged and head over heels, or so it seems. Touchy-feely-flirty (Clearly, I have a type). Straight? A former crush. A current object of admiration. We had a connection the first time we met.

Dubs: Ex-work wife from my ex-job. College student. Touchy-feely-flirty. Straight. A full out playa on the surface. A hermit on the inside. Former lust at first sight. Current wing man.