I fuck with a Boss. I worship a cross. I’m a star baller being coached by the mastermind of hustler. My grinds gritty. My face pretty. I loathe self-pity. My language witty. My dream crush nipsey. But, it can’t be. That’s ALL Lauren. He adores her – RESPECT – I gotta lot of sense. Not common. Rare. Pressured. Flawless. Like Bey.. I woke up like this. Yeah, I woke up like this.
I crush hard. I’m shy. I pull my hush card. I’ll always look you in your eyes. Social anxiety. I run solo. Trekking up this mountain. I’m ADD. I’m manic. I hate. Hate. I love. Love. No panic. Rypolar. Bicoastal. I hydrate in ocean lined states. I’m a body mechanic. Hush Life body enhancement. My bed a hammock. A mental tune-up. I feel better with color on my skin. I feel better with color within-ME. My ocean runs deep. Ry’s island. My secret lush garden. My etheric energy causes you to harden. Demons creep. I weep my insecurities to four am. My inner turmoil. I regroup by digging my hands in soil. Life. Living. Giving. LOYAL. Change means growth. I’m growing so fast I need new clothes. Straps on my boots broke. Constantly pulling them up. Super glued soles. No excuses. Superglue hold. I win on a bluff. No crutch. I’m icy. Chanel shades. Feisty. Fuck I am who I am. I am MAHRIAH. A survivor. A girl on fire. A super woman. A wild wind. A force with in. A Sasha fierce. You want a piece of me?? Britney Spears. I’m crazy sexy cool. Around the world girl. I’ve lived lives within life. I’ve lived that world. Right now I’m in the cut. Laying low. Shaping. Sharpening. Shadowing Z…
I can’t get enough of this girl. I’m addicted to her. I’m conflicted by her. I need to know her. Adore her. I’m falling in love with her. Love making love to her. I’m beginning to become her. My characters are beginning to merge. All the extra I’m learning to purge. Communications getting better. I’m learning to use my words. My smile is my sword. Fuck my lock pick. Universal language my smile opens ALL doors. Floorboards silent. My stilettos on the shelf. Grind time. I rock my combat boots. My roots. Authorized housing. Bright BlueDoor. I learned to ask for what I need and take what I want. I’m in my head. I’m in my body. I feel less crowded. Less sweet. More naughty. Personal space. Perimeter me. By invitation only.
Something has to change. Something has to give. The pressure is so intense. More often than not I’m asking myself if this is ALL worth it? Tomorrow I don’t even want to wake up. On my way home I was half way praying my car would get shot up. Fuck…. I’m so tired. I mean this is really a lot. With each day the pressure rises. I fuckin hate surprises!
ALL day I remind myself why I’m choosing to do this… Why not just move to the Hampton’s and live in bliss? ALL I want is to wake up tomorrow and get my kid ready for their first day back to school. Make sure their outfit is tight and supplies list is right. But, no. I traveled a different road. I’m ready for a new route. I keep forgetting to eat. My smiles are coming less often. It’s 11:55 – five minutes to midnight. I’m too exhausted to eat. I have forty towels to finish washing and get rolled up. They need to be back to hush by 8am and ready for clients. I’m writing this post to diffuse my inner bomb while I wait. Listen to voice-mails, check emails, 5am will be here way too soon. Tomorrow is a decision day. Decisions mean you gotta pay to play. In my world pay-offs are huge. I’m getting fed up. Overwhelmed with continuous payment of dues. I’m not living my calling. I’m fighting the force. The universe is moving and my body has stalled. I feel like I’m being suffocating and ramming my head against a brick wall. My hands are all cut up. My fingernail mangled. Not feeling very pretty. I let the tears flow. They must come out to renew my soul.
What am I supposed to be doing? Why God are you making this so hard? When will you let up? When will the rainbow appear? How can I not feel doubt and fear when the end feels so near? I’m only one person. What wont kill you makes you stronger… well I’m dying inside. My delicacy is gone. I’m rough and tough and my strength is hardening me. I’m so tired. I can’t even sleep.
I never expected my life to be like this. Not ever. Not in a million years ever. Quiet. Deafening silence. I’m becoming most worried. Because, It’s my normal. I don’t deal with loudness well. Chaos. Constant movement. Commotion. I like stillness. I like complete and utter silence. Do I though? Growing up… I always day dreamed the life I would have. I would walk through my future house. I’d decorate it in my mind. Room by room. I had it all figured out. I always imagined a loud house. A busy bustling household. I imagined guests and neighbors, friends and family, children, events and parties. That was my life. A husband asleep cuddled up next to me. Bedrooms full of children. What I never seen in my visions were animals. Never a dog. Definitely not a cat. Never ever animals. But, lots and lots of people. I always heard music. Dancing. I would smell the food from the other room as I ran back to check on it. I would feel love. The energy filling the kitchen as we set the table and then cleared it. Full bellies. We’d lounge… and laugh. Warm summer nights. Sitting on the large porch. Talking. Loving. We’d decorate for the Holidays and support one-another in our events and accomplishments. I imagined road trips and long talks. This was my life! I seen it. I lived it in my mind. Over and over again. Day after day and night after night. A thousand times. I seen it. I smelled it. I tasted it!
And here I am. No deja vu. The house completely dark all but a single candle. No music. No laughter. No breathing. No little one to check on. To tuck in. Nobody to get ready in the morning to make breakfast for. No husband to crawl in bed and cuddle. Just me. Just me and Capone my lifeline I never once imagined. Life is really something. Can’t tell you the last time I shared a meal with someone. Not once have I shared my dining table with another person in the last three years since moving back. I eat out of takeout boxes and pizza boxes. Cooking makes me cry. Sometimes I play pandora to fill the empty space and after a few songs grow annoyed and turn back to quietness. My candles and incense bring me calm. I talk to myself everyday. Full blown conversations. Most would consider me crazy I’m certain. But, Capone hears me. He understands too. Everyday brings with it a list I can barely digest. Overwhelming to-dos that feel like suffocation. I can barely breathe. I can’t keep up. I juggle and fall and cry. Then get up. I feel stranded. I feel stuck. I feel fucked. I hush myself to sleep. Toss and turn. It’s so hard to stay asleep.
Good morning. Slept late. Later than I should have. A struggle of mine. A night owl at heart. Living in a silent house makes it difficult to get up some days more than others. Today is Sunday. I truly believe a Sunday well spent brings a week of content. I need a week off so bad. No phone. No contact. No internet. No appointments. The whole universe is telling me; this is what I need. When will I listen? When will it be forced? Why can’t I just tell people/clients NO. My schedule is booked solid. Between work, family, weddings, birthdays, and more work. I just want a me moment.
I woke up today laid there in bed. Deep in thought. Daydreaming about coffee. I said to myself… You are BOLD. But, it’s time to become BOLDER. It’s time to advance. One of my favorite secret moments is when my GPS is directing me someplace and then she magically says “you’ve arrived” I LOVE THOSE WORDS. I say to myself… Hold Card. Yes, darling you are on your way. Soon you shall do just that. Arrive. I know in my humbled heart I have not arrived on the level of which I so desire. The destination is close. The journey is in process.
Anyway, as you can see I suffer heavily from ADD. What I was saying to myself this morning was. I must not be afraid to be BOLD. Fortunate favors it. If I don’t want to do something. I need to say politely, thank you. But, no thanks. If everyone wants to eat somewhere that I do not. Garbage I don’t want to ingest into my temple. I need to say politely, thank you. But, no thanks. I don’t have to participate. I am a true leader. And true leaders do not create followers they create more leaders.
I’ve been away for quite a while. I completely lost my passion for writing. I’ve been blocked. Just lately… I have felt the intense urge to begin writing again. A hunger within me. If you’ve followed my memoirs from the beginning. You’ve seen me at my darkest hour. And although I shared so much. I was still incredibly guarded. Paranoia. It did destroy me. My last post years ago. And now I write. STRONG. blessed. Progress-ion. A new frame of thought. I am still on my journey. A husband in prison. I grind daily. On a mission. For a better life. I’ve swallowed my pride. Learned to walk again. One step at a time. My confidence is back. I’ve earned that. My journey is one which should be shared. If you knew me… in this outside world. You might be surprised by my story. I share it with few. Where do I begin telling you what I’ve been up to?
Thank you for all the encouraging messages since I stopped writing. Through email, facebook and twitter. I appreciate you. My life was quite dark when I originally began this blog. It was my refuge. My way to release the rage, sadness, emptiness inside. You witnessed my nervous breakdown. You witnessed my rawness. My ending and new beginning. My life had collapsed beneath me and I had no idea how to fix it. Stop it. Accept it. Embrace it. I wanted to die. I wanted to DIE.
So, much has transpired. Eventually I shut down completely. I hated myself in such away. What I had become. But, still I did not completely give up. God never left me. Ever. I have witnessed more in my 35 years then most will ever see. I moved away from that magical strawberry scented beach town. Where I used to write. I love that place. I believe the sound of the ocean saved me. I was so high… not on life. Trying to escape the misery. But, the time came and I knew I had to leave. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to face. Going back to my hometown. Home the furthest thing I felt. My grandpa. My rock. Fell ill. It was time. Time was ticking. This move would change my life. My brother was missing. Mastermind was gone. They took him. Again. I spent every single dollar on lawyers, marijuana, and never-ending bills.. while I wallowed in my self-pity. I promised my grandpa I would never forget him. I knew what I had to do. That time had come. My high gone. Rawness. Realness. Hollowness. I was frail. Meatless. Bones. A walking ghost. I slept on the floor. In my car. Not my new BMW. I lost that too. I had myself and my little dog. He is my constant. I faced humans who I share the same blood with that despise me. Frown upon me. Share the same air in the same room. Yet will not speak. I faced them. I faced them ALL. ALL by myself. I held my head. I stood my ground. Alone. Ready for battle. Ready for anything. Whispers. Snickers. Looks of disgust. I sat there. I stood there. And I was proud. I was silent. Lethal in strength. While each domino fell.
My brother surrendered. He was home. He was safe. He was back. My brother. My twin soul. My mirror image was back. My grandfather could rest. He was so tired. He was so ready. My brother was safe. My grandfather let go. For me three traumatic blows. At this time I witnessed miracles. Miracles that no words can describe. Feelings of intervention from the divine. My heart forever changed. I could never view the world again the same.
We awaited trial. Court rooms after court room. I’m losing ALL my men. Mastermind. My Grandfather. My brother. My stepson. My nephew. I am all alone. But, I have my constant. I have Capone. #TBC