y.

 everybody has a why. why they do things. why they want success. why they want to be the best in their field. etc etc… and it’s safe to say i’ve lost mine. how long ago, i’m not sure. 

i’m not sure. at all. 

they say whenever you’re finally at peace w death, you just calm it out until you do the deed. and i feel i’m approaching that aspect. being so fed up w life, strung out, worn down… whatever you wanna call it. all these internal and mental fits ive had… maybe it’s just a precursor to me ending up finding that final peace. 

things to wait and see. 

- DD3

from the notes.

 

idk how much longer i’ll be alive after i write this out. idk if i’m at my wits end or if i’m just trying to convince myself that i’ll make it to see whatever else in this life is worth seeing. because honestly there isn’t much here for me. i don’t feel there’s much here for me. whatsoever. the pleasantries in life i thought i knew are long gone. and i think over time whenever i would always tell myself i’ll live to x amount of years, it was just me trying to talk myself out of k*lling myself. but low and behold, here we are, barely a week after turning 28 and im back at square one. im not fit for this and im not worth the trouble. nobody will ever love somebody unconditionally. parents included. if you don’t fit their standards then you aren’t fit, period. and i’ve lived the last few years of my life as such. just doing what i want however i want to because this life is meaningless at the end of the day. there’s nobody that’s gonna make me feel like i can’t take my life. and there isn’t anything i can do in this world that makes me feel like there’s something to look forward to. all happiness fades at some point, smiles turn to frowns, eagerness becomes pessimism, and expectations become stonewall rejections. everything changes. life is so malleable, so it’s like well Trey why don’t you change the way your life is going.. 

el. oh. el. maybe it’ll just get better once i’m not here. we’ll see. 

- DD3

Seasons. September 2021.

 the scarcities of affection

a plague of the human senses

when even the slightest touch

sends my nerves into a frenzy

what i need vs. what i receive

two sides of a spectrum

i never want to be polar opposites

but it's cold inside

my heart feels frigid

like if you removed it from my chest

it would emit an aura like dry ice

the problem is the handlers of said heart

seem like it's not a priority

to handle something so delicate

so volatile

as they have..

as they do...

as i've allowed them to

after so long, when the sun is at its highest

the heat reminds you of something you forgot

a saying about when you can't take the heat

remove yourself from the kitchen

sometimes, the sun will be the best metaphor

to remind you, specifically, in this case

that sometimes the heat in the kitchen

is the most bearable kind you may be able to handle

when you're not used to anything hotter

- DD3

checkered flags.

 the stance of being a black man (& openly bi one at that) is a convoluted one at that. but one thing i’ll never do is demean my own race for the sake of uplifting another, especially if i may be involved w a no black person. i see it a lot, especially within my own family, and more so with cousins and family around my age. the willful blindness to the black plight is one thing.. but it’s another thing whenever it’s being used to compare blackness to another race or culture with the statements coming out speaking negatively about that black person’s own color. black people that solely date outside their race or only talk to potential partners that aren’t black, something i’ll wholeheartedly never understand. and don’t let it be somebody that uses the old tired and tried trope about how black women are loud, obnoxious, mean for no reason, don’t support their man the way a white/latina/asian woman does, etc… the complete irony of it all is these the same black men that tweet/post the question about whether or not black women still like black men, or why black women date outside their race themselves. 

well i fuckin wonder why, Cletus. 

i personally don’t have any issue w a black person dating outside their race, but leave black women out of it. leave them out of the same sad ass rhetoric for your reasoning why you aren’t involved or don’t date them. “black women never liked me, idk why” could be cause you a goofy or you stink, or you just not poppin enough for em, it is what it is. 

and another thing…. STOP gettin involved w nonblack/white folks that really show their asses when it comes time to talk about race in any capacity. cause a lot of black men find themselves dating/marrying/having kids with these nonblack women that really don’t give a fuck about blackness or the safety of black people whatsoever. with all the police brutality and modern day lynchings of black people goin on all over the country, hell even the world tbh.. and your nonblack partner don’t feel no type of way about it nor do they have anything to say about it either... just so long as you can give em their prized mixed kids. which, in itself, is another subject to discuss but.. at the end of the day, date who you wanna date, marry who you wanna marry, whatever… just leave black women out of it. 

- DD3

foghorn. july 2021.

 

the rooster outside my window

doesn’t crow at the crack of dawn

a sun barely peeking 

over the horizon to greet the earth

a warm welcome to another 24 hours

that we’ve been bestowed to experience

and there’s no noise at 5 AM

alerting me that it’s alerting me

something is coming

something i may want to see

something to energize my spirit

nothing.

what could possibly bore him so much

that something as breathtaking as the sun

saying hello to the world 

for the first time that day

invokes no reaction from him

other roosters will make noise

greatly, proudly

not him.

not anymore.

a switch is no longer on for him

now that he can’t find beauty

in something that once gave him so much joy

it could be a reach

maybe he went blind

he could just be annoyed with the other roosters

so much that their noise

makes him see less of a need for his own

now the sun is up 

i’m up

and his face is the same

just to do it all again tomorrow

-DD3

the community pool.

 ever since i was a kid, i always wanted to have everything mapped out. my future, my career, etc etc.. I wanted it to go to plan all the way thru. of course, as you get older, you realize the fact that life doesn't obey rules or abide by whatever plans you've made for yourself. the problem is, i still feel like that kid in me that wants to plan everything out and hope it goes the way that i have it planned. and ironically enough, i saw a post a while ago that said whenever you're suicidal or whenever you plan on doing something to yourself, you plan up to that point of whenever you made that deadline for yourself. but when life happens and you live past that point or that age when you thought you wouldn't make it, that's when you basically improvise everything. and i feel i've been improvising shit since i graduated college. jobs, relationships, emotions, my inner peace, my sanity.. all of it. everything has been decided and done on a whim and half of a prayer. my impatience grows seemingly every day, and i hate building my hopes up for things even if it's the next day. when you're used to things falling through and not coming to fruition, you give up the hope that anticipation is worth it. i turn 28 next month and if you ask me how excited i am to turn 28, i'll probably just not give an answer. at least, not a full fledged honest one. because truthfully, as Jack Nicholson said in A Few Good Men: "you can't handle the truth". and i don't think a lot of people can. they may convince themselves of otherwise, but the truth is that the truth hurts. most of the time. and not being able to stomach it is just a part of human nature to a degree. and in my truth: i've been coasting thru life. no solid plan, my ambition feels dead to rights, and i don't see much of a future for myself. i live too much in the moment to worry about that kind of thing honestly. i feel like a lot of life lessons i had to learn on the fly.. and most of em that i feel i should know by now? i don't. i'm scared of the person that i COULD become for the wrong reasons. i'm anxious of the person that i COULD become for the right reasons simultaneously. if things end w somebody, i blame myself and go on about life because the world doesn't revolve around me and it'll continue to revolve whenever i'm dead. life doesn't owe anybody anything quite honestly, and i think i've reached the point where i feel like i'm diving off the deep end. not in a nosedive yet... but we're gettin' there it seems.

- DD3

bastard.

i feel like there’s a lot for me to say. and yet my waning inspiration seems to prohibit a lot of words from coming out when i want them to. tyler the creator dropped his album and the two songs that hit my spirit the most are “massa” and “wilshire”. both songs in some way make me really give an introspective look on how my sexuality itself has manifested over the years, most specifically the last two. when tyler himself said on “massa”:

“ We ain’t gotta pay attention to the stuff that he battles

Everyone I ever loved had to be loved in the shadows”

that in itself made me feel a way because while i have been able to love people out loud and in public, i never felt like i could openly express who and what i love because of various conflicting feelings as i grew older. or got older, which is important for me to say because getting and growing older are very much different. one thing i have learned is that to deal with traumatic events from your childhood, you have to take care of your inner child.. let them know that whatever happened to them wasnt their fault, and that they deserve the love they didn’t receive. but that’s exactly where i am now: trying to cater to my inner child, but not having a single clue how to do so. stunted growth that has transitioned into my young adulthood and has shown itself to be a detriment to my day to day because of that lack of knowledge. my inner child is definitely still here, but i haven’t found the right words to tell him. i haven’t manufactured a plan to make sure he knows that he didn’t receive the flowers he should’ve. that the times when he cried for no reason were valid and that he wasn’t weak because of it. the times when he didn’t feel like if he didn’t abide by his father’s wishes and date girls more often or meet his father’s standards for who he would turn out to be, is solely contingent on his dad’s ideals and not Trey’s. Young Trey is still there, and he’s still crying. and the adult me is trying to console him with eyes full of water himself. time will tell if they both figure this out. 

“underneath the tongue, where flesh is weak, and the nerves runs deep; when enough force is exhibited, there’s no escape” - Mick Foley

- DD3

marvin gaye.

 admitting that you need help usually is the first step to doing so. and it’s something that i’ve had so much of a tug-of-war with for basically the entirety of my existence. i’ve always felt weak for having to do so, and over the course of the past few months i’ve had no choice but to resort to doing so. and in that stead, i’ve felt like less and less of my own person and more of a vessel spiraling into insanity. i fully understand that life is sumn that you make of it yourself, it’s just felt like more and more of the things i’ve been using and doin to try and make life better for myself have been taken away. and idk how much longer i can take just living day to day off of purely survival. because there’s so many of us that move on a daily basis strictly off of survival... the things that they felt they had to do in order to, indeed, survive. learning to be more cognitive of my decisions and working better towards trying to be a more structured human being rather than being as impulsive as i’ve tended to be. trying to acclimate myself to how i’m adjusting as a person has been difficult, also. coming into my own still, and acknowledging the life choices that i’ve made as far as what and who i want in life, is still a day to day thing. at some point, it’s gonna be me just taking what i want out of life before life itself takes me out. or i do. either way, i’ve come to terms w feeling like certain things in life that i thought were for me.. ain’t. kids, relationships, etc... maybe it’s because since the pandemic, i’ve done more isolation than anything. more time to think, more time to analyze and realize what i’m supposed to take from this time on earth. this isn’t me saying i’m close to giving up and whatnot but.. yeah. 

- DD3

p*r*i*d*e

 june 1st. the beginning of pride month. and on a grander scale, 30 days of bs from multiple media outlets portraying their support for the lgbtq+ community and then when July gets here, going back to their regularly scheduled programming. this of course is a bothersome thing to see, but at the end of the day it doesn't surprise me because the performative nature of not only the companies but people wanting to show themselves as "allies" just because of the month itself. if i'm being honest, being open about my sexuality has been one of the most polarizing things i could've done in life. and as much as i've said it before, it hits my spirit the same way now that it did the first time i actually said something out loud. within the first few weeks of doing so, i thought that things would get better for me, both for myself and regarding my relationships with the people around me. yet nearly 2 years later and it feels like a mistake. sure, people reassure me that it wasn't and that i should be proud of being open and that also it's a bold thing for me to do, but it shouldn't have to be, if you think about it. it shouldn't take years and years of questioning your worth and your existence and the very reasoning for you being here (if you should be here) for someone to feel at comfort to disclose that information. but this is the world we live in, and at this point, this world is becoming less and less of a priority for me. livelihood, wanting to see where life takes me, the whole concept of my future, etc. i won't say this isn't on a slightly suicidal train of thought, but i also won't say that i'm not gonna write this and then off myself. it's just the gradual build up of frustration, sadness and trying to stay sane when feeling like i've already lost said sanity. fakin' it til i make it has felt like all i've done for over a decade tbh. and i'm supposed to turn 28 in a little less than 3 months. time will tell everything at this point, but here we are. 

whatever you take away from reading my blog, it doesn't really matter what your perception of me is afterward. this is as vulnerable as i feel i can get without going literally insane, because the plethora of thoughts and urges and whatever else comes to mind feels a bit much even for my own personal internet haven. and truthfully, i feel like i repeat myself a lot here.. and i don't mean to be. but if you do read this, and genuinely care about my well being , just know i love you. regardless of what may or may not happen to me. 

- DD3

jon’benet

 the more i think about it.. like really think about it.. i don’t think i see myself being a father. i don’t. for a multitude of reasons. first off, i’m black. and this world has proven time and time again that black lives don’t matter like they’ve *recently* started to proclaim that they do. they don’t. and i don’t need to watch the news at all to figure that out or find that out. i hate the idea of bringing a black boy or girl into this world and then they fall victim to the same things that so many other black folks have. regardless of age. i know to a degree it should make me want to protect them more, but it really just shifts to “ no💜” amongst anything else. also, i’ve never really ever fantasized about being one. i wonder what my kids would look like every once in a blue moon, but it never really struck me as a goal. a lot of people have the idea of having a family on their lists of things to do in life. the older i get, the more that just seems.. like not the move for me. and i feel a lot of regret as i type this up, but a lot of self realization has happened this year, especially over the last few months, and in all honesty, being a das just doesn’t feel like it’s in my cards anymore. of course, i can’t say that it’s a definite 100% thing, cause life is weird. but i am just not feeling like fatherhood is a thing for me. i’m still working on dealing w trauma from my parents to begin with... i’m still tryna take care of them and their ailments and everything, and a baby right now just feels like a lot. or for however long i feel like i’m not gonna see 30. idk. 

 - DD3

minnie riperton.

 relationships. love. kids, marriage. all of it feels like foreign concepts to me. things that i feel like i should have full knowledge and awareness of, but yet i feel like i have next to nothing to say about how i feel about these things. nothing at all. i look at people close to me finding people to share time with and sometimes get jealous... but only sometimes. i don’t really feel like i’ll ever know everything i need to know about those things. and the things i know right now are enough to tell me that none of those things feel like they’re my strongest suits. at all. for a long ass time, i’ve had trouble coming to grips with the fact that i have trouble with stepping out of comfort zones. putting myself out there. risking getting hurt for the sake of someone to have next to me for the rest of my life because that’s what we’re taught as kids. as you grow up, you have to do  XYZ in order to become successful, to be well-liked, to have something to your name, to leave a legacy... to be a man. and a lot of times i don’t feel like i really know what that entails. 27 years old, soon to be 28... and still not knowing how to navigate the world and be his own man. or what he feels his own man should be. fitting the mold of what i’m supposed to be. managing to make it to see another year (knocks on wood) without something catastrophic happening. i’m sorry if reading this confuses anyone or makes something feel off putting. a lot of the times, i feel like my thoughts are just ramblings. i don’t know. 

- TG3

bud dwyer.

 it was a tweet i saw a couple days ago that said "niggas said they battling demons and the demons be bisexuality" or somethin' along those lines. whether it was intended as a joke or not, that thought has been stuck in the furthest left part of my brain because, reasons. there are days i'm fully comfortable in who and what i am, and then there's days when i'd rather have that information about me remain strictly my business. 2018 was the year i came out to my parents. 2019 i came out to the world. and now in 2021... life has had a funny way of reminding me that things have been considerably worse i find it terribly ironic of how my relationships w my parents have started to deteriorate the same time their health really starts to. finding myself has certainly placed a permanent wedge between whatever that would be of the relationships that we already do have. looking back, it's only driven me further away from what they wanted me to be and who they expected me to be. and i know that's a set-up for the "you have to live life for you" rebuttal, which i do know and am aware of. but it's all just life's way to reminding me, like the tweet said, that it's felt like a demon that i've been battling since i ever opened my mouth to tell the world my business. the emotional roller coasters it's put me on since, which has affected a handful of the friendships/relationships i've had (or thought i did), directly and indirectly, is a lot for me to digest all at once. my new therapist and i definitely dove into that subject at length, and with where i am rn, it feels like that's always gonna be something i'm battling with. and honestly, this feels like all i ever blog about nowadays. and in retrospect, that should tell you something about how much something like "coming out" feels like the biggest crap shoot you can make in life. some can do so at young ages, some you don't know they were until they pass on. i always figured that would be something i'd keep to myself until later on in life when i felt at peace enough to say so. and to be honest, the moment in time when i did come out, there was little peace present. every day i feel the need to apologize to everyone who considers themselves to hold a place in my life because they're either concerned for me and i don't have the will or desire to elaborate about the strife i've felt these few years from that. broken clocks are right twice a day; broken records don't last two seconds. and i've reached the point where i've felt as such. it's not a suicide note, by any means. but please don't take it to heart if ever or whenever i don't have much to say. or anything to say. guess i'm just battling the demons.

"this will hurt someone"

- DD3

phyllis hyman.

 feeling important to someone is a sensation every human wants whether we admit it or not. there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be desired and wanting to be appreciated for the person that we are and are working towards becoming and manifesting for ourselves. so when suicide becomes such a subject, it can stem from a plethora of things... but truly killing yourself is one of the most courageous things anyone can do. coming from the son of parents who chastised him for attempting to do so, i’ll never make anyone feel bad or lesser than for attempting to handle that themselves. i have scars on my forearms from younger years from self harm that remind me of certain points in time when i was in the midst of contemplating such. which goes back to my first point of feeling important. suicide and the tendencies of such are so linear... there’s not always tell tale signs that someone is suicidal or even going through the motions of having the thoughts. i could be in the middle of planning my own demise and no one would really know. i go about my days with a pure smile. a painful one. the kind that comes natural but still feels like the skin on my face is being tugged at to echo the kind of toothy sneer that would put The Joker to shame. if you’ve ever read about The 27 Club, it’s something that’s stuck itself in the back of my brain since i found out about it in college: a group of musicians and celebrities who all died at that age. Kurt Cobain, Janis Joplin, Fat Pat, Jimi Hendrix, Amy Winehouse.. safe to say i prematurely predicted i’d meet the same fate. and seeing as how i have a little more than 4 months left to be 27, who’s to say. for the majority of my life, i’ve never felt THAT important. and coming out to parents that don’t wholeheartedly accept it (if at all) doesn’t help with that. even before that... i treated myself like an option because i’ve seen life as just that: optional. you choose whether or not you want me around. the duality and the pain of free will. but alas.. i’m saying all this to say check on your friends, loved ones, whomever. help people feel important. make yourself feel important. cherish your relationships. love someone. the futility of life is precious and its an iridescent aspect of waking up on a daily basis to see the face of someone who cares about you. even if its one person... even if the face isn’t in person. do yourself that favor. 

“how many drugs did you do ‘fore you realized you numbing ya flaws?” - Guapdad 4000

“do you think you’re better off alone?” - Alice DJ

- DD3

truth be told.

 i'm tired of black people becoming hashtags. i'm more so tired of black people protesting/rioting and nonblacks/whites showing off performative allyship and concern for what we goin through for a week or two and then goin back to their regular lives unaffected and uninterrupted while the affected folks have to continue to grieve and be subject to violence/trauma on a daily basis. i try and speak my pieces and show my support for the families of slain black people any way i can and know how, but to see how little progress (if any) has been made over the years since Mike Brown and Ferguson, Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Eric Garner... the list goes on and on. I'm just beyond tired. i don't even ask "when does it end?" anymore, cause in a world where someone dying can be visibly recorded on camera and the killer still gets off with a slap on the wrist and they try to compensate the suffering family with money.. what more do i need to see to lose hope in the fact that progress won't ever be made. 

also: it's 2021. if you not black and don't understand the concepts of racism and police brutality, then if you CARE enough, you'd do your research and learn these things on your own. don't use what's happening as an opportunity to burden your black friends about these things especially whenever you can tell that it's a draining subject to them. and save the repetitive rhetoric about having black friends and whatever about why you continue to be a dumb ass on these issues. if you wanted to do better, you would. so if you don't, then you are indeed part of the problem.

- DD3

alanis morrissette.

i had a nice cliché thing to say at first but i forgot as soon as i started typing. story of my life, really. truth of the matter is that my insecurities have been starting to get loud as fuck lately. even with the more solid and loving circle of people i have around me now, it seems like i feel... worse? perhaps it’s because i’m 4 months removed from turning 28, and a lot of times throughout the day i question if i’ll make it to then. not even solely from a suicidal standpoint, what if life just decides to happen and something happens to me which is out of my control? but what ifs are just that: what IF. nothing concrete about it, but the mind is such a powerful thing, for both good and bad reasons. getting back into therapy has been more of a hassle than it should. getting my emotions into some kind of order so that way i can feel like something. like somebody. like i have a purpose that’s to do more than just constantly do for someone else and not neglect what i need. but the constant neglect is what led me to becoming such a recluse. i don’t like asking to help... i DETEST asking for help. which lands me into more predicament last than i’d like to name. but it’s safe to say being a victim of sexual assault at a young age, it rearranged a lot for me in life. and now at 27, it’s come to the point where i stopped allowing myself to feel joy. even if i did, it was riddled in some kind of forced traumatic response. and honestly, i feel like i’ve been living off survival tactics more than anything else: no method, no plan, nothing. my temperament seems so bothersome, and i have no clue or idea of all what triggers me... things i’m still trying to figure out. i’m angry, i’m confused, i’m sad, i’m bewildered, i’m lost... but somehow i’m still here on a day to day basis. because i feel like my future is such a weird thing to think about. forever seems like a lie in a lot of senses, but whatever i live to see, counts as such. attaining peace has been troublesome, and i feel like i’m gonna lash out. soon. something has to give... and as i remember what i wanted to say at the beginning of all this drivel: it's ironic that my main love language is words of affirmation, but yet i hardly ever grant myself the privilege of loving myself like i share with everyone else. something's gonna happen, i feel it. not entirely sure if it's gonna be good or bad either. we'll see.

"who got the feelin'; tell me why i cry when i feel it... tell me why" - brockhampton

- DD3