The Secret Song

First, let me thank those who sought me out and read my first blog. You guys and particularly one gal (Eelie) where not only supportive of this blog, but very nice to a "rook" like me. So for that, I thank you. And to my lone follower (wordshaker), thanks for tuning in and I hope you enjoy my blog as much as I did yours. Secondly, I am blogging twice today because I had two, very separate things happen today that need to be addressed separately. Just imagine my last blog put together with this. I would look like a crazy to go from sheer anger to secret love. So that, my friends and foes, is the reason fro "Blog #2" (like Song #2, get it?...never mind)

In twenty years of living, I have had, what most would call a large amount of friends. Some male. Some female. Some very wonderful people. Some the very definition of "ass-clown". But out of those hundreds, maybe thousands of people, a very select few I can call my best friends. It's a short list of guys and gals whom I cherish like seats in the kop for a game against Everton (Liverpool reference, I'll explain if you ask) And out of those, a even smaller few I call my true best BEST friends. The top five I would call them. My best best friends is a girl whom I won't mention by name because, well I don't want to sell myself down the river. She has been my friends for some time now, in excess of and Olympiad. (trying to be secretive) But as with most guy-girl relationships, there is but one problem.

Love. I fear the word like a toddler fears the sharp, icy end of a doctor's needle. But with this person, it has always been there. For her, I think see enjoys me as the guy she can always depend on, short of her father or her favorite soccer player. For me, I love her more than...well, a fat kid loves cake (damn it, 50 cent) both platonic-ly and much to my own chagrin, un-platonic-ly. She is nothing short of one of the funniest, smartest, nicest people I have ever meet. Which are both qualities good for a wonderful friend and a good girlfriend. But, as most guys in my line of friendship would tell you, she is also very...very attractive. A stone cold fox, and I would never use such a cheap, 70's throw away line like that on any other person. But wait there's more.

We were over joyed to find out we would be going to college close to each other. I'm sure that the running odds on us getting it on between my friends in my neighborhood were better than those for Big Brown in the derby. But when we got to college(s), she fell for another guy, a friend of mine, and while I could fake my happiness for them, I could not fake wanting to see them together all the time . So I tried my damnedest to get out of seeing them (uh...I need to...polish my jazz shoes? I gotta get back to school for the...uh...lunch special...yeah.) After about a year of me running like a bitch, I found out that they were leaving their school and going to another. I was elated and dejected at the same time. No more happy couple to rain on my single parade. But no more best friend to have on those nights when I just needed a shoulder to lean on or a friend to call. So I continued on in my college and they went to their new college and me and my bestie drifted in to separate worlds.

Until now. We have made contact lately, and it seems we are both very tired and depressed about the current state of our affairs. The promise of a boyfriend and his seemingly unrelenting love has worn thin on her and she is think about finishing it off. And a life with out my best friend, love or no love, was becoming too heavy to bear. I didn't just miss the secret love. I missed the friendship. I am a human. And most of us do need companionship in life. My companion for a better part of an Olympiad has been her. So now, we are each others shoulder to lean on. I need her and for now, it looks like she needs me. So I have my bestie even if she is forever and a day away. But in the back of my mind, the love is still there. and now with the trouble in paradise, it has come back louder than a Who concert. So do I go with it, or hold on to the friendship I need so much? I don't know. And I may never know. But I know this. These things don't work on Grey's Anatomy, and I feel they won't work here either.

The Thrid Song

I love sports. So try to follow me on the analogy. It's forth quarter of a football (American) game and the team is losing 25 to 22 and we have ten seconds left, no time outs, on the own thirty and three seconds left on the clock. The coach could A) call in the field goal unit and go for the tie and overtime, which might beat down more on his already beaten down, beaten up team or B) go for it all and try for a touchdown, knowing full well he could lose it all. That is now what I have to do.

I am usually a peaceful person. I just like to be left alone. But when people won't let me be alone or do my own thing, I get frustrated, depressed and all the other thing that a person who keeps to himself would get. For the past few weeks , my step father has been growing more and more incredulous to me and it has start to drive to a point where I am tired of dealing with it. I have known this man of the better part of 12 years, which could best be described as "less than stelar". Some times, things are great, and most times things are lousy. Earlier this year, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Of course, in the state I was in, this made things worse. After all, I do care for my step father as a human being and it made me deeply sad. Now, I'm going to preface this by saying my biological father died from lung cancer when I was twelve, so this is not the first time I have had to deal with cancer. Which leads to this statement, for some one with cancer, his attitude has gotten worse. Of some one who could very well be headed down a path to certain doom, he is still being as aggravating and counter active as he was before hand. Today, in the span of three hours, he has kicked me out of my room (down stairs to upstairs, which is where I was for most of my teenage years) citing the fact that "It's too much space that he needs" and "that this is my area and i want it back", stated that he thinks that I am using too much water in the house and I should stop using so much (I take a shower...not even every day and I am rarely in the shower for more than 15 minutes tops) and that if I don't start following his orders that I am going to see a side of him "I don't want to see". The truth is, I have seen that side already. and I don't want to deal with it. In my current state, that side might drive me to point of near destruction, and that thing I fear the most.

So I am calling in my quarterback and going for the touchdown. I will be telling my mother that I want out. I have no job right now, but it has gotten to the point where I would rather be on the street than want to try to deal with a person who should have a better out look on life due to the cruel hand he has been dealt. Ss i stated earlier, I like to be left alone and the best way to be alone is to go some where else. Where? I don't know. But better to get out now than to go down later. I know this sounds like I am being a jerk, but my stepfather is not "dying" per say, in fact, he is doing fine. He is able to do his own thing which includes lauding most of the blame for what is happening in the house on me. So let's see what happens when the my team tries to win it all on the last second call I make, and see when I leave, who will he have to blame then?

The Short Song

I am about take a walk before I knock my stepfather two ways to sunday... but when i return I'll have a new, possibly expletive laden blog for all of you..until then, I'm getting out of here before I punch something. Oh and I should have new not me pictures when I get back as well (taking the camera to capture this lovely gray day in the land of peaches and stupid people) until then...love

The First Song

Hello world. I'm William, I think. I'm entering the "blogosphere" and I am scared to death. This is the first of many of these "songs" I'll be writing to let the world keep tabs on the life of an unemployed, depressed, self deprecating, hopelessly romantic, slightly underwhelming, and sorta talented 20 years old. And yes, I am all of those things...for the most part. If you want to know more about me, check out my Facebook which also happens to hold my first few musings about the world in Facebook "note" form. I'll give you a short introduction in case you don't want to hop over seven pages to the old FB.

I'm 20, I'm black, and I'm a dancer. That's it.

Kidding. I was born in Cleveland, Ohio (go brownies!) and I am a "student-in-waiting" at Wright State University. Why waiting? Well, I'm "waiting" to get my financial aid back so I can go back to school. I have often been described as an Oreo and not because I look or taste like a Nabisco snack cookie. I am not mixed, but being brought up the way I was, attending a Montessori school where I was taught by a very sweet,loving, and wonderful white woman, I ended up sounding and acting like a cross between Carlton from "The Fresh Prince of Bel Air" and Mike Tirico from ESPN.


In the past couple of months have sort of fallen of the face of the earth, as a friend so eloquently put it. So now in my first attempt to put my life back together, i have started this blog so that the world can watch as some one who has completely fallen in to the hole of semi-depression (doctors pulled the trigger to early and called it that but backed off in later sessions) and near non-existence (yeah I thought about it) is going to try to put himself back together again. Each Day, you get to see (or read rather) what it's like to be me. From all the crap(sic shit) with my friends and family(there's a large amount), to the happier times, which I swear come along from time to time. So, If your willing to listen, I have a song to sing. And I think it's worth hearing.