a good man with a broken heart.

I know it was my pops’ wildest dream to see me grow old with a partner, with a house, car, successful in so many ways. It kills me more than people know that he won’t be able to see that in the flesh. As I continue to elevate different parts of myself shed uncontrollably. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t that way. It’s not what I want half the time, but I do acknowledge it’s what I need. 

As humans we tend to ignore what we need. That shiny new thing we want. That life we want. The person or community we want next to us isn’t always healthy for what’s written in God’s will. All summer my health took a hit because I focused on what I wanted which was unhealthy foods, I wanted to be lazy and not do much. To be clear, it’s not bad to have lazy days or self care days, but it gotten to the point I didn’t go to the gym at all. I woke up a lot of my days in a mood. Felt super sluggish. 

I changed habits towards the end of August, drinking a gallon of water a day and eating below the calorie limit. In this, I felt more energized. I even stop drinking monster energy drinks. If anyone knows me I used to drink those daily. Sometimes twice a day. I always felt like I needed a pick me up. That’s where the “want” comes from. 

We take this same concept and apply it to life, changes and challenges. My birthday is exactly one week from now. Everyone that was once with me two years ago, hell, even one year ago are not around me now. That’s by design. I want this people around of course, but is it the healthiest thing for me? No. It’s not. That’s the most gut wrenching and horrible thing to accept. 

WESTSIDERS with WEST. out now. here.

In my recent adventures with God, I asked the most high to put me in position to experience softness in my connections with people. I know typically when people hear that word they may think of it in a sexual, sensual, romantic way. What I really mean is, I don’t want to put on a mask around you. I want to be able to breathe and be viewed as a human and not the guy that you seen on stage a million times out of the year, or constantly being put up on your social media feed. Much like I expressed in the previous blog, I hardened myself up to conversations. God answered the prayer in many ways I have to actively take note and understand my character. 

I made a new friend recently. We met at a Jazz Club in DTLA a month ago. We both shared a love for music, sampling and DJ-ing. Last week, we hanged out for the first time and right off the back they was like “Alright, what’s your lore? Your Story?” I’m like huh? I responded with saying, I’ll only share if you have capacity. They said of course I do I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. I been so accustomed to being put down by friends that would be “concerned” about my well-being” yet turn around and criticize me for always digging deeper to understand my emotions. This new friend I made was an answered prayer. 

I felt such a sigh of relief that I finally don’t feel so fucking crazy with all these experiences I been having over the last couple years. I’m starting to think that yearning for normalcy, is just a thing of yearning for my community to understand me. I want to be understood. In that want, I have to challenge myself and take a chance on people. I was definitely stuttering and extremely nervous that I’m going to scare this person off saying “hey, my dad passed away at the same time I was trying to leave my abusive ex-girlfriend who still randomly pops up to this day. The community we occupy doesn’t do shit. Doesn’t fucking help. Some of my closest friends don’t believe me or take it seriously that I am a domestic violence victim so I’m mentally fucked and developed a work addiction. My brother, my mentor and multiple family members passed away in the middle of all this. I also passed away from covid and came back by the grace of God. All in 5 years.”

I’m trying to do the work. It’s grueling, but I am super appreciative of being granted those moments of softness. It was hard. I was scared yes, however it also proved that there’s warmth somewhere on this planet. 

jiji's Jazz Club event in Collaboration with The Balcony and SOS Productions

RSVP here.

As for the other positions I was put in this month to further analyze my relationship to softness. On a business level, there was conflict in setting goals, seeing things eye to eye. Typically, I would say what I need to say, but not in a confident way, almost as unsure of myself. Sometimes I wouldn’t even share the full truth as to how I feel. In this case, I actually said what I needed to say and felt what I needed to feel without judgement. Without thinking, “man was I too harsh? Was I being an asshole? Was I wrong?” No. I have a right to feel just as the next person or people involved in the situation. No one is wrong. I just have a habit of getting in my own way when it comes self-expression. 

Another position I was in (that I had to forcibly put myself in) I contacted a close friend about how I didn’t feel supported when it came to my situation of processing domestic violence inflicted on me. I avoided saying anything for a very long time, because the wound is so deep. I’m not the type of person that want to make anyone feel uncomfortable, but however being approached with dismal of my feelings because there’s belief that this person couldn’t have done what they done, or because you’re friends and want to stay neutral that hurt. In addition to this, I rarely hear from them. When shit goes down in LA, like the fires early on I’ll see if they’re safe and they need anything. 

I guess reciprocation with emotions can go a long way. I see this as a potential cycle that occurred with some close friends from middle/high school. I stopped being as close because I felt I was made out to be overly emotional and I was in-tuned with my emotions more than the average person. It’s happening again, but just in a different context. 

Anywho, this friend, I haven’t spoken to in about a year at this point. I sent a prefaced message not to catch them off-guard or “soften the blow.” Then I said what I needed to in a voice memo. I really didn’t want to do this. I certainly wish I could sweep this under the rug and never have to think about it again. However life just don’t work that way and that’s not who I am as a person deep down inside. That sucks. I sent this message 2-3 weeks ago. I haven’t heard back. They usually take a minute to respond, but something tells me they just going to pretend it doesn’t exist for a long time. 

With this on-going Cold War between me and this person I felt I can’t be around old community members. My old friend group. They would hang out and I feel like me being present would fuck up the vibe, because I’m holding something inside someone present isn’t willing to care about. Kinda feeling as if I’m being fake laughing and giggling with a person that I know doesn’t care about me in a way that a friend would. 

There could be a disconnect, and I try to give grace through that. However at a certain point it’s just “are you even going to try to understand?” Me being black, and experiencing all this grief. You know everything about me, all the death, despair I have to endure. I’m not asking for anyone to clap, cheer, give a standing ovation or kiss the ground I walk on. I’m asking you, “Can you understand and be here with me?” That’s all the fuck I want. From any and everybody I ever contact with. We can disagree of course, but when you see I’m hurting and don’t do anything I have to question you. I need to question you. 

This past Saturday night was rough for me. I had a panic attack. My PTSD was triggered receiving a text message from a different friend saying that they missed me, but however again decided to play neutral on myself situation. I called a someone that used to work in the domestic violence field, and she calmed me down. I have those attacks more often than I hate to admit. I just don’t say anything about it. Mainly because I don’t know what exactly to say about it. I shame myself all the time because when I’m having these attack my intrusive thought becomes “I got to call Scarlet.” I know damn well I don’t need to call Scarlet for comfort. What the hell is that going to do? For whatever reason, my body wants to call her. 

Amidst this battle, another one sprouts up and I’m feeling like I want revenge or for her to experience the same level of emotional/mental distress I’m in. Again what the fuck is that going to do? I’m not trying to do that. That’s not cool. The mental gymnastics of going back and forth thinking “did this person really love me? Was they trying to hurt me? Or what was really going on?”  

The grief of not being able to articulate disturbance is huge one. Primarily because who is going to understand it or again try to? Once upon a time, I tried to explain that grief to Scarlet, that literally just made everything worse and community members just kinda shunned me ever since. Everyone wants to be like “well you made a musical.” I’m here like “I created art to understand what’s happening to and inside myself.” On the surface it’s just a bunch of rumors of me trying to shoot down someone’s character. This same community of people that was present including Scarlet when my Dad passed away, I feel don’t stand with me today. 

It’s a thing of not being selective with your outrage. Just like white folks being up in arms about Charlie Kirk and his death upon stating an opinion on a political platform, however when we say Black Lives Matter our leaders get killed. When we say no more ICE in our neighborhoods racially profiling people and kidnapping people they don’t want to attempt to justify breaking up families. Trey Reed from the south was Lynched but no uproar. I have a problem with people that started an uproar about Jimmy Kimmel being silenced, but the hundreds and thousands or journalists being silenced and killed over Gaza reports. Today, it has been reported that Jimmy got a his show back. I’m willing to bet that people are go back to regular scheduled programming. No Uproar, no nothing. The voice of a white man unfortunately what makes everyone pulls out all the stops. 

What are we really talking about? Are you really about community? Are you really about empowerment? Are you really pro-accessibility? Just because I’m a man that experience domestic violence at the hands of a woman does that make hurt any less important dear friends? Dear community. Does it? 

Being a christian doesn’t give you a free ticket to say whatever you want without consequence. We are in the land of “you talk shit, you get hit.” He got hit. I don’t wish death on anyone and that’s a horrible way to leave especially in front of family. No one should experience that, but the same man you implore me to have empathy for wants me dead based on what I look like? What culture I am apart of? This world is some twisted shit. 

The pain of being alone last Saturday. The beginning of that day I didn’t even move from my bed. I went to the gym in the more and that was it. I went right back to bed and didn’t get things I wanted to get done, done. 

If you’re a friend reading this, I just ask for softness and doesn’t have to be the level of getting too deep. I just ask that I don’t have to hide my pain, my discomfort, my love for you or anyone else anymore.