alone

its something im going to have to get used to. people have lives and i cant always be a part of them.

maybe i ask too much from the people i want to be with the most. maybe im too demanding. maybe i shouldnt get upset when i dont get a call or text. but when thats all i have and i cant see that person..am i so wrong?
when texting has to get me through my day and calls through my night, am i wrong for being upset when they dont come?

i spoke to a few friends about this...this was the advice i got

"Find some new friends. find someone to take her place when she decides to go m.i.a. or out or whatever."
"Find a girl on the side"
"just dont sweat it."
"take a few steps back, dont let her be such a major part of your life. that way you cant miss her as much."
"take a break."
"i told you this was gonna happen...just let it go."

obviously none of these were the help i needed.

i could use some new friends...

she came home not too long ago. we had a great time, even through the problems. if there was ever a moment that i knew i loved her, it was when i sat downstairs with her mother's halfway drunken ex waiting for her to walk downstairs. and when she did..my entire world stopped. she wore a white dress with blue, red, and yellow flowers. her light makeup was flawless. her hair had grown some hardly brushing he shoulders and some sections had a few crinkles. her cleavage was perfect, not too much and just enough. the sun shined on her just right...like a sign from God.

speaking of...i believe that he has been trying to reach me. it seems like his name randomly comes in throughout my day. or i might notice something that one might say is..."divine". i think (in a grandma way of thinking) that all the problems between me and my girlfriend might be the devil trying to ruin something meant for greatness.




i digress. my mood has changed since i started writing but the fact remains that while she is out drinking/partying and my other "friends" are off in their college lifes...i am here. i am alone. no lonely moments. i am truly and utterly alone. and i hate it.

((i hate this post. but i needed to update))

wishful babbling

somethings must happen.
many things cannot be changed though we try to avoid them
if i had three wishes they would be:
1) to be able to materialize an endless supply of money from fingertips. ((with which i would buy everything i need to life comfortable and provide the stability and security that she desires))
2)that i could obtain super speed that equivalent of the Flash's [who ran to the end of time] and flight ((with which i would don a suit and mask and save the world from itself))
3) to ses the genie or whatever free like in Alladin and have him use his powers to help me forever cause we're friends now.

seeing as how life will never happen like that..im stuck looking for jobs and worrying about meeting ends...FOREVER.

i often wonder why people are so afraid to die, when living is just a big pointless hassle. learn, work, pay bills, work, pay bills, work and die. is that all i have to look forward to? im not excited

if i could change any one thing about my current situation it would be that im not back at Howard. i often find myself flustered at the fact that she is sometimes too busy to entertain me. i have come to realize that its not her being too busy...but me not being busy enough. if i was at howard, i would be just as if not more busy and wouldnt be so stressed. then again, its possible that we woulda fell apart if i woulda returned.
OR
i would bring her back home...

i have acquired my license and enrolled in a school which has been enough to take the burden of my family off of my back. they seem to be proud of me and have been easier to live around. the tension has eased. driving really eases me. all i need is a great driving cd and a place to go.

i feel more alone than ever. all friends have left for college so my driving ability is almost unneeded. its frustrating. no one is here...no one has time for me...its just me.

i need to be on a campus.

i wish...so much was different...
though things are better...im still miserable.

dead man's thoughts

trusting those whom i know not to.
i have always been a trusting guy. always giving others the benefit of the doubt, no matter their track record. Tarrance Sr has, yet again, reminded me of why this act came to an end. he often reminds me why i no longer trust anyone.
he promised me a car
he promised me a room in his house
he promised me freedom
none of these he can deliver.

i am upset. no. im beyond that...but the word for extreme and suppressed anger escapes me. i got my hopes up. i trusted him. i was excited. after fighting so valiantly, i realized that i wanted Tarrance in my life. i needed to know what my Foster roots were like. for once in my life, i desired for a man. some one to talk with, to swap sex stories with, someone to ride downtown with, someone to fill the void that my female friends couldnt. i needed to embrace the source of my anger. i was excited. i thought that maybe living with him would help me change. make me a better person.
but like always, encountering him has only made me worse.

he has promised me $1500 so i can find my own car for hum to buy. i wont get my hopes up.

my body runs on auto-pilot. not much thinking is required to interact with my "family". i will begin to work soon, but i will not disclose where at. my "mother" tries to get me to tell her by asking daily, or asking how im going to get there, or asking how far it is, or threatening to turn off my phone. hopefully i can receive my first check before she can. i dont eat in this house and i have no car. so i hardly eat at all. i am losing weight. i feel as though i am dying. my mind is hungry and cannot be fed. mentally, im withering away. there is nothing left for me here.

my predictions often hold more truth than i wish.

though our relationship has changed and our love strengthened, i still feel...forgotten. not forgotten completely for she does call regularly and texts daily but often forgotten momentarily. it could be that because i am not completely busy all the time or maybe i have grown TOO attached, or maybe im just selfish. but i feel as though moments when i need her the most, when i have reached my limit or am ready to break down...she is busy. too busy for a broke city boy. this...neglect (for lack of a better term) often leaves me bitter and standoffish towards her. in addition to that, my frustration and sorrow lead me to become a recluse in my own relationship. always tending to her needs, but hardly listing my own. i am pushing her away...and i hate it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------fear-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

i believe that is what fuels me now. before the hate, the rage or the love; it is the fear. the fear of being stuck here. the fear of not being able to provide. the fear of losing. the fear of being lost. the fear of life. i continue to keep to myself (save for this blog and its few readers)out of fear. i am so on edge, so close to nothingness that im afraid that if i tell all., if i vocally express my issues...i could lose composure. i might cry

i accept death because i am afraid of life

but i once heard that any man who accepts death...is already dead

inspiration?

i spoke to a friend today, a woman of older age. she has told me something that i find most interesting about myself. she told me that i inspire her. she told me that i inspire many and that i leave a great lasting effect on many people. she told me that though my situation may not be the best one to be in, that i still manage to make people laugh, smile and show them a livelier side of life. i install these inspiring thoughts into the minds of those i touch. i inspire those who have dropped talents, to pick them back up. i inspire those who have lost hope to maintain focus. i inspire those who wish to die, to live.
this woman told me i was an inspiration. and as the day progressed i heard many times how i have inspired others from others.

i thought lightly of it but it made my day. it helped me to ease my mind of earlier occurring events that had me in a state of mental turmoil.

then later, i received a message on myspace with the subject "you inspired me". it was random but sat heavy on my brain.

could i really inspire people? is that my latent ability?

still, the real question is, if i can inspire so many to write, to love, to work, to keep going, to smile, to live...why am i so uninspired to do those last three?

my father's son

i am not too happy that i have this title, that i am the second Tarrance Bernard Foster. But i am. and each day i see it more and more. each day, i watch myself become more of that man. the woman he fucked and birthed me too often mentions the visual resemblance and has alluded to the same on a mental state. i see this as well.
and it pisses me of. a response he, too, would have. if my channeled anger could ever be matched, it is by him. i remember many a night the two of us riding to nowhere in his Chevy Suburban, him with a beer in his hand, playing another Tupac album and reminding his only son of how its just him in the world. how he knew i hated him even before i did. how everything he had was going to be in my name. how much he loved me.
years ago...i did love this man. i idolized him. but even a young soul can only withstand so much. there was a fine line between love and hate. he erased it and forced me to draw my own boarders. sadly, no person, after that day, could find that line. no person could cross what they couldnt see. no person knew of my love and i cared not for theirs.

this man is trying to regain access to my life. with nowhere to turn, i am forced to grant him his desire. many tell me that it might be a good decision. i have my doubts.

but i see him. i feel him in me. daily i want to taste alcohol until i forget all of my troubles. i hear his angry voice inside my head. i spat words of hate as though i a fluent in the language of disdain. i see his burning hazel eyes. i look in the mirror and see him...his hairless face stares at me until i can no longer look.

i am not fond of this man. and still i am his junior. his names keeps me near to him. and she wants to name our son the same...if i cannot change the legacy then he, too, will feel this hatred. the hatred of a father's son

hurricane season

i believe i love this time of year. the beginning of the academic year. when it is still hot enough to wear shorts and beaters to the pool but often windy enough to don a hoodie. it is often gloomy, grey clouds, light showers, thunderstorms. fitting of my personality, sadly. i have come to the conclusion that i am something of an "emo". i often wear black, i walk alone more so than with a group, my favorite songs are somber ones, "hate" rolls off my tongue like "love" should and i prefer darkness to light (i am only a few nerves short of cutting myself).

i dont think im happy. im not sure what all happiness consist of, but i'm pretty sure it lacks in my life. she remedies that, but only for short periods of time (which are now shorter cause shes gone). i even believe that my unhappiness is spilling over effecting my relationship. sometimes i need an escape, and no longer can she provide that for me. between her friends, social life and school work, i find little area to squeeze my hoggish ways into her life. i may text to receive a response many minuets or hours later when i forget the initial text in the first place. i choose not to bring this to her attention for i wish not to seem too...greedy. she has her own life and must live it. thus, i must do the same.

this is possibly a call to arms. a poem rings over and over in my head, to remind me of my refusal to be defeated.
"thank whatever gods may be for his unconquerable soul [...] though my head may be bloody it remains unbowed"

i do not enjoy my life. each day i let death know that i am ready. each day i wish i was elsewhere. each day i curse this life. each morning i curse my mother, who lays her hand on me as though she cares, for this life. each day, i curse myself for allowing myself to become a failure. each day...each and every fucking day i remember how much i hate this life.

and more sadly than knowing that i hate this life is knowing that i have to continue to live it.
that is my truth. i must live this out...i must remain on this island until hurricane season ceases.

13th day

the day marking the official start of my depression. my life had begun to fall apart thirteen days ago and i watched it. the enforcement of a ten o'clock curfew, the threat of being put out, the departure of my girlfriend and escape, the departure of my bestfriend and the reappearance of my "father".

i tried to escape it all. to push it back into a place in my head where nothing really matters. but like a unruly bastard child, it refused to stay put.
as a final attempt to keep depression at bay, i went into downtown Atlanta to look for a job. to at least try and show my "mother" (who shall be referred to as mrs.moore) that i was trying. dressed in slacks, shirt and tie i walked all of corporate Atlanta. asking banks, restaurants, inns, hotels and motels alike if they were hiring. none were, and if i was lucky enough to find a place that said they were, i had to return home to fill out the application online.

sitting on a bench realizing that my entire trip, that my sore feet, sweaty back, headache, aching knees and hunger were all for nothing, i allowed myself to succumb to the omen of my thirteenth day. needing motivation, i texted my girlfriend and waited. no response. i remembered that she was driving to mississippi that day and probably didnt realize her phone rang. i felt defeated.

i walked more under the blazing sun, hearing nothing but rejection. eventually my tired feet stopped listening to where my brain told them to go. they lead me to georgia state university. knowing that i have a few friends attending that college, i began to text them. i met up with people who used to make me laugh and feel good about myself.
Imari who i used to always disagree with on everything from racial issues to good music to women. we could never find a medium but our differences made us best of friends. she would often help me with my female problems as i did the same for her.
Amber who was better known as "Killa Amb" and was even more known for her offbeat humor. there was a unknown connection that we shared. a sense of humor that only quick minds could keep up with. we both were always laughing at something that probably wasnt funny.
Brittany who was considered by the school to be my 11th grade girlfriend, though we hardly dated. still good friends, we shared many a laugh (most of which were derived from stories about the other).
Ashley, someone i met through a mutual friend but having never seen until recently. most of out "talking" was done through text messaging. and still we found a connection.
all of these people helped me forget the troubles of my world.
having walked for ten hours, killa invited me to see her room where we ate apple sauce and watched tv.

upon my departure from gsu, i decided that maybe i could spend my next few years of college there. i tried to crunch the numbers in my head and concluded that i could afford it and still have plenty to eat. with a part-time job i could pay to get my own cell phone in order to complete my escape from the moore family. depression begun its lift as i found a slimmer of hope.

i rode home with my mother who complained about having to pick me up from a certain spot although she had been in her spacious and air conditioned office all day whereas i was outside in the 90 degree weather. walking the hour back to her job was physically impossible at this point.

i long for the day that the owners of this home will come home and live their lives as usual expecting me to be home at ten. i yearn for the moment where i can vanish from the face of the earth without them knowing where or how to find me. i desire for the year that i will randomly mail them a wedding invitation after so many years of not being heard from.

oh how i want escape.
as depression and emptiness roll on, i am attempting to pull myself out of this hole. by the end of this month, something will have happened. either i will be attempting to enroll in school, i will have a job and be working towards an apartment, i will be living with Tarrance sr or i will have enlisted in the military.
those are my escape routes and in ten days, one will have been used.