yes.

i feel the need to say something to you.

no, dear love, i do not hate you.

you were there when i needed you and that is something i can never forget.

but we have grown.

i, into more of myself.

and you, into more of your own entity.

but we have grown possibly apart.

this doesn't mean my love for you has faded

nor does it make my longing for you any easier

but i cannot have you in the ways i wish

due to our roadblock named "distance"

sigh.

but as you enjoy your freedom of me

as you lavish in the world without my constant pessimistic voice

i know you have enjoyed our time apart.

thus i must admit,

in my growth, i have grown to enjoy my solitude

long days in my room

meditation

music

a pen

and pad.

i wont say i no longer need you

but i will confess that i will live without you if ever we shall part for good.

do not take this letter as a goodbye

or take its contents and confuse them with "he love me not"s.

for neither are the case. you have my heart. and my thoughts.

oh dear blog, how it pains me to say these words to you.

but, once again, i must bid thee adieu.

adieu.

-your once avid blogger.

pushed in a freezing pool of water.

i had a dream.

well two. 

1.i was in a horrible car accident. knocked off the highest level of a building and fell to what should have been my death. out of three people...only i lived.

i guess its interpretation could be how i live through  things far out of my control.

but.

2. i walked with who seemed to be a professor to some kind of meeting. we get there and it seemed like i was some sort of great mind that many listen to. so as we are leaving i realize how cold it is. freezing in the London town. so cold, in fact, that there are frozen puddles of water in the street. some of which aren't frozen solid but have large blocks of ice floating in them.

the british man i was walking with pushes me in one. but my heavy jackets and snowpants keep me from hypothermia. i look back at the man and he stands nude in front of me and jumps in.

our conversation begins.

i soon wake up having all the answers to the problems that troubled me.

i asked what might the subliminal message had been.

a friend told me that the dream was telling me to relinquish my need for security (my jacket).

there was nothing i could do after my push into the pool so why fight it.?

there is nothing i can do to undo my troubles in life...so why am i fighting.?

the words "cease struggle" replay in my mind.

i have. or will, rather.

somethings i want to happen more than likely wont.

things that i dont want to happen are definitely going to

and i cant control neither.

so i'm going to enjoy my dip into deathly waters.

and thus far, it looks like i'm gonna have to enjoy them alone.

change of p.o.v

i wake up every morning with the sun beaming on my face.

i reach out next to me, no one is there. my eyes open to the white brick wall in front of me.

check my phone. its still early, no text. no missed calls.

i roll over. my reflection stares back at me. our eyes meet.

its a sad story.

they're full of many emotions. 

the flame..the ambition that used to run me. the dancing fire that used to live in my eyes has died.

the unhappiness usually swells and festers for hours. i fall back asleep and wake up sometime after noon. i find a few "good mornings" and maybe a facebook message.

then, most of my day is spent in solitude. 

the night is spent the same. maybe a phone call here or there. 

but mostly, somber movies ease me to sleep.

all to wake up and do the same nothing all over again.

the point of this entry shares the same point of my life currently: none.

realism.

tarrance sits and recaps on a conversation with his bestfriend.

he recalls the hurtful but very true words of this ever wise and ever rational person.

"tarrance, you have to see things as they are. take your damn shades off and stop seeing the world in a darker tint BUT keep everything in perspective. realistically, most things wont go your way. realistically, people are going to hurt you, disappoint you, and kill you on the inside. you know this. so why the hell are you so surprised when it keeps happening.? records show where the majority of your pain comes from. records show that you keep opening yourself up to it. look, its ok to let people in. its ok to be human. but only a fool makes the same mistake multiple times. you're a fool. a damned fool at that. i'm not telling you to let anyone go. but i am telling you that if you keep certain people around, they will...i repeat, they WILL hurt you yet again. lets be frank here my nigga: if she wanted you like she says, she'd have you. if she loved you like she says, you wouldn't have to question it. and, simply put, things will clearly NEVER be as they once were. hell, you two probably wont get back together. so why set yourself up for the okedoke...again.? stop being a dumbass. wake up. she doesnt want you. period. stop being a pessimist with words and a optimist with actions. you're causing your own demise. remain netural, step back, analyze the situation and understand your position. you're the old anomaly in her fresh new life. you're old news to be tossed in the wind like a read newspaper. in the year of Obama, you're 9-11. still monumental but not to be dwelled upon. understand.?"

he understood.

so, yet again, he has undergone change. 

not for anyone but himself.

self preservation is his goal now. the virtue of selfishness as Ayn Rynd taught him.

and his mentality, neutral. 

how else is he to live.?

thus, he embarks on a journey of realism.

in other news, he has begun his book.

it was somewhat post-poned because he didnt know how it would end.

and now, sadly, he does.

it is a bittersweet occasion. he only hopes that his pain can translate into dollar signs.

the filler.

a flustered tarrance sits and thinks to himself late one night, 

"you dont need me. you say you do but the truth is...i'm just an extra in your black book.

if i were to disappear you'd miss me for a while. possibly cry. but we both know its what you want. what do you want.? its not me. it never really was. no matter what you say. me as a person. nah. maybe the smug emotions i have to offer. maybe the soul i so willingly bare. but not me. not Tarrance Bernard Foster II. and in due time, you'll prove to yourself how right i was. how right i've always been. its only a matter of time until you can find someone else to keep your attention. a few weeks. a month maybe. all the while you drag me along on this horrible and annoying ride. and as you've known me to wait before, i dont think my clock is on pause anymore."

he grimaces with disgust and walks away from his mirror

though...it wasn't his own face he stared at. 

search begins.

Tarrance sits in a booth in chick-fil-a.

he festers on his loneliness. his hermit life.

he hates it. but he lives it.

he realizes that hes sick of posting the same thing reworded.

so he continues to put off his duties towards his blog.

he searches for a new outlook on life.

he searches for a reason to smile.

he searches for company.

he searches for companionship. 

he searches for the purpose behind his endlessly troublesome life.

depression session.

it was something our young blogger had grown used to doing: waking up and not finding any motivation to move.
so he didnt. he rolled around in his new room all day.

instantly, he knew what this was. and he knew he couldn't fight it.
he searched his phone desperately for a savior..but they had all gone on with their lives.
lives to be lived without him. lives where his value would slowly dwindle.

he was at the mercy of his depression.
and he had to face it; alone.
he became so desperate that he grabbed something he hadnt touched in over a year: a tv remote.
old cartoons entertained him. x-men. 2 stupid dogs. swat kats. static shock. avatar.
for hours he numbed himself by means of this idiot box.

it was 9.37 at night and the bottoms of Tarrance's feet hadnt even touched the ground so he decided to change that.
the sun had risen and fallen by now and everything was dark. yet, he managed to stumble into the kitchen to salvage week old chinese food. after nearly gagging to death, he tossed the food and returned to his bed making a pitstop in the bathroom.

he looked into the mirror. he saw a face he recognized.
stale. cold. angry. numb. sad.
he knew why his face betrayed these emotions. before, he couldnt tell.
but now he knew and he planned to do something about it. hiding his emotions had already become second nature, he realized after seeing Shanika for the last time and not shedding a tear.

he had changed. but it was necessary to live the life he has.
he wondered if anyone would understand. if anyone would see beyond their own selfishness to care. if he could see beyond his own selfishness to change back.

the recovering failure dressed himself.
true religion jeans. v-neck shirt. nike blazers. shades.
he drove around the corner to the club "figure 8".
a place he despised but almost gravitated to. there was no line...he walked right in.

it was packed. hot. musty. coon music. he grimaced to himself.
he saw bitches bent over. picked up. screaming. laughing. drinking. smoking.
he saw niggas bending bitches over. standing behind them. enjoying themselves.
nothing interested him. not even the music. standing with folded arms amidst a swarming crowd, he attracted more than the attention he wanted.
bitches bent over in front of him. thongs showing. tits out. he wasn't impressed.

"oh, you gay huh?" one ass showing female asked him.
"no. i just dont think i'd like to dance with you." he responded calmly.
"huh. speak up nigga its loud in here."
he laughed at her. she was a decent looking female. nice body pratically naked. cleavage. thigh. stomach. she bagan to jump to the song playing in the background. her tits tried to keep up.

"and she wants to be respected. every male in this club only want to put his dick on her and touch her, but she wants respect. respect this hoe, tarrance. respect her." he looked at her face and not her body. "foolish. i bet she think shes sexy. you dont have to be naked to be sexy dumbass. cover yourself up. leave some mystery. what the hell am i gonna buy a whopper for if i can have half of it now.? you're not sexy broad. sit down." he shook his head at her while thinking these thoughts.

"what chu shakin yo head for.? you dont like this song.?"
"no. i dont."
"fuck wrong with you.? how you not like gucci and oj.?"
"easy."
"ugh. goodbye."
"i never said hello."
she walked off. her ass followed.
"this is why i hate the club," he reminded himself. he left.

driving. he reminded himself of the past two weeks. why he was angry with people. why he hated them. and he didnt have the energy to hate them or forgive them. he was indifferent about everything.
"will it work.? why did she...? the fuck was she thinking...? why would he? i wonder...? i didnt mean to...but. what if...how could..."
but every question he could ask himself ended with the same answer: "does it matter now.? does my anger, or sorrow, or regret, or anguish.? fuck it."

he realized he wasnt over things he claimed he was.
he realized he was still very angry.
he realized he was hurt.
he realized he was jealous.
he realized he was sad.

but he didnt care.
and his depression session began to end.