“Swim or Die”

The subway ride from the Bronx to Brighton Beach was a bitch. Actually it was three bitches. I was with my girlfriend Laura, her grandmother and her gothic fashion wearing sister Barbara. Not only did I have to carry all the beach chairs, bags and a plastic ice cooler filled with shit, but all three were tag teaming me with nonstop verbal abuse. They were angry with me because I failed them. At eighteen, I worked hard to achieve a pending Cooper Union scholarship for the following year.  I had a good paying job as a doorman in Sutton Place and I was their main problem solver in life. I couldn’t do any wrong until that prior January. Laura and I were supposed to marry and security should have been virtually guaranteed to her for the rest of her life. Instead, I ended up being out on bail, waiting to be sentenced to 5 to 15 years. I failed them, but most importantly, I failed myself. I was depressed and hopeless. Why was I letting myself be put through this?  I had to remind myself that I couldn’t return to Washington Heights because I probably wouldn’t last two hours before I was laid out, drenched in my own blood on Saint Nicholas Avenue under the July sun with my eyelids permanently shut. I messsed up. I messed up bad.

What would I have done without Josie? I was a long lost friend to misery and despair. I had some good years filled with some fun, adventurous times and I was sure the worst was over. Nah sucker, life laughed at me. But as harsh as life could be to me, it was always sure to be as compassionate enough to provide me with at least one angel to help me get through the hard times. Josie’s company was the absolutely only thing I had that was worth waking up for these days. I knew her for all of two weeks, but I had a genuine love in my heart for her. I never appreciated someone before like I did Josie. She had become my most important angel ever.

Weeks earlier, I was combing the shore at Brighton Beach, feeling sorry for myself and counting the days till judgment day when I saw Josie on her hands and knees on the sand as waves washed up on her. Her head was down. The sight of her peaked my curiosity. What the hell is wrong with this girl?  I thought that she looked crazy. She threw up liquid and bile. Ahhh! Nasty bitch!  I continued to stare at her wondering what she was fucked up on. She looked up directly at me. She was cute with Hazel colored eyes and dimples and straight sandy brown hair.  She smiled and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her smile was contagious.

I drank too much vodka and orange juice. I’m fucked up. She informed me.

I couldn’t help but smile even more.

I didn’t noticed. I said, pretending that she was not throwing up in the ocean.

Yeah dude, can’t you see? What the hell is wrong with you?  She laughed hysterically.

I didn’t remember the last time I laughed before this. I instantly felt lighter and fell for her.

We got her cleaned up in the Parks Department restroom and I rode with her to Rego Park, Queens on the subway. It was a nice long ride, perfect for getting to know such a pretty, crazy stranger. She became more and more beautiful to me with each stop that passed.

Why are you so sad? She asked.

You can tell? I asked genuinely surprised.

Dude, you’re a fucking mess. Come on, hon. Tell me what’s wrong.

I looked at her. Her eyes were safe. She grabbed my thigh and squeezed. It felt nice. She looked me in the eyes.

You can tell me.

Well, in about three and a half weeks, I’m going to prison for 15 years.

15 years???? Holy shit!  Who did you kill?

I didn’t kill anybody. I’ll be eligible for parole in 5.

Still. That’s a long time.

I know. I was only 13 years old 5 years ago. That seemed so long ago.

I pondered the thought. My stomach turned on me and my eyes watered.

Josie reached to hug me. Tears flooded out my eyes. She held my head across her chest and caressed my hair. The train rumbled on for the next half hour as I let out what felt like years of tears, not caring who saw me. I didn’t want to be with anybody but her. It was the first time I ever experienced wanting to be with such a beautiful girl just because I wanted to be with her and not because I wanted to have sex with her. 

We got to her stop and made plans to meet the following day. I rode two hours to Hunts Point feeling the happiest I’ve felt since that January 18th of 1988. Finally somebody cared. I returned home to Laura’s grandmother house to a living room full of glares. Laura and I barely spoke to each other except when we were having angry, violent sex. What did I do to my life was a permanent thought stuck in my head.

The train pulled into Brighton Beach. I carried everything with the three Puerto Rican yentas talking shit behind me, calling me all sorts of putas, carbrons and maricons. The grandmother was yapping the most. Enough was fucking enough. I looked back at Laura and glared at her with arched eyebrows.

Tell that old Chihuahua bitch to shut the fuck up already!

Laura’s grandmother, although in the United States for over forty years didn’t understand or speak a lick of English.

Que? Que? She added another carbron to the sentence that I made out.

Fuck you, jailbird! Don’t you call my grandmother a bitch! Your aunt’s a freaking bitch! Laura yelled at me in front of staring passengers.

I nodded my head. That’s cool. I got something for you. I threaten her.

Laura’s grandmother was a newly recovering alcoholic that was sober for an entire three weeks. I knew something about alcoholism from my own childhood experiences and knew that the grandmother didn’t make a very good one. It was Laura’s dream come true see the old lady sober for this long. It gave her hope that she was cured for once and for all. Personally, I didn’t think one more relapse was such a big deal.

I chose a spot to camp out. I dropped everything. The girls immediately protested.

Who the hell said we were going lay out here? Laura asked while Barbara explained to the grandmother something in Spanish.

Where you think you going, jailbird! Laura shouted after me.

Fuck you! I said without looking back as I headed back towards the boardwalk.

A fat, older Russian lady made a face at me.

Fuck you too!

I returned carrying a brown paperback that was breaking at the bottom because of the combination of ice and the ice-cold cans that it held. By the time I arrived, Laura and family were either sitting on a beach chair or laid out on a cheap sheet that was so worn out that you could barely make out the floral pattern. I was looking forward to seeing Barbara in a bathing suit or even better, a bikini. She had little breasts but had an even better ass than Laura. She was sitting up on the sheet fully dressed in black.

Aren’t you hot, Barb?

She saw a can of Budweiser exposed through the ripping bag.

You know, you’re a real fucking asshole?

What? I forged innocence.

Then Laura saw the beer. You motherfucker! I hate you.

I hate you too bitch. I’m not even in jail yet and you’re already playing me out left and right.

I told you. I’m only with you until you go in, but it’s over! Over! What do you not understand? What I do is my business.

I understand everything clearly. And what I do is my business. If I want to have a beer, I’ll have a beer. I can’t help it if your grandmother’s a drunk bitch.

I snatched a can of Bud off the plastic ring that contained the six-pack and guzzled a can.

Mommi! I offered the old nag a Budweiser.

The stupid old lady looked at me.

Que?

Cervesa fria. It’s bueno. Mucho bueno. I held out a beer to her.  She stared at it with thirsty eyes.

No! no. no. The old lady declined without much conviction.

Good Mommie. Laura praised her and gave a kiss on her forehead.

Okay. It’s on you.

I snapped open the ring off another can and took gulped down half the can in one shot.

AHHHHH! I smiled at the old lady. That shit is good. Muho bueno! She gave me a dirty look.

I packed my two six packs in ice inside the plastic cooler.

You didn’t even buy us anything to eat and drink, you fucking jerk?

Why would I?

You know what? I don’t want you in my house anymore.

I don’t want to be in your house.

Where you gonna go? Huh, asshole?

I’ll go to West’s house. I don’t need you.

Fuck you and West!

Fuck you, you nasty whore. I really can’t believe this is how you turned out to me.

Hey don’t talk to my sister like that! It was a rare moment when Barbara stood up for Laura. The two regularly fought like two alley cats in heat over a Tomcat.

You didn’t say that when I was fucking you. I lied as I finished my second can of Bud in another gulp.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing!

I looked at Laura.

Believe it. And I can prove it. She has this ugly fuzzy ass birthmark next to the crack of her ass. I couldn’t stop staring at it when I was fucking her from behind. It looks like a map of Colorado.

Laura opened her mouth in shock, not remembering that she provided me with this bit of information one night when she was talking drunken shit about her sister.

Barbara looked confused.

You must have been spying on me sometime you pervert!

Come on, you slut! Don’t try to play it off now.

Que? The grandmother wanted to know what was going on in Spanish, at the same time, eyeing my beer like the old ugly ass buzzard that she was.

I couldn’t keep up with Laura and Barbara’s war of words. I took my beer to the shore and walked as I thought about how I couldn’t wait to see Josie that night. Her parents would be away for the weekend and I was going to be able to sleep over for the first time. The sexual tension that we built up was crazy. I got aroused thinking about it.

While Laura and I only spoke during sex, we got into the habit of biting and choking one another aggressively. We had fresh bite wounds and bruises on the both of us daily. I was concerned that I could end up with a Robert Chambers like case on top of my own case.

I went back for more beer. The two sisters were giving each other the silent treatment by this time. The grandmother kept continually looking at the beer, looking away, only to look back again.

I cracked another beer and looked at her.

Are you sure?  Uno! It’s okay. I waited for her to break.

She snatched the beer from my hand like a starving third world child. She opened it and held the can with both hands. I suspect so Laura and I couldn’t easily take it away from her.

Laura and Barbara were too beside themselves to care. I helped provide for this family since the day I met Laura and they were one of the first people to turn their backs on me. I felt I deserved to have some fun at their expense.

Hey Barb, now that Laura knows, and we don’t have to hide, what’s up for tonight?

You’re a fucking liar!

No he’s not. You fucked Jonathon! Laura yelled at her.

That was different! You two broke up.

For not even one whole week you fucking slut!

Slut! I’m not the one who got caught sucking dick in the fifth grade!

Laura looked at me, for reaction. I was a pro when it came to playing nonchalant when necessary.

I mean you sucked my dick mad fast so it’s not the most shocking thing I ever heard. Check it out, since we’re all family here, and we all know what I’m about. And we definitely know what you two hoes are about.  Why don’t we get down with a ménage together. Come on, it’ll be fun. We can videotape it and make some money.

Assholes! I fucking hate you both. Laura addressed Barbara and I.

I cracked another beer. The old bitch’s head was already wobbling around. She took another gulp and burped. I passed her another one.

Don’t! Barbara snapped at me. She tried to take the beer away from the old lady but she held it close to her chest with her two hands.

Puta NO! She hissed at Barbara. She took a cat like swipe at Barbara.

Oh shit! Now she’s a cat! I laughed.

I sat on the ice cooler in my swim trunks, drinking and sharing my beer with the old lady. I felt my own head starting to wobble around under the sun. Whoa! I’m getting fucked up. I thought to myself.

Laura’s grandmother struggled to assume a squat position. What the hell? Then the old lady peed right though her royal blue knee length shorts and onto the cheap sheet. I got up, laughing until I had a snitch on my side.. I had to take a leak myself. I got up and wobbled/walked to the shore.

I was going crazy in my own drunken head.  Fuck those bitches. As a matter of fact, fuck everybody. I’m gonna do my time and come out and be the baddest motherfucker in the world! I pepped talk myself.

They don’t know me. I’m a warrior. I’m like Conan the Barbarian out this motherfucker!

I visualized Arnold as Conan chopping other barbarians up. I remember sneaking into the R.K.O. everyday when I was kid to see the film. It was my favorite movie at the time.

Yeah, I told myself, I’m going go to jail and get jacked the fuck up like Arnold.

I checked out my19 year old physique, flexing a bicep for myself. Not bad, I thought. But by the time I get out, shit’s gonna be crazy like POW! Then fuck you Laura! I’m gonna have so many better bitches than you. I laughed crazily to myself, unconerned with who was watching.

I made it to the shore and looked out at the vast, endless ocean. I saw a ship in the far, far distance.

Fuck you too! I told the ocean.

A freezing wave splashed on me. Brrrrrrrr! I jumped back quickly.

You wanna diss me too? I’ll swim the fuck out of you.

Another wave slapped me on my shins and knees. It was just as cold.

Yeah, I’ll swim you to Afri-CA and back!

I ran into the ocean and dived headfirst into the cold, unforgiving water. I peed and swam and swam. My body adjusted quickly to the temperature. I visualized myself as Tarzan when he dived off the George Washington Bridge and swam the Hudson River in the 30’s.

I saw my shoulder muscles glisten with each lap, motivating the next lap.

I was five years old when I learned out to swim. My cousins use to take me to sneak in to High Bridge, the city pool at night. They used to get fucked up on Brandy, wine and beer along with coke and weed.  My twenty year old cousin Antonio threw me in the 16 feet deep end of the pool. Everybody was too fucked up to notice or were too busy cracking up at me flapping my little arms away, screaming my head. By chance, I learned that kicking my legs would keep me a float. I imitated Tarzan and made it to the edge of the pool where I hung on for dear life. I wasn’t strong enough to pull myself up and nobody was about to help me. So while I still held on to the edge, I kicked and imitated Tarzan and worked my way to the shallow end of the pool. Too caught up on pretending to be Johnny Weissmuller to be afraid, I waded my way through the pool to a depth I was comfortable with and taught myself to swim. 

And here I was drunk and still believing I was Tarzan. I swam and swam, proud that I was able to swim for so long a distance. I was tiring but I felt the need to challenge myself and win. I was failing at everything else in life. This ocean was not going to defeat me.

I stopped to catch my breath, floating by kicking my legs. I was in the middle of the ocean, well at least two city blocks from the shore, but it felt like the middle of nowhere. The people on the crowded city beach looked like ants. This is so fucking cool! I thought to myself. Once I caught my breath, I decided that it was time to swim back to the shore. I was sobering up and thinking a bit clearer now. I started to swim and within minutes I realized that I wasn’t making any progress. The current was pushing me out farther to the sea. I continued on, trying different strokes. The more I swim med, the farther back I was pushed into the ocean. No wonder it was so easy to swim so far out, I thought.

Shit! This isn’t cool! This isn’t cool at all. I thought to myself. I kept on and on and on, not getting any closer to shore. My muscles started to burn with lactic acid. Don’t panic. I thought to myself. I stopped to float, kicking my legs, but even they were beginning to fry along with my calves. I kept swallowing seawater as I gasped for oxygen. I tried to swim. You can do this, Vincent. It’s not that far. I tried to convince myself, trying to remain positive even though I knew I was fucked up in the game. Then my stomach cramped. It felt like someone was jabbing it with a knife all over my side. I couldn’t kick anymore. My arms went limp. I went under and under and under. I kept my eyes open, observing the olive green liquid environment that I was stranger to.

Damm! So this is how the story ends. What a whack way to go out! I thought to myself. I’m actually drowning. I’m drowning to death. I couldn’t believe it.  I could see the light from the sky on the sea’s surface as I was moving farther and farther away from it. The surface became darker and darker. My lungs felt tight. I felt pressure inside my head from lack of oxygen. Then I got angry. This what I lived and suffered for? You fucking asshole! This is how you’re going to go out, you drunken fool? Fuck that shit!

I kicked my legs and looked up towards the surfaces light. I slapped the water out of my way with cupped hands. You’re strong! You can do this. The surface was so far away. Everything burned. The stabbing pains returned more intensely. Swim through it you fucking faggot! The surface became lighter and lighter. My head broke through the surface. Air never felt so good to me. I couldn’t get enough of it. My whole body was in fire. I heard the faint sound of a whistle. It wouldn’t stop blowing. Help me, please! I continued to try and swim back to shore, but within the minute my body just gave out on me. I couldn’t move my arms. I couldn’t move my legs. The invisible knife was stabbing me everywhere in my abdominal region. Then one big invisible hand took my ribs, spleen and guts band twisted them and twisted them and twisted them. I screamed in agony.

You managed to escape death so many times, you arrogant piece of shit! What the fuck are you going to do now? This is it. This is really it. I felt sad and as sad as I felt, I couldn’t shed any tears for myself because I did this to myself. Just let it go, Vincent. It’s okay.

I went down again. My face was facing the surface once again. That’s right. Just let go. See how peaceful this is? The sunlight on the surface was pretty, so was the seaweed floating around me. The lack of oxygen contradicted what I was trying to convince myself of. Drowning isn’t peaceful you crazy motherfucker! What the hell are you talking about?

As painful as it was, I kicked my legs; I looked up and paddled my arms. They were burning, but no matter what, life was too good to just let go. Come on Vincent, you can do it. You’re not a dick. You’re not an asshole. You’re not a stupid motherfucker. And you’ll prove it. You just have to fight. Fight. Please!

I made it to the surface. I couldn’t suk in air fast enough. I heard the tweeting of the lifeguards whistle, but the people on the beach still looked like ants to me. I was on fire in water. I was in so much trouble and I knew it so very well. How was the lifeguard going to get me? Impossible! I’ve done so many stupid things in my life, but this had to be the stupidest of all things. The thing I just might not come back from. Against my will, my body went down again for the final time. The tears I shed became one with the salt water becoming the final metaphor for my bitter life. I always felt my soul didn’t deserve what my physical represented. I always believed I was better, but I guess I really wasn’t.

Again I sunk towards the bottom of the ocean, letting the light fade darker and darker away from me. I couldn’t breathe and my lungs constricted tighter and tighter as I fought for oxygen that didn’t exist. A grey fish swam past me, confirming that I was as low as I’ve ever been.

Surrender. That’s all that’s left to do. Give it up. Olive green faded to murky brown. This was it. You did all that you can do. It just wasn’t enough. Vincent.

I let my eyelids close and I surrendered to death when all of a sudden.

Holy shit!!!! Josie! She would be waiting for me tonight! We were going to make love for the first time.

I visualized Josie smiling and teasing me. She was always making fun of me, making me laugh at myself. Her sandy brown hair flipped over her left eye. I could see the dimples that formed on her cheeks every time she smiled at me. She hugged me tight every hour on the hour. At 24 years old, she was too way too sophisticated to be in love with me, but on a human level, nobody had ever loved me more. I couldn’t let her down. Hell no! Josie would not cry because of me, not if I could help it.

I got pissed off.  I felt the adrenalin surging through me once again, kicking the shit out of any lactic acid that could ever try to stop me.

It’s not ending like this. Are you fucking crazy?

I kicked stronger, my shoulders and arms could not be stopped as I pushed the ocean out of my way. Fuck you! Don’t you know who the fuck I am? Psycho-Love Tc5!

Seawater flooded my nostrils, but I didn’t care. I told you that I was a fucking warrior! My whole body was on fire, but I was too pissed to give a shit. The ocean tried to wrap its translucent arms around me and cradle me to death but my own tired arms broke free. Get the fuck out of here! I swam up towards the light, my muscles burning on fire. I came up and found air. Air sweet air! BAP! Something hit me on my head. 

What the-? Before I knew it, I was being pulled in to a boat by the back of my shorts. Two lifeguards hovered over me, an intense blonde female life guard pumping as hard as she could on my chest. The ocean’s salty water splashed out my mouth. The male lifeguard held up three fingers that I was able to identify.

I lay exhausted, sucking all the air that I could, looking up at the cloudless sky as the boat speeded back to shore. I sat up and threw more water and was treated to the sight of Laura and her family. Her grandmother cussing me out again in her perfectly round pee stained royal blue shorts.

Pu-TA! Mari-CON!

Laura chirped in. This is so fucking embarrassing! You jerk!

I was wiped out. I just looked at them in disgust. Barbara had her arms folded, shaking her head, judgmentally. I couldn’t respond. Even though I sobered up, I wobbled my way to the cheap sheet. The sand felt extra heavy and my legs and knees felt weak. I picked my folded clothes. Laura yelled behind me. Where the hell you going? Fuck off was all I could think.

Before I reached the boardwalk I was treated to a friendly face.

Yo Psycho! What’s up?

Kenny!

It was so good to see my boy, the legendary Prince Ken Swift from the world famous Rock Steady Crew. In my professional opinion, Kenny was the world’s greatest break-dancer. In fact, he was the template for the original B-Boy. While Crazy Legs was the president of Rock Steady, it was the charm and charisma of Ken Swift, Doze and Frosty Freeze that made me ever want to be down with Rock Steady. I always felt honored in his presence. Not only did he have a nice beach blanket, but also he had about four hot Latin chicks with him. He introduced.

This is my boy Psycho. He does graffiti. He’s down with Doze and Seen. They smiled at me. Damn Kenny, I thought. This is how you do it? Word! He invited me to chill with him and his lady friends. I was consumed with Josie on my mind and politely declined. I spared him the details of my day at the beach and gave him a hug and continued on.

I walked out the elevator in Josie’s building, cleaned up. I heard the music already. “BREAK! For Loooove!” Josie was obsessed with the song and looped it song nonstop continuously. Sometimes she would play Dee-Lite on occasion.  She waited for me by her door. This was the first time I seen her with make up and curly hair. She was hotter than I could ever imagine. She wore a white wife beater and white cotton panties. I could see through them at the mound of her vagina. My heart speeded and I got nervous.  We embraced tight. Her skin felt smooth, soft and flawless. She smelled fresh and clean. I liked the freckles on her shoulders. Our bodies pressed against each other tightly. My penis grew hard against her. I wasn’t wearing underwear as not to constrict anything. Our loins were warm and full of energy.

Oh Baby, she purred so sweetly. I missed you. She looked at me with her mesmerizing Hazel eyes.

I miss you too baby. I miss you so much. We kissed, sucking on each other’s tongues and lips. I bit her soft lower lip so gently and sucked it.

Come on. She grabbed my hand, locked the door and guided me to her room. I nuzzled her neck with my nose and kissed her all over, nibbling here and there.

You know I love you so much. You know that? Right?

She nodded bashfully. I think so.

Don’t think so! Know so. I fucking love you. I don’t know what I would have done if I haven’t met you.

Continue being depressed and miserable until you got locked up. She teased.

We hugged. I caressed her breasts through the cotton she wore. Her nipples grew erect. They were perfectly rounded and protruded with goosebumps around aerola. I licked and sucked through the shirt. I was able to make them out, as the shirt got wetter with my saliva. They were a rosy pink. I brought myself to my knees, kissing and nibbling her tummy, hips and thighs on my way down.

I could kiss you for the rest of my life. You’re so fucking beautiful. How did I get you? I can’t understand it. It’s like…like…like a miracle!

She giggled her sweet little girl laugh that never failed to drive me crazy.

You’re beautiful too. You’re really are. She told me.

Thank you, Baby. I nuzzled my face all over her pussy area. And I licked and sucked on her fat, puffy lips. Oh my God! I thought as I sucked on one fat lip through her panties. She shivered and moaned and grabbed locks of my hair.

Oh my God! She almost yelled.

I spread her legs and licked and sucked as deep as I could through her panties. I turned her around and pulled off her panties.

Take these off now.

She did.

Bend over and lean on your bed.

I stared at her great heart shaped ass. Fuck!

You have like the best ass in the world!

You like it?

Do I like it? Are you crazy?

I smashed my face into the crack, licking like a man possessed. I spread her cheeks open and twirled my tongue around her pretty ass. I licked round and round, circling in until my mouth was all over her hole. She moaned in pleasure.

Papi, you shouldn’t be doing that!

Shut up.

I continued loving her ass with my mouth. Biting it and sucking it.

I stood up. Jesus fucking Christ! I hugged her tight and we kissed some more.

Papi.

Huh, Baby?

I want to suck your dick. I want to suck your dick really bad.

She fondled it through my jeans. I unbuttoned and let it spring out, rock hard, flooded with blood.

Wow Papi, you have a really nice dick. Lay on the bed.

I took off my shirt and socks and obeyed her. She looked me in the eyes as she nibbled my inner thighs. She licked up the shaft of my cock.

Mmmmmmm, she groaned.

Bite it, Baby.

Bite it?

Bite the head, not too hard but not too soft either.

She bit perfectly and tugged it around. I put a pillow over my face to muffle the noises I made. I felt the warm inside of her mouth suck on me slowly.

Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. I love you so much Jesus. I whispered to myself.

Fuck the neighbors I thought. I let out a scream of pleasure. Josie looked at me like I was crazy. I was used to such looks.

Bring your fucking pussy on top of my face. Hurry! Please!

I washed my face all over with her pussy juice. I just wanted her pussy juice all over me. I couldn’t get enough, temporarily insane with lust. I spread her fat pussy lips and sucked on her swollen clit and I sucked on it and sucked and sucked and sucked. Licking it and flicking it around with my tongue. Shivers ran down my body as Josie was going equally nuts on my cock. I couldn’t help myself, I had to scream.

Motherfucker! I love the way you do that! I love it so fucking much.

I love it too, Baby. But you still have to keep it down.

Sorry.

I pulled away from her. She got off. I kneeled on all fours on her bed and look her in the eyes inches from her face. My lips were snarling.

You know what I’m going to do now?

My poor baby looked confused. What?

I’m going to fuck you so fucking good. You want me to fuck you good?

She nodded like a little girl.

Are you sure?  Because I’ll do it! You know I’ll do it. I’ll fuck you like you have never been fucked before!

I manhandled her and flipped her on her back and pulled her legs, dragging her until her ass was on the edge. I manually spread her legs wide open till her pussy was staring me in the face. I ate it some more in a crazed fit.

I rubbed the head of my penis all over her pussy and slapped it on her clit.

Look Baby, my dick is all over your pretty pussy for the first time. Doesn’t it feel good?

She nodded in agreement. Fuck me.

I slowly inserted my head into the opening of her vagina.

Oh my God. I’m going inside of you, Baby. I whispered. My dick is going inside you.

I entered her little my little in slow motion, inch by inch by inch. I felt chills riding up my spine. Josie had baby tears coming out at the ducts of her eyes. I worked my dick all the way in till the base was firmed pressed against her clit. I pulled her shoulders down, so that I could be in her as much as physically possible. Josie trembled and took short deep breathes as I grinded my pelvis in a steady circular motion. I clenched her meaty ass cheeks and controlled my own breath as well as the sensation was so intense. Josie and I fucked in perfect harmony like we were built for one another. The walls of her vagina hugged my dick tight as I thrust and moved about in her. We changed positions fluidly and fucked for what seemed like hours.

Facing me, Josie whispered. I want you to fuck my ass. Will you fuck me in the ass? I need you in my ass.

Turn on your stomach, Baby.

She did and spread her ass for me with her hands. I ate out her asshole, licking it, sucking it, darting my tongue inside of it, and making sure that it was nice and relaxed and lubricated.

Are you ready?

Fuck me, Baby. 

I slowly entered her with care.

You have to guide this, Ma.

She puckered her ass up and pushed into me. My dick slid slowly into her tight ass.

Fuck, baby. I can’t believe how good your ass feels.

I positioned myself on top of her and wrapped my arms under her and reached for her pussy and played with her clit as I slowly fucked her ass. Riding her fat, warm ass felt so good.

We fucked and sucked for the rest of the night.

We were wrapped tightly around each other, staring into each other’s eyes, feeling very much in love.

Oh shit. It’s getting light out already. I announced. Josie turned to look out her window.

It’s going to be hot today. Let’s go to the beach!

I looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

Baby, just this once, do you think we can go to Central Park instead? Please!

Posted on November 30, 2007 at 07:49 AM   |   Comment  (4 comments)   

“New Ink in progress on Psycho by Eddie Resk Tc5”

About eight years ago I walked into Rising Dragon and walked out numb with some bullshit permenantly embedded in my arm. A bad tattoo sucks , but I can’t help but feel it sucks even more for somebody who is an artist. It’s downright depressing. Since, some of my friends have developed into amazing tattooists, but there always seem to be a catch 22 involved. They won’t take my money, but at the same time, they’re not going to turn down money in order to hook me up. So after all these years, I’m excited that I’m finally getting my arm fixed. I’m getting a traditional Japanese sleeve from my shoulder down to to my wrists. This kind of ink work is relatively common, but mine will especially stand out for one reason. Triple blends. If you can’t picture it, you will. I’ll be posting pics after eevery session so you can see the progress.

Posted on November 24, 2007 at 07:02 PM   |   Comment  (2 comments)   

“Fast and Furious”

How do you feel about a woman who sleeps with you on the first date?

I like Jackie. She’s making things easy for me and I appreciate this. I finish off my shot of Patron and follow it with a swig of Corona. I smile at her. She looks really pretty with the restaurant’s Christmas lights highlighting her in the background. She waits for my answer. I can see that her eyes hope for the best. I consider my words carefully.

Do you want to go to my house after this?

Yeah, but not if you’re going to think I’m a hoe.

My heart cracks a little for her.

I’m not going to think you’re a hoe.

That’s what you say now.

I grin, wanting to laugh. I know better not to.

You’re laughing at me!

I can see that she’s on the verge of getting upset. She’s as emotional as they come.

I just think that you’re sweet. I like you. Besides, it not like we just met.

I know Jackie from high school and she’s one of the few girls from my 10th grade class who has been able to maintain her appearance despite having two boys from a cop. If it wasn’t for this, I would consider her much more than I do. Cops have way too much power to abuse and can make a lot of trouble for a guy like me. The kind of trouble that’s not so easy to get out of. I don’t usually fuck with women who have cops in their lives.

I know, but it’s not like we ever hung out either.

You should have another margarita.

I think you’re right.

After dinner, Jackie and I take a taxi to my place. The cop has Jackie’s boys for the weekend so there are no time constraints.

The jarring cab ride up Broadway makes Jackie sick. That last margarita backfires on me. We enter my apartment just in time. I direct her to walk straight to the bathroom. Jackie barely lifts the toilet lid up in time before she vomits into the bowl. I rub her back as she hacks her 60 something dollar dinner up. I realize that I am not going to have sex with Jackie tonight. I amuse myself by trying to make out what’s what in the bowl. I catch myself being crazy and I go fetch a towel and wet it. I bring it to Jackie. She wipes her pained face with it. I offer her sympathetic eyes and shrug.

I’m sorry. She tells me. I know she’s embarrassed.

These things happen. It’s cool.

I feel stupid.

Don’t. It’s only a matter of time before you see me like this.

She looks perplexed. She doesn’t know what she should do next and is wondering if she should leave. I can tell she wants to stay, but doesn’t know how to tell me. I feel sorry for her. Her vulnerability triggers something paternal in me. I want her to stay.

Do you want me to get you a tee-shirt to wear to sleep with?

Jackie looks surprised. You want me to stay?

Yeah. Why not? It’s late. There’s no need for you to go home at this time.

Okay.

Jackie and I go to bed. It feels good falling asleep with my arm wrapped around a warm, female body. Sometime during the night, we awake and have sleepy, lazy sex. It’s nice.

I wake before Jackie and go to the store to pick up some breakfast. I feel indecisive. I want to impress her by making an amazing breakfast, but I also don’t want to risk of her getting attached to me. I am not sure about her. Fucking cops, I can’t help think.

Jackie wakes up to an omelet filled with pieces of lox and cream cheese, lightly seasoned with Goya Sazon. I also bring toasted buttered bagels and coffee from Dunkin Donuts. I justify the breakfast by telling myself that this is what I was craving to eat. This is only half true. I want to show off my culinary skills. I’m glad that Jackie likes lox. It’s important to me that she has diverse tastes.

As we eat, Jackie confesses that a man has never cooked for her before. Great, I think to myself. We talk about the sex we had earlier before. She wants to know how things got started. I remind her that she was rubbing her ass against my crotch. She denies this. I tease her, calling her a liar and a horny bitch. She laughs because she knows it’s true. It’s good that she doesn’t take herself too seriously.

We leave my apartment together and take the subway downtown. Before we approach her station, we kiss good bye. Her eyes are hopeful. She wants to know now what? She’s so fucking cute to me right now. I want to bite her. I promise to give her a call later on in the night. She seems to like me a lot. I can like her a lot too if I allow myself. I’m holding back. Fucking cops, I think to myself again.

I get to know Jackie more and more in the following three weeks. She’s simple, predictable and an easy read. I like this about her. I’m not much for mystery. It makes me neurotic. When we don’t see each other, she calls me several times a day just to say hello. It doesn’t matter if she’s with her boys, friends or her mother. She leaves random text messages to let me know that she’s thinking about me. She makes me feel needed and sexy and this appeals to my ego a great deal.

I find myself opening up to her more each day that passes. She feels too safe not to. I let her know that I think of her just as often as she thinks about me. I don’t let her know that I also think about her two kids and her cop ex-man and what to make of them. I decide that it’s time to investigate her relationship with him. She looks pleased that I’m finally asking the questions most guys would have asked the first or second date. I learn that he’s remarried and lives in Yonkers with two more children with his new wife. He cares for their two children as little as he can get away with. This information offers me some relief and lets me consider her as a long term possibility.

Sex with Jackie is a bit too fast and furious for my taste, but I know we are still feeling each other out. She seems eager to please, so this can be adjusted in time. Besides, I find certain parts of her anatomy very pretty and appealing. This alone makes me want to be with her. Each day that I see Jackie, I find myself liking her more and more. I surrender my feelings to her exactly on the second week since our first date, which is a Saturday. I have Orchids waiting for her at my house. We share a fabulous weekend together with great food, wine, sex, blunts, DVD’s and porn.

Monday afternoon she informs me that she met her first boyfriend for lunch. This is something I really don’t need or want to know. I make nothing of it though. I think she’s just making a conscious effort to be as straight up as she can with me. Whatever, I think to myself. I’ve been guilty of this kind of stupidity before.

On Wednesday, she tells me that the first boyfriend called her the night before to tell her that he misses her and wants to get back with her. She tells me that it’s way too late for that. He fucked up. I don’t entertain the conversation, but I do wonder who she’s trying to convince: me or herself?

Jackie sleeps over the next night. She seems pre-occupied. I say nothing as I watch her turn off her cell phone, something she’s never done before. I smile and think whoever first said ignorance is bliss knew his shit. I decide not to fuck her. She fidgets half the night in bed. Sometime during the night she rubs her ass against my crotch. I turn over. I pretend not to hear her cry softly into her pillow.

I wake up at an unreasonable time for work. Jackie sits up in bed. Through the street light that seeps through my bedroom window, I can see that her face is sad. I feel like an asshole. She wants to leave with me and go to her house. I don’t have time to wait for her. I walk towards my door without kissing her good-bye but I find it extremely difficult to be so mean. I go back and kiss her on the forehead. As I walk out my bedroom door, Jackie calls for me. I look at her.

Vincent, is everything okay?

Is it?

I think so.

Okay then. I’ll call you later.

We speak several times throughout the day. I decide not to think so much and jump to conclusions. It’s not easy to convince myself of this, because I can’t help but feel I know better. I’ve learned to trust my instincts. They rarely lie.

I meet with Dash and West on Friday night and go to a graffiti art gallery opening that is featuring Futura 2000 and Doze Greene at Anges B. an upscale boutique in Soho. I see the same old usual suspects that I see at every show. I realize that I haven’t seen West or Dash in so long that they don’t know about Jackie. I decide that there’s no point in telling them about her. There is free Red Stripe beer at this show. I drink till I feel buzzed and then drunk. Jackie calls me several times through out the night. I take all her calls. Her last call is at 3 am to say good-night. I hate that I like her so much.

When I wake up at 11:30 am, I call her to see what she’s up to. I ask her if she wants to get a bite to eat later on in the evening. She doesn’t commit, but I don’t think anything of it.

She calls me at 4:30 pm to tell me that she forgot that she had a baby shower to attend that day. I wonder if she forgot to buy a gift as well. She forewarns me that we might not speak that night. A red flag shoots up. Doesn’t she know that this is the universal ghetto code for I am going to cheat on you and I’m giving you a heads up so you don’t get suspicious when I don’t call or answer my phone because I have another man’s cock in my mouth? I grin to myself and tell her that it’s okay. I don’t tell her that I won’t call her and blow up her spot.

I stay in that night to write. I retire early. My phone vibrates and I wake up. I look at it. The time reads: 2:30 am. It’s a text message that tells me that Jackie just got home and that she’ll call me the next day. I can’t help but think that 2:30 am is a perfect time for dude to be in his bathroom barefooted, taking a post-coitus leak as Jackie rushes a text message to me on her phone. I’m too tired to bother to give this much more thought. I go back to sleep.

Jackie calls me at 10 am in the morning. I let my voice mail pick up. I listen afterwards. Jackie informs me that she missed me and wanted to call me, but knows that I have to wake up early for work. I talk out a loud to myself.

I don’t work on Sundays, you fucking stupid bitch!

Not only does she know that I do not work on Sundays, but her voice cracks several times as she trips over every other word. She is a liar.

I call her back.

Hey!

Hey! I answer back sarcastically.

What’s up, Baby. I miss you. Her voice sounds guilt ridden.

Thank you. That’s nice to hear.

Don’t you miss me?

I remain silent.

Vincent?

Listen, we’re not going to see each other any more.

Why? What did I do?

I just decided that it’s not going to work out between us. Let’s leave it as that.

Don’t give me that it’s not me and that it’s you shit!

I didn’t say that.

Talk to me then.

I don’t see any point in giving her an opportunity to lie to me.

Some things just aren’t worth talking about.

It’s like that?

I’ll see you around the way. Take it easy.

Vincent, don’t be like that.

Bye.

Vincent!

I said bye.

Go to hell, Vincent!

Click.

Posted on November 21, 2007 at 11:14 PM   |   Comment  (3 comments)   

“Waking up the Demons”

I sit at one of the bar-like counters at a Starbucks on the Upper East Side. My Vente coffee is lukewarm and I should be writing but instead I’m answering messages on Myspace. I tell myself that I’ll get to work in another ten minutes. I hear an scratchy, unpleasant voice near by to me.
 

Yo, that shit is fly!
 

Startled, I look behind. A vagrant stands, staring at my lap top with devious eyes.

 
I gots to get me one of those shits! You be tawking to crazy bitches on that shit, huh? That’s that internet shit!

 
He’s disgusts me. His clothes are dirty and ill fitting. I don’t get the impression that he is homeless. He probably lives with some unfortunate old lady who is his grandmother.

 
Yeah, you should. I respond, uncomfortable that he’s standing right behind me.

 
I observe him. He is from the Bronx. I know this because the 4, 5 and 6 subway lines is at the corner. Brooklyn is much too far away for him to come from to loiter the way he is. I also know that he has both neurological and psychological issues from his darting eyes and random twitches. This is a man who has done a lot of different drugs like angel dust, cocaine, crack and heroin. His jagged, yellow teeth tell me that he hasn’t seen a dentist since he was probably a child. His swollen baseball mitten hands tell me that his current drug of choice is heroin and he is most likely to be H.I.V. positive. I wonder if he was recently released from jail or a mental health facility. It’s hard to tell. Why do I think he was recently institutionalized? Because he is over 220 lbs, looks healthier than he should and looks like he doesn’t have two quarters to his name. He was fed well somewhere. I’ve seen his type too many times.

 
Yo, arkee…where can I get me one of those?

 
I now know that the answer to my last question is prison by the Islamic reference. I look him in the eye. My voice is evenly measured.

 
At the store.
 
I censor out the “motherfucker!” that I am thinking in my head.

 
Oh. You’re funny. That’s a bet! That’s a bet!

 
Will you please get from behind me? It’s making me uncomfortable.

 
What? I can stand anywhere I want. You afraid? You afraid?

 
My pleasant, mild mannered mood slips away rapidly. Rage starts bubbling up inside my gut. I look at the scumbag. He’s eyeing my most treasured possession like a vulture. I sense that he wants to rob me and this is making me very angry. I want to hurt him for it.

 
Fuck that! He announces.  I’m sure this is to me indirectly. The dirty vagrant ditty bops, holding his crotch with exaggeration, outside the store. Even though it is night and dark outside I can see clearly that he walks across the street and loiters behind a parked, white flower delivery van. I see him peeking at me from outside the side window. I think about how stupid he is.
 
I question myself. Why is this bothering me so much? The answer is too deep within and I’m feeling too much rage at this point to be truly be honest with myself. I go through the slow process of shutting down my IBM ThinkPad and pack up my belongings. I still make a conscious effort to consider my actions. There’s a battle going on within me. Things are at stake. I’ve worked hard on myself. This guy is just a scumbag, not worth going to jail for or getting infected with H.I.V. if we should exchange blood in a physical altercation. My higher self speaks to me. My lower self doesn’t want to let it go. I leave the store. There are two ways I can go. Towards the more crowded, safer Lexington Avenue or I can lure him to towards a desolate Park Avenue where almost anything can happen without a witness. I choose Park. I do not acknowledge that I am as stupid as I can be wise.  I walk slowly on purpose. With every step, adrenalin seeps into me, making it easy for me to visualize murder. I feel alive and admit that I am getting off by instigating drama for myself.  My instincts speak to me. I stop and suddenly turn around. They rarely fail me. The vagrant is one foot behind me. Any closer and I would be able to feel his breathe on my neck. I look him in the eye. He can not maintain eye contact. He reaches into the inside of his dirty, ugly Ecko Unlimited coat pocket. I grab the elbow of the arm that he’s reaching with and hold it so that he can not move it. I have no idea what he has, if anything.
 

What are you going to do? I asked. My voice tensed.

 
Nothing Arkee. My stogies. Why you tripping?

 
You want to rob me, you motherfucker! My voice raises three decibels higher.

 
Let go of my arm.

 
My grip is tight. I raise his arm higher against his will, his hand still trapped in the inside pocket of his jacket. I have to let him know who’s in control. I find this is way too easy for me and this guy is pathetic piece of shit.

 
I didn’t do anything! He cries. Almost like a little boy.

 
You didn’t do anything? Noooo, you were just going to sneak me from behind and try to take my shit.
 
His words begin to haunt me. I didn’t do anything! I feel an uncomfortable sense of deju vu.
 

I thought you were a white boy!
 

WHAT?
 

My bad, I said. I thought you were a white boy, yo. His voice is cracked and small.

 
Your bad is right because I am a fucking white boy, dick!

 
I don’t feel the need to explain my whole ethnicity to him. I release his arm. Within two seconds each of my thumbs are firmly pressed against his eye sockets. I wonder exactly how much force it would require to blind him. Probably not as much as it takes to push 225 lbs off my chest.

 
Don’t fucking move, or I’ll change your life in five seconds flat, bitch.

 
Okay! Okay!

 
Now walk.

 
I lead him with my thumbs in his eyes towards the wall of the building in front of us.

 
Do you like this?

 
I didn’t do anything! He pleads.

 
The words bring me back to my childhood and it confuses me. I visualize myself naked and wet in the bathtub. My aunt Elsie whips me with a thick suede belt. The water makes the suede stick to my wet skin one second longer than usual, inflicting that much more pain through out every nerve on my body. Each strike feels unbearable. I hate my aunt Elsie for doing this to me and want her to die. The water from the shower stings the raw welts formed on my little body. With each strike, I cry out the same exact words the vagrant does: I didn’t do anything! The words make me feel both sympathetic and more angry. Just when I thought I had such demons in check, this asshole had to come along and fuck with me. I want to kill. 
 
But I can not kill him nor can I blind him I decide for myself.  If I do, both he and Elsie win. I can not allow this. Tears want to flood up but I can’t allow this either. I’m very aware that at this very second, my mental health is being tried. I start to feel sick underneath it all. My limbs tremble unvoluntarily. The rush isn’t so much fun anymore.
 
A well to do resident with fine clothes walks out of the building with his little bitch dog. He stares at my thumbs pressed against the eyeballs of my new friend. It takes him seconds to assess the situation. He knows that it is not good.  I smile, trying to throw him off, but I can tell by his face that he is too smart for this.
 

How’re you doing tonight, sir. It’s cold out here. Isn’t it? I ask him, not giving up.
 

The man doesn’t answer; instead he goes back inside his building. The doorman of the building steps out seconds later. He is young in his mid thirties and Irish looking. His eyes are tough. He can’t possibly have enough information to make an adequate choice. He looks like the hero type and can make trouble for me.  I stare him in the eyes with intense eyes that reveal the rage within me. He gets the message and steps back into his building. Even though I am relieved, I know that within minutes the police will arrive and I might feel the cold sharp steel ridges of handcuffs digging into the thin skin of inside of my wrists. This is the Upper East Side, home to some of the most expensive real estate earth has to offer. The authorities will ask questions later rather than sooner, just to save the citizens the indiginity of such a scene happening on their sidewalks.

 
I have to make a choice and I have to make it now. I release the vagrant’s eyes. The relief on his face pisses me off more. He knows as much as I do, that this wasn’t adequate punishment and like a child, he will learn nothing of his potentially deadly mistake. Within the hour, he will attempt to rob another innocent person. I can not accept this knowledge or maybe I’m justifying my actions. I don’t even know.

 
I open my right hand and I throw all 205 pounds of my person into the slap I land on his face. Like a child, he is stunned and paralyzed with shock. His eyes are wide and emotionless. This is exactly the reaction I expected.

 
Look at me. I demand.

 
He doesn’t want to. He is reduced to nothing but a shamed child.

 
Look at me! I raise my voice.

 
He looks at me, but barely. It is good enough.

 
If I ever see you around here again, I will do something to you that you will never recover from. You understand?

 
He nods.

 
You fucking understand?

 
He nods again. He is full of shit. He only understands the drug that he is craving. But I decide it’s time for me to flee the scene. I walk towards Lexington and mix in with the crowd.
 
The beast within me is still awake and angry. I shuffle through my I-pod and listen to Jill Scott. I know that the softness of  her voice will soothe and calm me like a lullaby. I tell myself, I am not such a bad guy after all, but I do not believe myself and I do not like myself because of it. There are no black and whites with me. Just lots of shades of grey.

Posted on November 19, 2007 at 05:34 PM   |   Comment  (10 comments)   

Sye Tpa-Tc5-Fc Outline

Posted on November 17, 2007 at 04:51 PM   |   Comment  (7 comments)   

“Under the Ring”

I peeked into the cell of the 6’5”, 345 pound cross dressing inmate named Mama D with caution. I knew I was playing with the devil, but sometimes it’s necessary to go real low in order to win, and sometimes it’s very necessary to win. To me, it just was one of those times.

Yo Mama, what’s up?

The fat, black, nasty bastard was in dingy boxers, a yellowish tee-shirt and a red handkerchief tied around his nappy head. The black giant wore make-up that he concocted out of Kool-Aid. Make up and all, he was a vulgar creature to look at.

You… Baby Doll.

The giant homosexual eyed the dozen packs of Newport cigarettes I balanced in my hands and arms.

I need a favor.

You want me to suck your dick?

No, no, no, I laughed nervously, I have a better dick for you to suck.

I was stupid to agree to the terms of the fight with the state champion boxer: no knees, no elbows, no eye gouging, no biting and no wrestling. This left me with no options except to fight his fight and that was a sucker move all day on any day on my behalf. He played on my pride and arrogance and the fact that he knew I had smoked a little weed rolled in Psalms 6.

The beef started where most beefs start in prison, in the TV room. It was in the middle of the morning and most everybody was at their work detail and I felt the rare urge to take in the Richard Bey show, a trashy talk show that featured hookers, porn stars or strippers at least twice a week.

Diegos strutted in and changed the channel, even though it was obvious that I was watching it.

Yo, what’s up? I protested.

Shut the fuck up!

Is he playing? I thought to myself. He has to be playing. The kid and I normally got along until now.

Chill, I’m watching that?

I got up to change the channel back to Richard Bey.

Diegos shoved me. Oh shit! I thought, he’s tripping on me.

Yo, what the fuck is up?

Whatever you want to be up, my nigga? Diegos spitted in a thick Dominican accent.

If it wasn’t for a heroin habit, Diegos would have been a top professional fighter in the street, fighting the likes of Roy Jones Jr. I’ve seen him boxed before and even cheered for him during jailhouse boxing matches with other prisons. I’ll go as far as even saying that I was a fan. The kid was talented with his knuckle game.

What are you going to do? Bite me? You’re a punk!

Actually I was observing his big ears that were easy enough to grab on to and yank downwards, which would surely rip them halfway off, at the very least.

Fight me like a man. Straight up fists! Come on! You don’t dare.

Fuck it, I thought. Whatever! My thought process slowed down from the pin joint I smoked a half a hour earlier.

I followed the cocky Dominican to his cell and walked in to get attacked with no less than 30 body shots that felt like thousands of bee stings. He was quick and fluid with his punches. I managed to grab the bastard, push him and hook off on him. I landed a few hits, but it wasn’t shit. The kid was conditioned to take much more. There’s no need to go into detail. This just wasn’t my fight. I got fucked up and I was okay with that. Everybody loses sometimes.

What I wasn’t okay with was that he told anybody and everybody that would listen. I thought okay, the kid is feeling his own shit for the night. But it became his conversation for days. Every time I heard the kid’s voice, he was talking shit about how he fucked me up. It wasn’t good enough to beat me, he had to make sure that I was fully humiliated. Of course, I could see that this was giving other guys ideas that maybe I was an easy target after all. I couldn’t have that.

There were a few reasons why I didn’t step to him. I was half way into my bit and any trouble I got myself into at this point, would reflect badly on me whenever I sat in front of the parole board. I couldn’t stand to do any more time than I already had. My mind was prepared to do my sentence and any more time would have broken me. To be fully honest, I also didn’t want to give the cocksucker the possible satisfaction of fucking me up again. I was out of his league, fight wise. Something like that would have driven me to murder.

Still, it burnt a hole in my stomach every time I heard him talk shit about me with the stupid smirk he had on his face and the ridiculous Superman curl he had hanging over his forehead. I might not have been able to beat him physically, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t win. I went to Tareek to cop four bags of China White heroin.

Later that night at recreation, I called Diegos towards me by the boxing ring. He approached me suspiciously as he should have.

Yo bee, I just want to squash shit like a man. There’s no need to be talking shit about each other. We were boys. Know what I’m saying?

I took out a bag of heroin and gave it to him.

You trying to poison me?

I expected this and was prepared to deal with it.

Nah, nigga. I’m about to do one with you and shit.

I took out another bag and ripped it open.

Let me get that one.

What a dick I thought. We traded bags and sniffed them at the same time. I’ve done heroin a few occasions before and I couldn’t understand the appeal. Both Diegos and I went to the back of the boxing ring and threw up together. The noises in the gymnasium seemed amplified. My vision got blurry and the tip of my nose itchy. Diegos went into a nod. For what I had planned, focus was necessary and it didn’t come easy.

I saw Mama D slowly making his big way over to us. I grinned in my own personal knowledge of what was about to happen. I scoped the gym out. There was hundreds of possible witness’s, but none were paying attention. Everybody seemed to be consumed with themselves. The guards kept looking at their watches, waiting to go home and eat their meatloaf and mashed potato dinners and fuck their fat ugly wives.

It took seconds for Mama D to yoke Diegos from behind and drag him underneath the skirt of the boxing ring. I tried to kick him, but I was too doped up and missed. Within minutes I heard screams that were muffled by the noises of the gym. I then smelled feces. Yuck! I thought and casually walked with my hands in my pocket to the front of the gym, waiting for recreation to be over. 15 minutes later, Mama D reappeared from the boxing ring, all smiles.

Gym was over and it was of urgent importance that I got to my tier way before anybody else. This took work since I was so high. I accomplished it. I tossed the two bags of dope I had left under Diegos pillow and made it out his cell before anybody saw me. I went to my cell to lie on my bunk, feeling satisfied. I heard other inmates gossiping that Mama D smelled like shit. Most of them were afraid of the homosexual. He was known to knock out the disrespectful and suck their dick on the spot in public. Nobody wanted to chance that. I know I didn’t.

Within the hour, guards came to collect and bag Diegos belongings. He was found unconscious under the boxing ring and taken to Saint Francis hospital in Trenton, New Jersey for surgery. I guess to repair his anus. It didn’t take long for the C.O.’s to find the drugs in Diego’s cell. They immediately called a sergeant who decided to charge the boxer with the drugs, which carried a mandatory 30 day sentence in the hole.

That night I wondered how all the family and friends that was on Diegos “approved to visit” list would respond to the letter that the facility sent to those involved in homosexual activities, whether consented or not.  I also wondered if Mama D passed on his H.I.V. to the cocky bastard. Then I thought how fucked it was that after being raped, he would have to spend 30 days in the hole. Diegos had it bad. Maybe he should have had a bit more mercy on me. How did I sleep that night? Very peacefully. You see, I make it a point to never underestimate or push anybody to their limit, so shame to those who do. You never know what you might get. Usually, it’s fucked...one way or the other.

Posted on November 16, 2007 at 08:13 PM   |   Comment  (6 comments)   

“Outline of the Week:Tired”

For those who don’t know, I’ll honor one outline request a week. 

Posted on November 15, 2007 at 04:40 PM   |   Comment  (7 comments)   

Tcfive.com

Not just because I’m down, but because I always felt this way...one of the most relevant and legendary graffiti crews in the history books now has a website. It still has a lot to be added, like member bios and flicks, but it’s definitely a must check out. See for yourself what all the hype is about.

*Also look out for exclusive interviews with Part Tds, Seen Tc5 and the original and greatest b-boy Prince Ken Swift in future Psycho Love 12 oz Prophet blogs. I ask the questions that scratches beneath the surface.

Peace,
Psycho Love
Tc5 Star General

Posted on November 14, 2007 at 08:17 PM   |   Comment  (6 comments)   

“Resk Tc5 Outline’

This is a first crack at a piece after something like 5 years. No exaggeration.

Posted on November 13, 2007 at 09:25 AM   |   Comment  (5 comments)   

“Crazy”

"I don’t know why you write Psycho. You’re not that crazy.” My next door neighbor’s nephew, a guy who wrote Penn told me.
“Crazier than you!”
“Yeah...what’s the craziest thing you ever done?”
“I don’t know. Vamped somebody?”
“Everybody vamps toys! That ain’t shit.”
“Oh.”
“You ever killed anybody?”
“Hells yeah, I lied, I’ve killed mad people. You don’t know.”
“You’re a fucking lier!”
“No really. I have.”
“Okay then, let’s kill somebody tonight!” Penn challenged me.
“Well, er...I’m not really in the moodfor that right now.”
“I knew you were full of shit!”
“Who the hell are you? I don’t have to prove shit to you. I’m Psycho Tc5!”
“You ain’t down with the Five.”
“Am too.”
“Who put you down?”
“Seen.”
“Seen’s not even down with the Five. He has his own crew.”
“You stupid fuck. That’s a different Seen. I’m talking about the real Seen!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever. I’m bored. Let’s rack some forties.”

I picked up an empty milk crate along Broadway.

“What do you need that for?”
“Watch and learn. We’re gonna see who’s crazy now” I walked into a 24 hour bodega. The owner was snoring behind the counter. I walked to the beer fridge and stocked 12 bottles of Colt 45
into my milk crate and calmly walked out.

“That wasn’t so crazy. The nigga in the store was sleeping.” Penn told me.
“I still did it. what did you do?”
“Whatver.”
“Whatever. I got 6 forties for each of us. Whoever finishes last has to tag their name and I’m a homo!”
“Bet!”

I downed half a 40 and belly already started to swell and feel tight. What a stupid bet I thought to myself.

Penn and I barely finished our beer before we started urinating into the empty ones. I felt both drunk and sick. I wanted to get out the bet but not give Penn the satisfaction of me giving up.
A toothless crack head came up to us, asking us for money.

“I don’t have money, but I have plenty of beer. It’s a little warm though.

“Gimme that shit.” The crackhead cackled.
“Here, knock yourself out!” I gave her a piss filled bottle. She immediately took a large swig and just as fast, spit the liquid right back out. Penn laughed uncontrollablly and dropped his forty on the ground.
“You lose!” I informed him.
He was too busy laughing at the crackhead to care.

“You motherfuckers! I hope you rot in hell.” The crackhead cussed us.
“You want some more?” I asked as I unzipped my jeans and peed in her face, laughing. This made Penn laugh more.

“You see...I’m a crazy motherfucker!’ I announced, impressed by my own stupidity.

The crackhead gave me the finger and ran off into the night in search of drugs. I drank my last beer.

“Yo, yo, yo....I know...let’s knock somebody out!”

I was 15 years old and was desperately trying to develop a knock-out punch. So far, I had zero knock-outs, but I was commited. A preppy looking white guy in a trench coat was walking our direction next to the buildings. He looked a little drunk himself.

“Check this out!”

I waited for the man to get close enough before Iran up on him and threw a sloppy punch at him. I guess I was a little slow because the man jumped back out of the way of my punch and my fist landed on the brick wall next to him. I saw white sparks everywhere and screamed, “Oh my fucking God!” I dropped to the ground in agony. I watched Penn double over in laughter.

“Don’t laugh!!!” I yelled at him. Then all of a sudden, the white guy kicked me in my stomach. I felt all the beer swish around inside of me and I felt nauseated.

“I’m going to kill you!”
“I don’t think so!” The white guy said in a funny voice that made it obvious that he was gay. He kicked me in the gut again. This time harder. As I got up, I threw up. Penn yoked the guy up from behind. Without thinking, I immediate punched him in the middle of his face with my bad hand. More white sparks. I told myself that I was never going to hit anybody again.

“Police! Police!” The man shrilled ina high pitched voice.
“Yo, let’s be out!”

Penn and I ran a few blocks, turning at every corner. We stopped, huffing and puffing.

“If I didn’t save you, that homo would have fucked you up.”
“That’s not true. I was regrouping, getting ready to fuck him up. You just jumped in too fast!”
“You lucky I did.”

Penn busted out a mop and started tagging on a phone booth.

“Don’t forget to write that you’re a homo.”
“Only if you write I got fucked up by a homo!”
“Nobody would ever believe that.”
“Yo, I just thought of something. Why don’t you ever have a marker or can on you? What kind of writer are you anyway?”
“I would be way, way to famous if I was actually up. If I take one tag, mad niggas come up to me jocking me. I get like a hundred phone calls a day. I can’t afford any more fame.”
“You’re not even a fraction as up as I am” Penn boasted.
“And you’re still not as famous as me. So imagine.”
“You really believe in your own bullshit. Don’t you?”
“It’s not that I believe in it. It’s just that it’s true!”
“You know what? You really are crazy!”

I smirked with satisfaction.

Posted on November 13, 2007 at 08:44 AM   |   Comment  (2 comments)   

Outline of the Week: Jel FC

Posted on November 11, 2007 at 01:58 PM   |   Comment  (6 comments)   

“Psycho Outline in the Negative Realm”

Peace

Posted on November 11, 2007 at 01:07 AM   |   Comment  (3 comments)