Psycho Love
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Psycho Love

Psycho Love

New York, New York

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“Keeping a Good Thing Going”

Sketching my favorite thing in the world.Who is next?
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Posted on March 23, 2008 at 01:05 AM   |   Comment  (1 comments)   

Woman as Art by Psycho Love

Posted on March 20, 2008 at 11:14 PM   |   Comment  (3 comments)   

“A Ghetto Love Tragedy”

Big Mike drove up to the block on his Honda sports bike just as Ices walked out her building. She made him do a double take. He’s seen the girl plenty of time, but never looking so good the way she did. Ices saw him and immediately got nervous. She held her head high and continued to trot across the street in her cheap stilettos.

Yo Shorty! Big Mike called out to her.

Ices knew he was calling her, but continued walking, not being sure what to do. Big Mike gave his bike’s engine a rev and beat her across the street, blocking her path. The kids hanging out in front of the corner store got a laugh off this. To them, Big Mike was the man who could do no wrong. At first Ices was startled, but as soon as Big Mike lifted his helmet off his head, she became mesmerized by his green eyes. Big Mike knew the effect his eyes had on women.

What’s up, Shorty? You’re going to diss me like that?

Oh, I’m sorry. Ices said flustered. I didn’t know you were talking to me.

That’s cool. Where’s the party at? I wanna go.

Ices laughed nervously. There’s no party. I’m just going to the store to pick up some groceries and things for the house.

Dressed like that? I like your style.

Big Mike passed her his spare helmet.

Put this on and get on. I’m taking you for a ride.

I’ve never rode on a motorcycle before.

Then what are you waiting for?

Mike speeded all through Flatbush Avenue, weaving in and out of traffic like a fish. Ices held on tight with her chest pressed firmly against his back. She was scared to death, but at the same time, never had she been so thrilled in her life. Mike popped a wheelie and rode an entire city block on one wheel. Ices shrills turned into giggles.  The stars were just right, as was the mood. Mike and Ices were destined to make love that night. There was no denying it.

The following morning Big Mike woke up stressed that he had slept so late. Ices attempted to be affectionate and hug him, but he had no patience for it. It was a different day and a different mood to go with it.  His cup was satisfied from last night. There was nothing else Ices could do for him now.

Come on, yo. I gotta go. I don’t got time for this now.

I was just trying to hug you.

Yeah, I know.

Mike put on his baggy jeans and slipped on his Timberlands.

When I’m gonna see you again?

Mike shrugged his shoulders.

I dunno. Later on or tomorrow. Next week maybe.

Next week?

I don’t know. Why you’re stressing me?

And with those words, Ices heart was broken. She questioned her actions. She put out too soon. Just like the rest of them. Still, she hoped that Mike would be soon become her man. She would take good care of him and prove herself worthy.

Later on that afternoon, Shy arrived at her door. Shy was good looking with dark skin and big soulful eyes. Shy was a rare individual in the Brooklyn ghetto. He never sold a drug, not even a nickel bag of weed in his life. He’s had a job from the very first day he received his working papers at 15 years old. Ices thought that Shy was corny and boring because of this, but he served a purpose. Even girls need their ego stroked every now and then, especially when they have their hearts set on unavailable men like Big Mike.  Shy was that dude for Ices.

Ices kissed Shy on the cheek at the door, disappointing him once again.

Guess what?

Ices looked at him. She didn’t like guessing games.

U.P.S. has a supervisor position out in Long Branch.

Long Branch? Where’s that?

You never heard of Long Branch? It’s out in Jersey by the shore. It’s little country like.

Well, Ices not knowing what to say…Good luck.

I was wondering if you want to come with me. You know, get out of here and start a new life.

I like it here. There’s nothing wrong with living in Brooklyn. Ices said defensively as she tied up the laces of her Gucci sneakers that had red, green and white stripes.

I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong about living here. But don’t you want a change?

I like it here. I like my job at the hair salon. I don’t want to change anything.

Shy attempted to hold Ices by the waist, but she brushed him off.

What do I have to do to make you like me?

Come Shy, don’t start that crap again. Please.

I’m saying, Ices. When are you going to see the light?

Ices hated when Shy frustrated her.

What light? There is no light! There’s no you and I. Never been. And there never will be.
What the fuck?

Shy stood numb. Ices words stung his heart, but he’s finally got the message. Ices will never be part of his life.

I got to go.

Ices felt guilty and sad for Shy.

Shy! I’m sorry.

Ices gave Shy a hug. This was the first time that Shy knew a hug didn’t mean much between him and Ices. He broke the hug and headed for the door.

I’ll see you around.

Yeah, I’ll see you around, Shy.

The next month, Ices was five days late for her period.  She felt sick with nervousness. What would she do if she was pregnant she thought. How would Big Mike take it? He wouldn’t like it, but he’ll never deny his own baby. Mike had a bad reputation, but he wasn’t that cold hearted.

Ices got a pregnancy test from the local pharmacy and just as she feared, the stripe slowly turned red.

That night Ices couldn’t sleep. She didn’t know how or even if she should tell Big Mike. She eventually cried her self to sleep.

Months passed like days and she saw Big Mike many times. Sometimes he was friendly and flirted with her and sometimes he barely acknowledged her. Soon it became obvious that Ices was carrying a child in her. When Big Mike first noticed Ices swollen tummy, he suspected that it might be his, but he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about the prospect of diapers and child support and baby’s mama drama. Besides, he told the stupid bitch that she had better not be pregnant. She did that shit on purpose. That’s why she held him when he came that night. Fuck that. This was on her. Big Mike suddenly became unapproachable to Ices.

On the ninth month, Ices went into labor and gave birth to a dark skin baby boy. It was June 4th, making the boy a Gemini just like his father. The kid would prove to be just as complex and difficult to Ices as Big Mike.

It’s been a year since that night with Big Mike and Ices literally ran into him with her bay stroller inside the corner grocery.

Oh hey, Mike.

Big Mike looked at Ices up and down. He didn’t want to be too friendly with her, but she looked to pretty that day.

What’s up, shorty?

Big Mike couldn’t resist looking inside the stroller. He immediately knew it was his. The face and green eyes was undeniable.

Who’s the father?

I think you know.

No, I don’t know. What the fuck I look like a mind reader?

It’s your baby, Mike.

Fuck out of here with that shit, bitch! If that was my son, that kid would look much different.

Mike held out his hand to show Ices.

I’m light skinned. That baby there is dark.  Besides, you would have been told me.

I didn’t tell you because I knew that you were going to be like this.

You’re full of shit. Let me pass.

Big Mike walked around the stroller. It would be the last time for a very long time until he would see his son again. Big Mike got locked up on occasion and did 3 and 6 month bits. When he got out, he always hustled in Bed Stuy, but always on a different block.
Ices dated whoever was there to give her a helping hand financially, mostly drug dealers of the cocaine kind. Not only did they help her out with milk and her cell phone bill, but they also provided her with drugs to sniff away her blues. It didn’t take long for Ices to be [known to suck some cock for a few white rocks. It wasn’t unusual for the little boy to see different men night and night and sometimes in the afternoon.

Years have a way of passing, and before Ices knew, her boy wasn’t just physically growing bigger, but also growing bitter and resentful towards her as well. He couldn’t relate to his mother. It was as if they were strangers living in the same house. He didn’t understand the purpose of school, so he never went. Everything he knew, he picked up from the streets. He became very proficient at drug dealing and acting hard. Like his father he liked to fight and had a natural aptitude towards it. By the time he was 15, he carried a loaded 38 in his waist.

Big Mike just got from doing 4 months at C-74 at Riker’s Island. He crashed at his grandmothers and the next day it was back to business as usual. Hydro and Haze replaced coke and crack as the most lucrative drugs to clock on the streets. He heard that there were some young boys making a killing over at Ices block. Big Mike considered him self a real nigga and real niggas did real things like take over money making drug blocks.

Big Mike arrived on the street, strapped and with 50 dime bags of Haze that would he intended to sell that same day. He approached a young thug

You got that Haze.

The young thug studied Mike and nodded. Big Mike thought the boy looked familiar.

That’s what I thought.  Check it, young cuz. I’m running this block now, so I’ll see you later.

The young thug stared the man in his eyes. They were green like his.

You serious?

Do I look like a dude who plays?

The young thug didn’t say anything. He just pulled out his gat, cocked it and aimed it at his father.

Damm. Big Mike knew he fucked up. This little punk had the drop on him and he knew it. What the fuck was he going to do?

The young thug never killed a man. He looked into Big Mike’s eyes and they were just like his. It wasn’t just the old man’s eyes. It was everything about his face. It was like he was looking at himself in the mirror, just more matured. The young thug knew he was looking at his father for the very first time. He just didn’t realize that it would be his only and last time. The first bullet rendered him dead. The other five were so unnecessary.

It rained all day on the day of the young thug’s wake. Thugs from all around his way paid their respect. They loved him. He was one of them. He walked like them and he talked like them. He even fought like them. They poured Hennessy from the bottle into the cracked concrete street in Bed-Stuy, where people do or die.

Based on Jay-Z’s “Meet the Parents”

Posted on March 17, 2008 at 08:52 PM   |   Comment  (8 comments)   

“That’s all Folks!”

Thanks for reading my stories. You guys have been a huge source of motivation and confidence for me. However, my time is crazy limited and I have to move on and get cracking on an actual book dealing with the current dramas of my life. My 70 hour a week tattoo apprenticeship in Washington Heights, my dealings with whacky ass Myspace bitches and not being able to figure out if my female roomate is a prostitute or just a nympho. Not as grimey, but potentially just as entertaining.

For now enjoy this video of Styles P, Pappoose and Lupe Fiasco freestyling in a cipher. Lupe kills it.


Posted on March 03, 2008 at 08:38 PM   |   Comment  (19 comments)