“Andrea Latoya Denice Scott Murphy Brown (Acrimony)” by A.Dakala

Sometimes you have to know when to walk away with a clean slate. Love hurts like a fresh scar, but over time wounds do heal. See when you throw bullets by hand without using a gun, the damages are repairable. No one sees your dream when they are still dreaming, you can’t believe in others when you don’t believe in yourself. Finally, how can you love someone  when you never been loved?

We met ackwardly but seem to hit it off quickly. Both tired of the bullshit we endured over the years dealing with unstable, selfish and self center individuals. Of course I overlooked the fact that the only wall between them and their past was a legal separation and a pending divorce or the fact that her life was valued on her friends opinions. Deep down I had my doubts especially when I would mention marriage, it was like krytonite to her. I had to understand that she did have two fail marriages; both resulted in cheating and the birth of other kids. So deep down she was a walking time bomb ready to explode.

When we got together it was magical, our sex was a cross between sexual fantasies and soft porn. No hold bars, nothing was off limits. Our kisses were hotter than the wildfires out in California. It didn’t take long to get us started all we needed was eye contact.

As the days, weeks and months grew longer; so did our love for each other. We found ourselves sexing every day, spending every evening together. We drunk bottles of wine, glass after glass and sexed until we were exhausted from multiple orgasms.

There was another side that I started not to like and that was the materialistic side, that made her feel she needed to buy expensive brands because her friends were. Unnecessary spending that had me questioning how life would be if we were to settle down. I loved nice things, but not to the point I needed to impress anyone. When she hung out with her friends, the bad influences would kick in. Having a man didn’t matter, the texts would stop, the phone calls didn’t exist. She started to change right in front of me, I saw it from a distance. When I mentioned it, it turned into a argument. Then things hit a dead end on a trip she took back home. Let’s just say, she enjoyed ignoring my texts and phone calls for 4 days while she spend time with her best girlfriend and the married man she was dating and his brother who was my so called girlfriend’s date. He also claimed to be a Pastor who conducted marriage counseling; picture that and he knew she had a man. I won’t go into details, but in 4 days, there were concerts, hotels, airport pick ups and lunch dates all under my nose. Things hoes do, man or woman.

So the relationship ended; for 5 months, and I wasn’t going to be bothered with her. I ignored every text and phone call from her. Until oneday I was caught off guard by an anonymous number. I didn’t want to be dudes, so I entertained the I miss you and I can’t stop thinking of you comments. I knew where it was going, she been out there fucking losers, and realized what she had in me and wanted to get back on home plate. She wanted to see me so bad. For the next two weeks, I played hard to get, then I broke down after the repeated sex talks and titty pics. No lie the pussy was the bomb, but I’m more than sex is what my mind was saying; but my penis was hard headed. What made it worst is that her son was gone to Florida for the summer; staying at her pops. So those sexual nights sneaking in the living, spreading covers on the floor, pulling out the KY jelly, had us in the bedroom for the summer. She would go shower, get out butt naked and instantly I would be turned on. She was all ass and breast.  We didn’t give a damn about the neighbors hearing us, bed post banging against the walls and we breaking masturbating records. Waking up the next morning not sure how or when we fell asleep.

Then reality would kick back in. What did we really have besides sex. At times we were compatible and then we wasn’t. Physically and mentally I was more settled down and out going with making things happen without procrastinating. She wanted to be kid free, like being a mom was a contract and once the kids were off to college her job was over. For me it was the opposite I loved my kids and would continue being a father to them even when they finished college. I loved things about her but I hated things about her as well.

Her trip to Macon I felt would re-connect our bond and it did one night. She was tipsy and I knew it but she wanted sex and we had great sex that night. Her favorite position was doggystyle and this time we recorded it like two porn stars.

The next night she was going out with the bad influencers to a home party. I texted and asked her what was she doing. She replied, “still having dinner and drinks”. That was around 7:30pm, maybe I shouldn’t have made an assumption, but I figured she would call once she was headed back in for the night. Nothing.

So the next morning I sent a text message voicing my opinion about it. We went back and forth, arguing through texts. She said if you want to talk you know how to find me. Hours went by, I really wasn’t going to reach out , but I said let me handle this differently. I sent 3 text messages, hours passed; no response. I picked up the phone and called, it went to voicemail immediately. I said “maybe I’m dialing too fast; I called again, same results. So I called her ass from my other cellphone and she picked up like she was waiting by the phone. “Oh so you blocking me now?” I said. “Well yes, because you seem like you wasn’t going to call me no more” she said. “I said ok, I got you and hung up in her ear!”. I blocked her from having access to me on all levels, emails, social sites etc. Until this day I haven’t spoken to her since, I’m sure she will have a blast at the essence festival with her freak-nik girlfriends. All I can do is wish her the best and thank her for months of us wasting time together just to sex.

Have another glass of wine, my dear.

Boy Please! By A. Dakala

February 2, 2019; 6 o’clock.

Me and my BFF’s; Shari, Renee and Bonita decided to go to the cabins in the Georgia mountains this weekend, since we didn’t have anything else to do and we all were single now. We all have boy toys to go to in a time of a sexual needs; but nothing serious because any of them were worth settling down with. So as sisters in the name of love; we all decided to break up with all their asses, on the same day at the same damn time.

It’s seems that as the older we got; the harder it was to find a good loving man without having to lose who we were or having to give up our bodies to sex lusters with no goals.

Both men and women at some point in their lives come with so much baggage these days; it’s either baby mama or daddy drama, in between jobs, momma boys or daddy girls, criminal records, no jobs, hustling drugs; hell I could go on and on.

The ones that don’t have extra baggage are unattractive in their own way or no where near qualified to be seen out in public without wanting to attempt to display public affection. I refuse to belittle my qualifications for a steak or seafood dinner date. Why does life have to be so difficult and complicated or is it just me?

So we arrived at the cabins, ready to open up bottles of wine, have a few days of girl talk and see what single men are available for us single women. There was only one issue. It was National LGBT weekend.

Ghost Writer

This is a promotion only.

My new book “Ghost Writer” coming to Atlanta Georgia in June 2019.

If you would like to be in attendance and added to the guest list; please email me your name and email address to:

adakalabooks@gmail.com

A Heart Choice to make by A. Dakala

Waddell Crosby wasn’t your typical African American male with a college degree, tons of street smarts and loved by the ladies. He was the kind of man that a woman could love one night and call her best friend on other days; someone who would have your back and go to war with you whether you was wrong or right. Once Waddell was committed to you he would give you 100% of him; no part time anything in his life with reason.

A single man who could give a woman more than just a materialistic diamond ring or a Tiffany bracelet; he was the kind of man that most women would dream of having. Someone who showed unconditional love whether it was holding her hand while driving, arms locked while walking across the street or kissing on her neck standing in the checkout line at Walmart. Regardless anyone around Waddell would know that he showed his love to whoever he was with; his smile would light up a room; his well-groomed beard was somewhat perfect as if he was modeling his beard for a magazine cover, his cologne scent traveled from block the block. Fahrenheit was his favorite cologne; both men and women would always approached him and compliment him on how good he smelled.

But now there’s a new year approaching; 2019! Waddell is ready to settle down with one special woman in his life. The problem he’s having is he has been dating consistently three different women. There’s been no commitment to either woman just consistently dating, conversing on the phone but he have had sex with all three of them at some point throughout the course of dating them. Each one of these females bring something different to the table that one doesn’t have and now Waddell has to decide on the qualities that these female brings. Which one are branded qualities and which ones are qualities that could make a break a good love relationship.

First there was Fresca Sparkle, she’s sweet as black cherry citrus on a hot summer day but cold as winter. She was smart as Albert Einstein; love to read books and would correct you for using improper grammar as if she was a school teacher wearing Gucci shades standing in high heels. Well educated; holding a master’s degree. She really could have been a doctor. The problem with Fresca; she wasn’t consistent or persistent and couldn’t remember what she did day after day. She wasn’t into fashions, brands didn’t mean nothing to her. A typical day of dressing up for her would be wearing a nice sweatsuit with some flip flops and she would throw her long black hair back into a ponytail but she was sexy as hell though and very beautiful. She reminded me of a California woman cool, calm and collective that just wanted to be loved by a good man. Sex with her was like flipping a coin, some days it was good, some days it was just ok and sometimes it didn’t exist. When we was out on a date we had a great time holding hands, conversing and laughing with each other as if we were best friends and lovers; but there was another side to her that I hated. She always wanted to play the victim never was wrong, always was right and not to mention I caught her in so many lies I just never addressed it, it just wasn’t that serious to me. Another thing that I observed was all of her friends seem to be gay or lesbians.

One thing I did love about her though; no matter what she had my back. She never put her friends before her man even though I truly wasn’t her man but we were dating and she would drop her plans that she had to spend time with me on any given day. Fresca loved cleaning her house always kept it clean very family oriented; that definitely was a plus coming from a man who wanted to have kids and build his own foundation of a family. She paid her bills on time, she didn’t club, she didn’t drink unless it was socially and she never smoked. She was a good girl trying to be better and made it to the scale of wifey material possibly.

Secondly there was Constant Bauman; sexy as hell on the outside, wore the latest fashions, smell good and look good in everything she wore; a true diamond in the rough. Whatever the latest fashion and brands out there where she had it or plan to get it. The problem I had with her was she had low self-esteem and she couldn’t seem to make her own decisions without seeking the advice of her fake friends. Once again another female playing the victim like her shit don’t stink. Another issue I had with her was it seemed that all of her friends around her were gay or lesbians even though she claimed that she was 100% straight. I can tell in conversation that she’s dated a lot of men in her past life not that she’s had sex with all of them but she’s dating a lot of men most of them were drug dealers, on drugs at some point or proclaim to have money.

Now what I did love about her is the sex we had was off the chart; it was no holds bar. Whatever we wanted to do we did. I was truly addicted to making love to this woman; it was always exciting, full of energy and she threw it back just as much as I gave it to her. I can honestly say I never had a sexual complaint when it came to her, hell I’m thinking about sexing her right now as I’m writing this. She loved cleaning her house; always kept it clean; sometimes I wondered was it all just a showboat to impress people. Was she wifey material? She could be but there was a few things that she definitely would need to work on; like handling the same things that she dishes out. She was a work in progress; a good girl trying to be better.

Thirdly there’s Anastasia Faust; also a very smart and intelligent individual that would sometimes give you the impression that she knew way more than you did on any subject, any topic, any time of the day. She would definitely intimidate a weak man especially when it comes to making life decisions. Granted every man in her past life followed her lead as if she wore the pants. I guess that’s what happened when a strong-minded woman meets a man with no potential and the men in her past had no potential for what I’m hearing.

One of the things I didn’t like about her is not having enough drive in her life to do better or want more. Yes she was college educated but I still feel like she didn’t apply herself. She had a great mind for business, good with numbers, great with her hands; love to figure things out or read instructions and put things together. Family oriented on a scale of 1 to 10 I would say she was a four. The type of woman who at some point in her life wanted her freedom away from kids. Now when it comes to having a clean house, she damn sure was a pack rat and the whole time that we’ve been dating; I never seen her pick up a broom, a mop or even dust rag; kind of reminded me of a hoarder.

One thing I did love about her is the sex was great. Definitely no holds bar; there was no rules or no regulations; she could go all night; I made a tap out a few times. I never had to initiate sex with her as soon as she seen me it was hugs, kisses and then she would start unbutton my clothes. A true man’s dream; I’m closing my eyes now just picturing the softness of her lips on my entire body from head to toe. Well she wifey material definitely with alittle adjustment. She didn’t club, she didn’t smoke and she would only drink socially; she just loved having a good time and just wanted to be loved by a good man. A good girl trying to be better.

So I decided in the year 2019 I was going to make a final decision and choose only one of these ladies to be a part of my life, my circle, my growth and the last brick to my foundation. So I decided to choose from a very heart decision; Ms.!

Fingers crossed under oath by A. Dakala

I truly didn’t give a damn about telling the truth under oath; I raised my right hand with pride put left hand on the Bible and told God to forgive me silently as I close my eyes. I wanted to be picked as a juror as badly as I wanted to hit the lottery. I had some inside connections at the courthouse that made sure my application was put upfront. So when they sent me the letter in the mail; I said yes the day has come for my family to get Justice for my cousin Jelly. See my nickname was peanut butter and anytime you seen me, you seen jelly; peanut butter and jelly, we we’re different but one in the same. The man who murdered my cousin street name was Breadman; Street Hustler, con man, pathological liar but he also was jealous of everything Peanut Butter and Jelly did in the streets. So we set him up and planted evidence that would only make him the prime suspect.

I meant I was nervous the first day the all of the jurors had to check in at the courthouse. I prayed that if they ran a background check on me that I didn’t have any type of open warrants that resurfaced from the years of dirt that me and jelly did growing up. I didn’t care what anybody else in the room decided or did if they was chosen to be a juror, my mind was already made up that his ass would get convicted. I knew this wasn’t going to be a case of a hung jury. I was going to make sure that his ass did his time and if anybody felt like he wasn’t guilty they was going to have to deal with me. I had a back-up plan for a back-up plan that backed up my backup plan. I’ve already spotted out the weakest link in the room some dusty old ass lady hair whiter than snow looking at me from the corner of her eyes. Then there’s this white guy who wouldn’t make eye contact with me probably voted for Donald Trump acting like he was scared as hell, he had bit all of his finger nails down to the fingers.

As they passed around the questionnaire application for everyone to fill out. I raised my head and scanned around the room just to see who was really into filling out the paperwork who I need to keep my eye on. These questions would determine if you would be a good fit or not; I lied on every question that was asked even down to my ethnic group. Hell know I wasn’t just African-American today; no not today. Today I was African-American mixed with whatever the hell they wanted me to be mixed with; I was going to become a juror.

As we all got separated in groups I made sure I did not communicate with a soul in the room. I had my shirt button to the neck like a nerd, I wore reading glasses that I could barely see out of and make sure I didn’t make any eye contact with the deputy that kept peeping his peasy ass head in and out of the door checking on everyone. “Where’s Cabana Sienna?” He asked. I raise my eyebrows and look over the top of my glasses staring at the deputy and slightly raised my finger the signal that I was him. “Come with me” he said. The little dusty ass lady made some sound gesture as I walked by; I looked back at her and rolled my eyes. I wanted to pat my ass at her but she turned looked in the opposite direction.

“Cabana Sienna is everything on your application truthful to the best of your knowledge” the judge said. I had my fingers crossed as my left hand was stuffed in my front pocket; and my right hand raised. The judge gave me a stamped document and a name tag that had my name on it and I was officially Juror number 1 1 1 7.

I had made it to the final stage and considered an official juror in the murder case of De’Angelo “Jelly” Sienna.

On the first day of the murder case this will be the first time that I had seen Jelly’s murderer face to face in court. As I stared at him without blinking an eye; he notice me and in his own words silently uttered the words Butter you up next.

Lawyers for both sides presented their evidence; they either was going to spare his life or take his life and my job was to take his life by all means necessary.

Day two and day three passes with more evidence; more finger pointing and a lot more work that I needed to do. He had no alibi; there was no witnesses.

On the fourth day unexpectedly we were dismissed; there was no evidence presented this day but they did announce that they had a witness that came forward my heart dropped.

On the 5th day as all the jurors who was selected gathered together to talk about the evidence on the murder case; there were a few cops who I didn’t quite remember or recognize that was on the scene 5 years ago. Also the old Dusty lady, the silent racist white guy who couldn’t make eye contact with me and some Asian chick who didn’t have on a name tag, but had a note pad and pen in her hand were the chess pieces of the game. Maybe the Asian chick was there just taking notes or she could have been one of the jurors who knows, who cares I had a job to do; I needed to get somebody’s ass convicted of Jelly’s murder. I was nervous, I started to sweating wondering who was this witness. As I replayed that night back in my head there couldn’t have been a witness it was only me, Breadman and Jelly.

On the 6th day I was pissed because the whole room was undecided; pretty much a split down the middle of a conviction. I stood my ground and tried to convince others who didn’t want to convict, the reason why a conviction was necessary. After nearly six hours, It seemed to have worked as I had planned. Everybody talked as if a conviction was the best solution in the murder case. We were just waiting to give the judge our vote.

We could hear the Deputies walking down the hallway towards the room that we were waiting in. Then the door open an a Deputy stuck his head in the room and said “Butter, Judge Gotcha’ass needs to have a word with you immediately.”

Searching for King by A. Dakala

As I look back on the one person that got away; I’m often reminded that I may not ever find my King. My life changed the day he left and hasn’t been the same since.

It was my best friend; Mary’s birthday coming up next week and also Black Gay Pride anniversary in Atlanta so the city will have parties on every corner. It was also my boyfriend Curtis King’s best friend engagement dinner that he had been asking me to attend with him for weeks. I admit I did say I would go only because Mary hadn’t made any plans for her birthday as of yet. As the days got closer to the engagement party I knew I had to give him an answer. So I guess I will have to miss out on my best friends party I really wanted to go; being with my boyfriend’s friends will be so boring and they are so corny. All these guys wanted to do is sit around talking about their pledging days in college. Everytime I meet one of them; there were a different chic present thinking she was cute as hell with a need to make a lace front hair appointment as soon as possible look. This one chic had it out for me I believe, everytime I looked up she was rolling her damn eyes at me and in Curtis face every chance she got. Tonight I guess I will confirm my plans with Curtis once I get home.

I was already to confirm when Mary called me; as I was putting the key in the door to enter the house. “Tamika, girl it’s all set, I have rented us a mansion over in Sandy Springs for my birthday bash” she said. “Shit” I said out loud. “Is something wrong girl?” “Mary, I will call you right back let me get in the house and get settled”.

“How are you babe?” Curtis said as I stood by the door taking off my heels. “It’s been a long long day” I said. I tried to avoid any eye contact with Curtis; knowing he was expecting an answer from me. But he was very pushy and methodical. He grabs me by my hands and pulls me into his chest, kissing my neck. Then those words surface, whispering into my ear; baby since it’s hard for you to decide on what you are doing, go ahead and go hang out with your friends. My heart stopped for a moment. “Why you don’t won’t me to go now?”. “I do but I don’t want you to disappoint your friends to hangout with my lame boys”. I couldn’t have said it better. “Ok” I said. I pushed myself out of his arms and pulled out my cellphone. As I looked back at Curtis he had already went upstairs.

“Mary I’m going to your party, Curtis had a change of heart and encourage me to go; girl it’s on and popping now” I said.

Curtis was at the top of the stairs ear hustling; listening and sending out “she fell for it” text messages to his friends.

Curtis had it all planned out, crashing her girlfriend’s party to get down on one knee since most of her friends would be there and asking her to marry him.

The day of Mary’s party created the perfect mood, I sexed Curtis so long last night as if it would be our last supper. He slept like a baby, all I could do is think of the party and the nasty shit that’s about to take place tonight. I made sure he was satisfied by doing some freaky shit I normally don’t do.

Mary called and said the surprise were all set and this was going to be a circus of a great time to remember for life.

Curtis left the house; saying he had something to get together for tonight, I paid his ass no attention.

Once I was at the party, the liquor and food was popping, all the girls were there we all changed into just bra and thongs. Allot of titties and ass walking around. Then the doorbell rang. It was all chocolate muscles and penis and a couple of bad bitches too. Oh my God these guys were packing, all I could think about was my poor old uterus. The girls were beautiful and had big asses. I’m not big curious but tonight I was.

We all picked the guys and girls we wanted and the fun began.

A hour into our orgy the door open and someone stopped the music; we didn’t realize it. There were cameras and confetti, and my mouth dropped as Curtis should there with his friends and mother with a black box in his hand. I couldn’t move sitting on this random guys lap with his penis erected inside me and my hands gripped around the titties of another woman. Mrs. King , Curtis’s mother walked out, I jumped up, with Siemen dripping from my vaginal lips to reach out to Curtis. He turned his back and walked out.

That was the worse day of my life. Fast forward I’m now with a loser, who will not keep a job. The sex is terrible and I’m scared to leave him from the threats of harming me. I feel trapped.

Clitoris by A.Dakala

It was something about the enjoyment I got out of sucking on her clitoris. We were both very sexual homosapiens with high sex drives.

I sat at work thinking of pulling her panties off as she stood there in high heels; nipples erected through her padded Victoria secrets bra. Picturing myself I’m down on my knees with both hands gripping her ass cheeks like two basketballs. Everytime I would lick the right spot on her vaginal; her butt cheeks would push slowly in and out to my abrasive strokes.

Our connection was strong as black coffee, no sugar , no cream. Our body sweat combined was enough to impregnate the soil beneath the concrete. I wish my tongue was longer; the thought of wanting to blow kissing inside her stomach as I spreaded her vaginal lips east to west.

It turned me on when she would take your fingers and rub her clitoris, finger tips creamy and put them in her mouth. Sucking them as if she had my manhood held like a bratwurst. As I’m looking up at her squeezing her ass harder, my tongue strokes were getting stronger; feeling her body twitching getting her closer to her boiling point. Her nipples looked as if they wanted to burst out of her hazel pecan skin; growing from a dime to quarter like Pinocchio’s nose . I reached up with one arm and gently squeezed one nipple. She literally released an orgasm so hard as if she was holding her urine in 5 o’clock rush hour traffic on I-285 east. She roared like a Lion as her juices had me swimming in the Aquatic center pool. I had to peep at her with one eye to make sure she wasn’t transforming into someone that wasn’t suppose to be there. I didn’t want to drop no juices, my esophagus was in over drive like a hellcat shifting into six gear. It was sweet, tangy, bitter, coating and warm. Sexcrise mixed with natural protein.

I was definitely hooked and had her hooked as well. Her body had been defeated with her waving an invisible white flag of surrender. Slowly fallen down to the floor in a fetus position with me bracing her body. She had to push me away as her clitoris left only a drop of orgasm juice. I teased it with the tip of my tongue. She tighten her thighs, I pressed the inside of her legs trying to over power her tense muscles. If my lips had not branded her cravings enough but I would have paid top dollar for her juices being bottled up and sold like pints of milk.

We both laid there breathing hard as if we crossed the finish line in a track meet, chest going up and down; as our lungs were trying to catch up to our sexual cardio. We look over at each other and said “Damn, I need some water at the same time!”

I DO NOT look like my story by A.Dakala

Working in corporate America is similar to a domestic violence victim covering her scars with make-up.

Everyone has an untold story, some bad turned good; some good turned bad. No one watches the news for good news, news is watched with the intentions of something going terribly wrong.

As I was writing this I thought of a few individual stories that I couldn’t resist from speaking on. I will save my story for last.

No one expected Eugene’s life to sparrow out of control the way it did. I mean he had a very strict up bringing as a child and parents who were adamant about him getting a better education. Anything that came too easy was settling in the eyes of his parents. Soon Eugene started to become rebellious; as other kids teased him about the unbranded name of clothes and shoes he wore. His parents were very frugal about the family’s needs and wants; plus there wasn’t a lot of money coming in the house.

As a means to connect with other kids just to fit in, Eugene got into playing sports early; a requirement his father was religious about. By the time he was in middle School he was a star athlete in every sport he played. As his popularity grew so did his ego. Seeing his name in the local newspaper every week; seem to be the only time Eugene would have a smile on his face.

Becoming interested in girls started taking priority over sports. Now that he’s in high school; getting a job to impress the girls became his top concern. He was very popular among his peers in the sport arena. Some even wore self-made jerseys on the school’s game day to display their suppose and liking of him during the school’s home game Friday pep rallies.

How could a star football player with such a nasty temper and even worse attitude be the face of such successful school. The football coaches had seen enough of his pre-Madonna activities towards his team mates. One day Eugene was seen cuddled up with a female outside of the boys locker room; when he should have been on the practice field. As the coaches watched and took notes, Eugene took his time getting to the practice. Not knowing that the coaches had enough of his rock star attitude, the head coach single Eugene out in front of everyone. Collectively they decided to kicked him off the team immediately.

As Eugene stormed off the field in a rage; he didn’t know his life would take a turn from that day.

Three months before he was to graduate from high school Eugene gets into a fight with another student and breaks the young man’s nose. The school called the police to have him arrested and expelled him for the year; in which means he wouldn’t graduate with his class.

He did manage to go tonight school and get his GED but the streets started to look attractive to him. It wouldn’t take him long to start selling drugs in his neighborhood. I know what you saying, same shit different day. But, everybody’s story has a different outcome.

Fast forward money came quick and before long I found myself addicted to hustling. I knew that I still needed my education just in case the street money slowed down. Each week I was lacing my body with tattoos, looking for that particular image. My journal I had been keeping for years turn into songs of pain. It was my source of crying out; not for help but I just wanted anyone to listen to my pain that no one could feel. So now my body art has me looking like a thug, I enrolled in college as a Golden Bull freshman working towards a Business degree. I was so undecided on what I wanted to major in, but finally got it right after three changes. College student during the day, lab tech in the evenings and drug dealer at night.

Fast forward ten years with a body full of tattoos. Entered me; the corporate thug. On the outside my life look grand, big beautiful homes, fancy cars, love life could be better, but we all are works in progress.

I hide behind my career from all the evil things i have done in life and to people, surrounding my time in the streets. I don’t regret my past but it often leaves memorable scars. To look at me you would not be able to tell am i a K.I.N.G.!

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