The Truth is Dead...

...murdered by the art of conversation

"She Needs My Love" by The Dream

...she said I'm like the air / and without me she'll die...

I landed in Miami on Thursday afternoon. Shatara and Stevara picked me up and commenced an adventure.

First, let me say that I love those girls. There isn't enough time to explain to you what they have done for me and how much I love them.

So when you have time, take an eternity and think about how much a person could love another and that is about half of what it truly is.

We partied that night, awaiting midnight so I could officially turn 22. I know. 22.

I have no idea what happened but I apparently was a funny obstinate patron of firewater and they took such good care of me.

I even reunited with some old friends for the night and chilled with them at the beach the following day (although the jocular tone of the reunion was hella shortlived and reminded me why we aren't really friends anymore).

For the actual day of my birthday, I was at the beach, lifted and it was hilarious. Patrice and I laughed at each other breathing. It gets no better than that. We were surrounded by the wonderful ladies of 804's prestigious Virginia Commonwealth University including Stevara, Shatara, Stephanie, Shemone, and Melanie.

I just loved my life for those couple of days. I spent time with the best friend of my childhood, Patrice Ward, which is representative of return to normalcy in my life I believe. I love Patrice. I love her in that ethereal, pure way that isn't actual possible of human beings, but I feel like I have it for her. She was there in the beginning of the turmoil of my mother. She was my earliest distraction and getaway when the fan was tossing sh*t around in my life.

This birthday, this 22nd year, is another new year celebration. This is the year of the lover.