Photo by a very young Haitian man in Times Square. I paid him $14 to send me this. Peep Tiffany Hardin running up behind me. I had no idea. Hah!
Written last week.
It’s Sunday and I’m sitting at my girlfriends’ new home. She and her hubby just bought an insanely beautiful place in Brooklyn.
There’s gorgeous Black art hanging on their walls, a perfect and direct view of the East River, and, thanks to some THC, I get to experience it a little high. These days, I have found myself to enjoy both the natural highs that life and God have been affording me, but a lil’ 5 mg of plant medicine does it for me, too. I feel relaxed, happy, and clear.
I’m fine tuning the playlist I’ve curated for a private event I’m also speaking at this evening, the soft opening of Babel Loft.
We just spent the past couple of hours talking about love, relationships, and clarity.
And I am basking in a number of revelations about my journey lately with dating that I’d like to share with you.
This feels pretty transparent, and it’s all fresh with me, but hey. I love that the place to be gets to truly be my public journal. Thank you for supporting my creative expression and presence in the world.
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