Released

I leave for the weekend and you decided to turn around
Do your thing
Not give a fuck
And let this drown
Goddamn, I knew this time would come
Didn’t know for how long it was going to last
But I know now
Deleting your apps so your ex won’t suspect shit
I dreamt about that
I told you I was a witch
And that I’m not a bitch to fuck with
Ain’t giving you your stupid jacket back
Don’t even trynna call to come get it
It’ll be far gone, cuz I’m gonna wear it
That’ll be like a trophy and I’ll wear it nicely
It’s a Levis so it was quite pricey
Called you and you hung up the phone
Fuck you, nigga!
Just go back to yo’ momma’s home!
Daddy issues fucked you up, you ain’t far from that
You turned out to be just like your dad
Got yourself lookin’ in the mirror with his face starin’ right back
Do whatever you want
Cuz’ I officially don’t give a fuck
You wanted a pity party, well now you’ll have one
Boo-hoo, R2! I feel so bad for you!
Poor baby, you got so much on your table!
Your head spinning so fast you just can’t be stable!
I feel so sick…
The only good thing ’bout you was your big ass dick
But like that one I’ve had plenty
I know I deserve much better
But now for a fact I know that you’re really not that clever
Fuck this shit!
I’m tired writing about this bitch
You just like fucking Kanye
And I’ll be like Amber Rose
Good luck finding someone that’ll fuck and lick your ass-hole
Peace out
I’m out
Forget ’bout me too
I won’t be around

 

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall-Who’s The Dirtiest One Of All?

It was late at night, I already ran out of coke and my friends were planning on getting some more and go to another friends place to keep on partying but I decided to stay.
Went to my favorite bar in downtown Tijuana, the bar that never closes, and ordered some 40’s of Tecate Roja with a friend that I thought was going to be alone, not accompanied with her boring ex-boyfriend. So, ofcourse, I was the only one getting drunk, whoopy…
Then, finally, things got interesting when this guy comes in and joins the opposite end of the table. Hubba! Hubba! I see him, and notice him looking back at me as well.

I knew it. I wanted him. I was going to have him. #feelingdetermined

We both knew who we were but he has, or was, been in the longest ass relationship ever with a girl that has the bitch face resting syndrome (she’s actually very pretty and has huge tits), but Ms. Steal Your Man saw him without his bodyguard and only with male friends that looked that were ready to have a great time, and so was I.
Like about a 40 oz later, he and his crew got a booth and about half an hour after, the booth right next to his was free with my name written all over it.
My friend, my very fun friend, decided to leave with her ex, even when I clearly stayed and passed on good blow because she wanted to have a “drunken” night #myballs. So before she left, I asked her if she could quickly ask for his name and introduce me to him, but she got “nervous” #goddamn. **Ps. That’s the easiest way to meet someone when a couple of drinks are in your system, but she couldn’t even do that …**

A friend that we, the guy and I, have in common sat with me and we were just remembering the good ol’ days. I asked him what was up with his buddy and ‘assured’ me that he was still dating his girl, but I decided not to believe in that. Trust me, I wasn’t the only one after him. Before I made my move, I saw how two girls failed. The second girl didn’t take the hint and was just annoying the fuck out of him, so I decided to play hero and save him #ifyouknowhwatImean. That’s when I just turned around and made a “come over” sign with my hand, and he did. That was it (Thank god for my psychology classes and body language reading abilities).
He sat on my left side and our buddy was on my right. While we were laughing and ordering more drinks, he was touching my leg up and down and squeezing my ass. That’s when I thought “Hu, the girl ain’t on the picture anymore eh’?”, because we were right next to his homies, which are his gilfriend’s friends too, so I just went with it.

About an hour later we were leaving that joint, I opened the door and the sun was blinding our eyes, who know’s what time it was.
We arrived, went into my crib and sat in different couches of my living room. I went quickly to my bedroom to get my water pipe and weed. Started lighting it up, offered him some but he declined. I smoked a little more, placed everything aside and locked him down, with my legs ofcourse. Damn, things got hot very quick. He didn’t mind that I was on my period #real #best (Don’t worry, it was my first day, so no murder scene going on).

Not even kidding, we fucked in the couch, we fucked in the dining room against a full sized mirror, also fucked in the kitchen against the refrigerator, fucked in the restroom against that mirror, left him in the shower, went to my other shower to rinse and clean everything and joined him again; we fucked standing up with the water running over us, and also laying down on the tub. We finally took the situation to my bedroom; we fucked standing against my mirror, again, and on my bed. He fucked me so good, as if he hadn’t fucked in years.
That rough, hair pulling, face slapping, ass spanking, name calling, shoulder biting, raw, hella good kind of sex #mykindofsex. Damn, he was good. I came multiple times and so did he. We both passed out, well, he did, I was only able to rest my eyes for like an hour before I had to get up and take care of my babies (pets). He woke up around 7:00 pm, I laid right next to him and asked him for his phone so I could delete all the porn videos that we made earlier that day #lol.
When we were saying our goodbyes he said “We’ll see each other soon, maybe sooner than we think”, in my mind I was like “Fuck yeah, baby”.

Afterwards, I just stayed at home, ate pizza and watched movies. The next morning I had to trace my steps and clean up the whole house. Our hand prints were on all the mirrors throughout the place (If you’ve ever been, you’ve seen how many I have…plenty!) It was like going back to memory lane, remembering what happened in every mirror that we stopped (fucked) by. If only mirrors could speak.

Two with everything, please (No, I’m not talking about tacos).

So this last weekend I went on a Tinder date, a manager of a brewery in Cali. Let’s call him John, John (33 y/o)  super liked me on Tinder, he looked handsome in his profile, and it also said that he’s 6’5…Who wouldn’t like to climb something like that? Meow. I definitely started talking to him, we kept messaging back and forth for a couple of weeks before deciding to meet up. As confident as I may look and/or sound, I do get anxy about these kind of meet ups.

There I was, sitting at the bar of Thorn St. Brewery (great IPA’s by the way ♥), waiting for him while I was talking to a couple that were right across from me. He touched my shoulder, I turned around and stood up to give him a hug and melted a little when I smelled his delicious cologne.
We had a couple of beers at that place, then went to another couple of bars and had a beer on each. When we were at the last bar, after we finished our drinks, I thought I heard him say that we were gonna go to a different bar. Got out, started walking and then all of a sudden we were in front of an apartment complex, I was like “WTF?”…gave it a couple of seconds, looked at him and thought “Why not?” lol.

Ok, so when it comes to guys I usually kind of research them when I get the hold of any of their social media accounts. Believe me guys, most of us girls do that. Nothing new, let’s move on.
By checking out his instragam, I found a picture of his brother, which he already talked to me about. Didn’t think that the younger brother (24 y/o), let’s call him Derek, would be that handsome until I walked into the apartment. The place smelled of dank weed, which I’m not complaining. John introduced me to his jaw-dropping, handsome brother Derek, and then he left to get some food. We smoked a little weed, and then John showed me his special refrigerator with awesome barrel aged beers. He opened one because it was a “special occassion” (yeah, cus’ you gonna get laid, bitch! Pardon my french…). The beer was delicious and the night was going great. I really don’t remember how the makeup session started, but I definitely remember how it ended *a little smirk appears on my face*.

Sex with him was great, it definitely was drunk sex, but the sexy drunk kind of sex.  The only time that things got a little bit weird for me was that, when doing it, he would ask/say “Who are you?”…Something that my ex-boyfriend, the one from the first blog posts, would tell me over and over since the first couple of weeks that we met. So it was definitely a movie kinda’ of moment, you know? Him doing me, and me thinking/remembering my ex. Then completely forgot about him the moment his face was between my thighs. Had me looking stars for a while in his pitch-black room.
Not gonna lie, faked an orgasm, it wasn’t gonna happen for me. There are three different kind of orgasms, okay? The real one, which unfortunately many of you guys don’t know how to achieve, the “get it over with” one, self explanatory, and the A for effort, the one that he got. Think about it as a big bumble bee sticker with a giant A+ on your Grammar homework from Elementary, wasn’t that shit dope? I was happy, and he was happy that I was happy, and that’s all that matters at the end of the night.

After two glorious rounds, we passed out. At least I did, he works graveyard, so we have switched up schedules. Woke up next morning, worked that morning wood, and was planning to either pass out again or start getting ready to head home. Instead, he invited me for breakfast. Changed and headed out to the living room where John was waiting for me. Then I see Derek in the kitchen doing dishes…That handsome Derek. Suddenly it wasn’t only John and I going to have breakfast, it was Derek too! It’s cool, obviously because he’s hot af and wouldn’t mind spending part of my morning with his company (okay, got a little carried away), but that would’ve been a big “no-no” for me.

The three of us happily entered this very old breakfast joint in San Diego called Big Kitchen. Bomb ass potatoes by the way, super recommended. John sat next to me and Derek across him. I noticed Derek glancing at me a couple of times. John left us for a couple of minutes while he went to the restroom. Didn’t know what to do, I just had a stupid smile on my face, started laughing a little because I got nervous and he would just look at me. Couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just asked things that I already knew about him. That’s when I started thinking like “Wtf are you doing? Why are you smiling at him like that?”…

I don’t know, I kind of wish I met Derek instead of John. Maybe it’s also because of the age gap, or the ‘wanting what you can’t have’ situation. I don’t know if I can keep seeing John because I would be wanting Derek at the same time. Or should I just be straight forward and message Derek? Nah, that would be a big bitch move of me… Or should I just leave all of this behind?

Damn it.

Ex-Mother In Law

Just when everything seemed peaceful and in order, I received a phone call from a debt collector, saying that my ex-boyfriend didn’t finish paying something from the property we were living in together. Unfortunately both of our names were on the lease, which means that if the debt wasn’t payed on time, it would affect to both of our credits.
I, naively, called his mom, because there’s a no contact order between us, and as soon as she answered I told her that this was going to be an awkward phone call, but I was just letting her know, because I knew that he already had a bad credit and woulnd’t want it to get worse.

Well, the phone call didn’t go as expected, she started raising her voice at me, telling me how I fucked up his son’s life, how I was wrong on not accepting that he didn ‘t love me any more and that he was in love with someone else.
Really, Shawnee? I fucked up his life? It was all my fault? Wow!… I kept my cool, listened to what she had to say and answered ..
“Look, Shawnee, I didn’t call to cause any problems, on the contrary, it was just to let you know what was going on because I can’t have any type of contact with your son. Second, I know that he’s your son, and that you will obviously take his side and support him, believe me, I ain’t asking other wise. And last, both of us know what he did, but if lying to yourself makes you feel better, go ahead.”

After hanging up, a lot of things came to my mind…She was blaming ME for what happened to his son, she was blaming ME for all the money that has been spent since then.
Seriously, how ignorant can a person be… I was 1000 miles away, and my case passed, evidence was accepted and I didn’t have to be there in person to testify against him because they had MORE THAN ENOUGH. Just think about that tiny little note, Shawnee. All of this was caused by him, not me.

Have a good day.

 

Off we go…

So before hitting the road, I went to fill up the tank, get some air on my tires, an oil change and a quick check-up. Well, when I went to get my check-up, the mechanic told me that I made a good desicion on getting it done, I didn’t even take a look under the hood, because my radiator cap wasn’t there. It sucks to realize that the person you loved, maliciously, wanted to hurt you, to leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere…

I don’t even remember where my first stop was, if in Idaho or somewhere before that in Oregon. During that first night I called his mom to let her know what had happened, that I wasn’t going to press charges because I just wanted to get as far away as I could. She understood the position that I was in, actually, she understood it very well because she was in the same position I was in years ago with her ex-husband, my ex-boyfriend’s dad. His dad, an alcoholic, heroin addict, bipolar, schizophrenic. I can clearly remember how he would say that he has always been white trash, that he had worked so much to not be that type of person.

When I finally reached Utah, my car started failing, it was hella cold outside and my needle was fluctuating straightly to hot after every mile I would try to drive. I ended up staying four nights in a Super 8 Motel in a very small populated city, Tremonton. The bills were adding up, my funds were running out, and my desperation and depression were increasing by the minute. Every night, before going to sleep, I would have to do yoga and respiration excersizes to make my heartrate go down and stay down. My company on my slepless nights was a woman from the 24 hr Domestic Violence hotline. Sometimes the calls would consist of nothing, I just wanted some kind of company that knew exactly what I was going through, and she would bear with me every time I called.

 

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                                                                                                                                           Motel 6    Tremonton, UT

Third and Last Strike Pt. 3

While the policeman was talking to me, the policewoman was speaking with my upstairs neighboor. After both of them left, I heard my door knock and it was him, which I’ve only said hi twice in all this time living here. He came in and asked me if I was okay, I couldn’t hold my tears or my words in, I immediately started telling him everything, I felt, I don’t know, safe with him…this sense of tranquility. He just stood there and really listened to me, apparently he is a counselor for children that have been through some kind of abuse in their life’s, he left around forty five minutes later. I finished packing, finished organizing everything in my car, came back, stood in the middle of the living room and gave that apartment one last look. All the memories that were made in that place were played before my eyes as I was swipping from left to right, and it ended when my face was facing the door. I locked the door, even though there wasn’t no use for it because the glass was cracked right open. I got in my car, called my ex-roomate and let her know that I was on my way. When I got to her place, her roomates welcomed me with a comfortable silence in their cozy living room, she cooked something quick for me and her roomate gave me an inflatable bed to sleep in. Before passing out, I contacted his sister that lives in Temecula and told her about the situation, and that she should be there for him, because his brother isn’t really the best shoulder to lean on. She wasn’t surprised by his actions, she actually accepted that he has anger issues, but didn’t think it would “happen” to me because of how I was a positive change in his life. She also told me that he didn’t deserve me, that it was the right desicion to make for me to leave him and get to a place safe, that he had to confront the consequences for his actions. All of this was talked through Facebook Messenger, which later on helped as evidence for my case to pass and him to be 100% guilty.

At 6 am, I woke my friend, and said goodbye..got in my car and started driving off. Off to the middle of the United States, my ass was heading towards Omaha, NE once again.

Third and Last Strike Pt.2

My respiration was off, my heartbeat was up, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I grabbed everything that I gave him, all his clothes were thrown in the slimy trash can that was outside our apartment. I sent a message to that low life, Krystie Spears, telling her that she won, that it was fine, but that all of his crap was gone. He immediately came back, I was placing some of his belongings outside, by this time my roomate left because she had something to do.
While I was placing a box out of the door, I bent down and that’s when he kicked me behind my hamstring, I stood up and started walking, didn’t even give me a chance to shake it off when he threw me against the wall. Again, he left, and took what he could. I immediately called my friend and she said to hold on, that she was on her way. I kept packing my things when I received a phonecall from her ” He’s coming! He’s coming!” I asked her where she was and she told me that she was entering the alley, but that he was running towards my place, I dropped my phone and pthumbnail_FullSizeRender (1)ut myself against the door. He tried to unlock the door, noticed that I was there and started kicking the door until it cracked and he broke the glass that was there. I was
really scared, hoping that he would give up and leave, but the door wasn’t going to hold for much longer so I stepped back, let him in and I went outside where my friend was. She was standing outside her car, he started walking, flipped me off with his both hands, and pulled his pants down when he was across the street.
A little after was when the 911 call was placed by my friend, the harrassment and abuse wasn’t stopping, and it was clear that it wasn’t even near to an end. I waited patiently for the police to show up, it felt like an eternity. Two big police cars parked in front of my apartment and the interview with them started. After describing them a hundred times everything that happened, I was taken inside to strip down and have pictures taken of me where he previously and recently hit me. I could only keep thinking “Why is this happening to me? How did it come to this?”…