he had been a friend of a former girlfriend of mine who met each other in summer camp when they were in high school.

because i met her a few years after that our paths never crossed.

he was a deep thinker, extremely successful, humble, and we respected each other.

‘how do you define a Friend,’ he asked me, turning the tables.

we were in his beautiful home and i said that i remembered being in a courtroom once and a lawyer was cross examining a witness of a violent crime.

the lawyer was trying to prove the witness was unreliable because he had called the assailant a friend. in a cruel display, he asked the witness, who was homeless, why he thought the other man was his friend.

i dont know, he said, obviously not wanting to be tricked by this educated lawyer.

had you two ever broken bread together? the lawyer asked.

broken bread?

eaten together. had you two ever had lunch or dinner together? the lawyer said indignantly.

no, the homeless man admitted.

have you ever been to each other’s house, the lawyer asked in the lowest blow ive ever seen in a courtroom.

objection, the defense lawyer said.

i’ll allow it, said the judge.

no, the homeless guy said looking down.

and ever since then i thought that was an interesting pair of tests. have you been to each other’s place is a lot higher bar than have you omg broken bread because at the workplace you eat lunch all the time with coworkers even though you wouldnt really call them friends.

the man who owned the house liked that story.

he then said, so what defines your close friends, and i dont mean girlfriends.

close friends? people who really know you?

and i said, if they know about the xbi.

xbi, he asked? did i see that on your license plate.

you certainly did.

what is it?

lol, i said, ask my close friends.

well give me a hint, he pressed further.

i said, anyone who know my relationship with the xbi knows, for example, that it’s useless to lie to me. and they’d never do it.

hmmm.

and that could be one reason they remain close to me.

afterwards i ordered a bacon egg and cheese biscuit at mcdonalds but the kid gave me two sausage mcgriddles, something i’d never had before and it wasnt bad.

things are being done.

im fixing things. i am making progress. i am learning.

i am growing. it is not always easy. sometimes it hurts.

sometimes it’s good.

i feel like ive jumped out a plane with no parachute

but

if i splat, i splat but i dont think so for some reason

things are coming a lot.

i was getting ready to go to the bank tonight as i was on the phone with my mom

it was late at night.

she said, why are you doing this late at night with the homeless and the crime

and all these very scary things.

and i said

in so many ways

i am the scary thing.

xbi do or di

which is a good thing and a scary thing, but mostly good.

i cant wait to tell you about them, but i have always wanted to be such a different person than who i am.

i want to be the type of man who keeps everything secret. i watch Tony Soprano and he wont even tell his crew what he is up to.

when he gets on the phone he talks about “that thing of ours.” without revealing a damn clue.

im good with other people’s secrets, but for me im a huge blabbermouth.

why? am i looking for approval? do i want everyone to love me? i know hardly anyones gonna love me.

maybe because it’s front of mind. and when im on a project that i love i’m consumed by it.

well this next thing is gonna be an all encompassing bon fire of earthly delights, thats all i gotta say

and when it’s time to really get into great detail, trust me, you’ll be notified properly.

just know that what im fixin to do is risky, but if it ends up being what im planning on it being

it could be a literal life saver.

and thats what the xbi is alllllll about.

for some reason i still have friends inside the xbi

one of them ESPed me last night as I was at the Foods Co off Hoover

What are you doing there?

shopping.

Are you poor now?

ahahah shut up. whats going on bro.

Dude have you been having brutal headaches lately?

yep. for about three weeks.

Well I ran across someone’s screen and they’ve been pummeling you with vicious amounts of pain. What have you done to them?

same old same old.

But, like what spawned all of this? Who did you piss off?

hell if i know. last year i slowed down on my blogging. i thought they’d like that. maybe it’s because i have a girlfriend now?

Why did you do that?!?!

man can’t live on bread alone.

True. True. So what have you done to counteract the onslaught? You should be a mess right now.

easy, ive been doing the one thing they know nothing about.

Meditation?

LOL!

What?

i just told you.

I didn’t get it.

laughter. does anyone remember laughter?

Are you serious?

it’s the best medicine. and it works. it shines light on the darkness. and best of all it’s contagious. you should try it someday.

Oh and put myself on their radar? No. Thank. You. I will quietly toil away trying to do as little as possible until I can find a way out of here. 

that’s cool. i’ll be over here with a pretty girl, drinking pop, laughing whenever possible.

And being barraged by headaches?

the more you laugh, agent, the less strength their negative vibes affect you. not sure why. don’t care why. but i gotta go, ive probably said too much.

and then i bought some avocados.

i can be very mean sometimes.

i try to hold it in. i do. i am a Libra.

but i am also on the Scorpio cusp so that tail is always moving, always wagging, always looking to

sting.

and when it strikes i feel bad because in my heart all i want are the hippie things: peace and love

i never want to use my superpowers for anything other than to make magic

and to help people feel wonderful,

but sometimes someone will cross the line.

how are they supposed to know that the xbi taught a few of us to read minds.

how are they supposed to know that their lies trigger a sound only we can hear.

how are they supposed to know the real reason i shave my head and wear a cubs hat.

i warn them by driving a car that says xbi right on it

i write about it all the time.

and still they treat me like i dont have this curse.

a black kid in an all white school will never be normal which is why they recruited me and made me

the polar opposite of normal.

even less normal than i was gonna be.

i did and do everything to balance the scales, i dress like poop i eat like poop i let the belly grow

i mispronounce misspell watch tmz read twitter and dont read books

i try to fit in but theres no fitting in because even in a facebook message i can tell when youre full of shit

and that tail will come out

and i dont miss.

she says you should write a book and i say baby youre reading it.

sometimes i dont know who to be. sure you’ll say be yourself but

no, you cant be yourself. because yourself might be someone who honks at someone when they cut you off.

and then yourself might be someone who flips that person off after they slam their brakes on you.

and then yourself might be someone who, when invited to join the bad driver into a home depot parking lot

ACCEPTS THE INVITATION

in life we are sometimes lured into that very same trap and if you’re being yourself

you just might fall for it, but if you are being the person you have been trained to be

you politely pass and go on with your day.

my day started with that bad driver. it was 8am. i was driving amber to pop physique. and then i was off to the annual nominees luncheon where i was to create an Instagram Story to our 1.4 million followers.

i wasn’t able to get much sleep the night before, but there i was seriously considering being a tad late for work to remind one BMW driver that the person who they cut off, brake check, and flip off

might be a former xbi agent, who foolishly thought that if he got those plates would send enough of a message to the jerkoffs on the streets to reconsider. but no. twas i who was the fool.

did my thing at the beverly hills hilton. met some people. chatted with my old boss. didnt make a misstep.

until i returned back to the office where i had to do some extra. and it was there that your hero hit a wall.

ran outta gas. threw in the emotional towel. ran out of blood sugar.

and made some mistakes.

then on the text message machine, was short with amber, because i was trying to concentrate, and wires were crossed, so we met at the grocery store. and over paid.

then went to the taco house. and the lady only spoke spanish and thought i said 6 tacos when i meant 2.

so i was all, whatevs, lets give 4 to the homeless. so i drove to this gas station. amber popped out. i said give him my giant mexicoke too.

dude goes I DONT WANT YOUR DAMN TACOS, but she convinced him.

but then he got up and marched from the bus stop bench to a pay phone.

placed the bottle on top of the phone and i left him in the dust cuz i was all, that fools gonna launch that bottle at us.

and i didn’t want him to see my magnetic shields in action.

and god knows who else.

so we zoomed before it got close.

i said, just lets get home in one piece.

then amber said i got us tickets to a show in new york.

and i was all, new york city?

pace picante sauce?

and i am so tired.

sooooooooo

it said im a nightmare to live with.

it showed a long list of girlfriends ive had or quasi gfs or loves or lusts or flings or things or or or

and it said that with each and every one of them i was the prime example of bait n switch

pretty on the outside, ugly closeup.

im a slob, i fart, i wear the same things over and over and over. i pass out unexpectedly, even though no drugs or alcohol are around.

i cant cook, clean, im not well read, i grammar bad and for some reason im as demanding as can be

but worse, i pretend that the poor women learn the ancient skill of mindreading.

even though i am not one to live up to many promises, i insist that they keep theirs.

even though i constantly change my mind about things, i steam when they call audibles.

theres baseball cards in here, photos of others, letters from others, gifts from others

how is anyone supposed to feel special in this bachelors pad of boobie traps?

white socks everywhere and smells smells smells

closets packed with nick nacks, freezer stuffed with cheese.

the xbi insists that no agent should have a significant other but mama mia how is this the only rule i dont break?

and then theres the cubs.

and the weird hours.

and the secret trips to the hidden lair.

it just aint fair.