Disclaimer: This is a rant and personal development process. Thank you.

Am I not good enough to accept it and let this pain go? It’s bothersome to mind my own business until silence strikes with a vengeance.

When we first met oh, I had butterflies fluttering throughout my gut. However, I had a wall higher than Mount Everest. I didn’t want to get hurt or disappointed while dating a potential lifelong partner.

Time passes by quite quickly. Before we knew it, we had a baby together– our first son. After the pregnancy, we were at our wits end, hoping the pandemic wouldn’t affect how we view each other during lockdown.

The day I chose not to take my antidepressants who’s also the day we were expecting another bundle of joy. During that pregnancy we experienced frequent extreme situations that called for some form of legal action. Unfortunately, justice wasn’t served and before we knew it the baby came.

Each pregnancy had their ups and downs, including the awkward turnarounds. Although each journey was special, I still have problems processing certain situations that I should have spoken up within that moment with poise, accuracy, and dignity.

My husband and I work a lot in our own niches. He is more of a musician, traditional worker, digital entrepreneur, and an active streamer. I’m usually at home reading, writing, and studying for my college degree while parentally tolerating our kids.

You see, a bundle of greatness when we work together.

What bothers me at this moment is I’m forcing myself to move forward but my subconscious is holding me back. Thankfully, I am almost two months back verses a year and a half plus an extra hour.

Since my husband works with other musicians, I almost have to accept the fact he may work with other females. On the surface I’m fine with it. However, deep down I’m not.

I’ve always wanted to sing naturally, and sound like those pretty women that can shut down their own venue, allowing their voices to penetrate through the concrete walls. Hell, or write a magnificent song with strong lyrical inspiration, captivating when you read it while listening to the audio.

Unfortunately, I can’t sing.

I can’t write anything that’s good enough to capture anyone’s attention in the music industry. Even if I were to run into artists that wants more of an authentic touch, reaching beyond the human soul, it’s not good enough.

Occasionally, my mind falls backwards, pitting me against my own bitterness. Again, he didn’t do anything wrong. I guess I’m not good enough to fit anywhere within the creative aspects of writing.

Recently, I am in the process of changing my degree to Bachelor’s of Arts in Digital Film (Screenwriting). There are two reasons for doing so, which I thought would trigger a dramatic “wow” response from my husband.

My first reason is to tap into a hidden passion of seeking professional attention and entertaining the audience my way. I have thousands of creative works and quirks to stimulate my audience. Screenwriting may introduce me to other like-minded individuals and professionals.

The second reason I chose to switch my degree is to support my husband’s temporary idea of creating a movie. I mentioned and lightly stress the word temporary because he has a lot going on, and I feel I’m the only one making actual progress to sharpen my craft and truly understand the industry of production and deliverance. Still, I’m also doing this for him.

The reason he is my second in command push for change because I really want him to notice me. True, all he knows is me creating interesting art for his music, halfway tap into my blog to see additional artwork, poetry, or personal writings I’ve made accessable to the public, and stay on top of important little bills in our private lives.

However, I really want him to notice me the same way I notice him in his craft. Hell, the game Mobile Legends: Bang Bang defined major aspects of our lives in translucent ways. He probably isn’t aware of my competitive edge, but after watching him play while I ran away from the battle, I noticed that he’s quietly reviving pieces of my personality.

Much appreciated I should add! 💜💙💜💙

When he shows me his new songs, I immediately get excited. Certain ones, I bounce off the wall and encourage the kids to do the same. Other songs he and several others produced, it stimulates the auditory side of my ASMR. This triggers an active imagination while having deep satisfaction of listening to different voices and/or articulation styles.

Personally, I favor the tonality of Daniel Sima’s voice in Twin Jets by Iann Darcy and Daniel Sima. The chorus immediately stimulates my ears, drawing me into the song more just to enjoy the audio.

I can care less about the lyrics.

Another song that immediately stimulates my mind is Back it Up from the Broken Boi Tingz album. Each individual artist implements the kind of aggression through their articulation and verbiage. Simply put, I love how they’re able to connect to another person’s hidden aggression, frustration, or the wild side in their subconscious or physical daily life.

Don’t get me wrong, some of the lyrics come off as questionable to me. I’m saying this openly because I don’t “fuck bitches”, even if they’re imaginary or figuratively speaking to suit the social stigmatization in the rap culture. Plus, I truly don’t agree with giving an audience what wants, especially if they can type in whatever they want and get it somewhere else.

This does come off as a double standard because parts of my blog is dedicated to you guys, my shared post fanatics and my silent lurkers. However, there’s not one time you would read a post and I deviate from being myself– which is a cussing mom with a lot of loving children and a supportive 👑 King.

When I listen to my husband’s music, I tap into the lyrical instead of the overall theme of the song itself. Meaning, I listen to the words he uses, decoded and silently proofread it, then fall into a never ending meticulous satisfaction.

He’s intelligent to me, more than he gives himself credit for. So when he shows me anyting, I don’t listen to what he’s trying to portray himself as but deeper into the psychological aspect of who he is as an artist in a misrepresented African-American man. I love his creations the most because his style of writing is different from mine, but it still attracts quality listeners and authentic publicist that want him to strive for better.

Even if he chooses to go a different route, I would continue to support him aggressively and openly. The world fails to hear his concrete decisions, and I feel through his music and business transactions many people will understand a piece of who he is in public and behind closed doors.

After saying all of this, I’m not so self-conscious about some of my talents. Although I’m trying to brighten my day, I still see the rain crashing onto my page.

Two months ago we discussed different creative add-ons that’s currently up for consideration. He mentioned adding a female vocalist to a few of his songs.

For some reason I could only approach his ideas through bittersweet motion. On the outside, I’m happy for him and his ideas. Deep down, within my psyche, I don’t think I’ll view my world the same.

I feel nothing’s sacred anymore, no matter how much right you try to do. At the end of the day, people will do whatever they want. In this case, he shown me at that time that he is who he is… And he’ll do mostly what’s in his best interest.

After we talked about it, I immediately jumped on iWriter and began writing for clients who needed juicy erotica. Why bother following the rules if they’re only going to get broken? Besides, these clients will take my name off of it and sell it as their own work anyway. I view this the same way he viewed me at that time when he “forgot” about my suggestion of being a female vocalist.

It doesn’t matter if I’m pregnant, handicapped, or disillusioned about my surroundings… I want what you have, which is creativity, representation, and creative attention. Selfishly speaking, I don’t get enough of it at home. Quietly, I shy away from working on anybody else’s projects, academic proofreading, artwork, or figuring out how to create an animated video for an already published song.

My ultimate question, why bother doing it for anyone if I barely get that attention at home or when I am a contracted writer?

Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks and released all of my pending erotica work back to the query.

Eventually, the right person will notice me.

The purrfect audience will provide what I’ve been seeking since 2017– constructive criticism and opportunities to excel what I’m really good at.

I should not take my frustration, hurt, in pain on my husband. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a little bit upset, but I am also trying to go through each day more appreciative than yesterday or the week before. I stopped looking for appreciation through those at home and other people. Instead, I am creating my own voice and platform that’ll allow those to express how they feel about my word, where should I improve, and more.

Everyone has social media.

I have a blog and my own digital domain. Here, I can dictate who I want to be, where I want to be, and what can I post that satisfies my own taste buds.

This is just one out of many emotions I’m still processing. However, while I preach the craving of attention in a business and creator aspect, my relationship reigns over everything. My family comes first, no matter how crappy I feel.

So, to my beloved Journal, please serve a decent digital purpose in that pose as another placeholder. To those that are reading word for word my emotions on a tiny mobile screen, thank you for your time.

Side note: I intentionally did not include links to the mentioned albums and songs. I think I share enough of that already throughout my site and the art I make. If you’re curious about who Iann Darcy, Daniel Sima, or Supreme Being Zociety©™ (also known as SBZ and SBZ YSB), check out my Instagram and Spotify, or lurk on YouTube.

Until Next Time…