Jrnl Entry No. 9.25.2003

So today is my daughter Janelle’s birthday. She is – years old. I called her early this morning just to say Happy Birthday really, not to talk like I usually do. Yeah, I remember when she was born. I thought I had life all figured out. I had a nice job working at Circle K Corporation, my first job out of college which it took me six months to find. I was making $25,000 a year, living with my mother, saving money, shopping a little, etc. I think I saved 5,000.00 in a year. Janelle’s mother went for child support and they awarded her $389.00 a month. She walked out of the court room happy like she’d just hit the lotto, maybe in an effort to try and piss me off. But I didn’t care cause even minus that amount, I was still bringing home more than I’d ever made before. I was still saving. With the decision to become a Hip Hop producer, I bought an ARS 10 Sampling Keyboard for $2,000.00 and starting making Hip Hop songs.

A little after that, my 1986 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight broke completely down and I had to buy a new car. I bought a brand new Chevy Malibu. After the car purchase, with payments and insurance, my pocket was low. At that point, I decided to really work on my move to New York City. I was two years in at Circle K; they had just given me a lateral promotion (meaning more responsibility with no talk of more money). Just as the change was about to take effect, I’d found me a job at this company in Brooklyn called The Italian Job, a mob spin-off legal business. I was making $34,500.00 which was only enough for my needs and bill responsibility; no money left to shop, go out, nothing. After about a year of that shit, I stopped paying my car insurance for a little extra cash, which ended up being dissolved by this new credit card I transferred to for a lower interest rate in exchange for higher minimum payments; $100.00 more a month. That’s what I get for not reading the fine print.

I really was starting to hate my job also, so much so that I stopped working because it seemed as if I was not doing anything important or learning anything. I got fired a week before the Sept 11, 2001 terrorist attack. After that, it took me six months to find another job. There were plenty of jobs out there it seemed; I went on 22 interviews before I finally got hired somewhere, which was at an advertising agency. It was a cool job, no dress code, open-bar on Fridays after work and friendly people for the most part.

I really learned my job after the guy who hired me left and this Italian lady came on board. She didn’t know what she doing so I had to learn the job with her. One thing I understood better than she was the EAS Accounting Software they had. After she and I came to an understanding of all the changes she wanted as far as my work went, she challenged every piece of work I did. When I met her challenges and began answering her questions before she asked them, she made up some bullshit to tack on to the official warning I received concerning my underperformance, according to her standard, and I was fired. I had her all figured out. Told myself, “Just do your duties, ignore her attempts to get on your nerves, and everything will be alright.” Everything was not alright. Now, I’m going on another six months of being unemployed but this time around, there aren’t many jobs out there. The economy is getting weaker by the week. I’ve only been on about five interviews.

I moved to New York to work as an accountant and to try to get work as a Hip Hop producer, neither, especially the Hip Hop production, are working out for me. If I wasn’t living with my girlfriend, I’d be on my way to being homeless right now. She thinks I eat too much salt and butter, and at age –, I’m on my way to a heart attack. I say to her, “what I got to live for?’ She says, “life is a precious gift.” She says that shit because just like me; at age –, she’s making $56,000 on her job; she’s able to take care of her daughter; she shops and buys expensive clothing; she’s doing, so it seems, better than her friends; she just moved from one room in the projects to a two bedroom apartment with nice wooden floors; and she just recently purchased equipment to start making clothing in pursuit of her dream to open a children’s clothing line store called Queen by Queen. She’s young and ambitious just like I was with the world ahead of her with her dreams.

Me, I’m starting to come to reality that my Hip Hop dreams may never materialize. I’m –; I have not a dime in the bank; my credit has gone bad; I ain’t got a job. So yes, what this life is presenting me right now is shit. What the world is presenting Watrina is sugar right now and probably for the future also. So she, in essence, would be saying some shit like, “life is such a precious gift.” Everybody says that shit when they are on their feet. I wanna hear a homeless New Yorker, on the street, in the cold of winter, say that shit. When I hear them say it, on the street, on a cold Christmas night, then maybe I’ll start singing the same song. But hearing that shit from people like Mary J Blige: who has millions of dollars, and has sold millions of records, and is so spiritually fulfilled now that she has a real man, not afraid of her success, who is gonna marry her; my response is, “shut the fuck up witt that bullshit.” Mary J wasn’t singing that same shit when was drinking, smoking, sniffing, and being in a relationship every other year with any male R&B singer who said hello to her. Lauryn Hill wants to accept grammy awards, preaching, “the money don’t matter, God matters.” This after the group she was in sold 13 million records of one album worldwide, making all three members millionaires. After that, three years later her solo album sold about 10 million worldwide, to make her more of a millionaire. When you’re a millionaire, the money don’t matter. When you have a good job making decent money, a beautiful intelligent daughter, and a nice apartment outside the New York City Housing Authority Projects, life is precious. My response to that shit is …….!

@BLK_PEEPSTOP No. 0

One night, Nov 9, 2012 4:00 AM, while expunging excrement from my body after having eaten a whole bag of Chips-A-Hoy chocolate chip cookies and four bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios, all with milk, while also high on an Ice Coffee – I usually do not drink coffee – I had purchased earlier from “The Pantry” on Decatur and Lewis Ave, after my two mile run around the Bedford Stuyvesant Brooklyn, NY block of Decatur and Chauncey Street between Lewis and Stuyvesant Avenues; I was reading a book, “Men Woman and Children” by Chad Kultgen. I thought the book to be true to average American middle class White American life; it was a dramedy and I was enjoying the read. It hit me, that while I already had a book in production which would take me years to finish, and just after hearing from my girlfriend I’d been involved with for 11 years (currently my fiancé as of this writing in 2013) (it’s currently 2019 and economics of it taking a Black American man twice/three times as long to find employment as a White American man, the relationship has dissolved.) through an emotional tumultuous relationship which had not culminated into marriage just yet, that I would be a good writer, a project which I thought I could finish very quickly as a book and maybe even a series of books came to mind.          

One day Oct 4, 2012 as I had come home from a morning run around Boys and Girls High School track in Bedford Stuyvesant Brooklyn, searching for a new employment position and dealing with covert (so they thought) discrimination of recruiting agencies as well as from individual company HR recruiters who all would call me at this time due to a great background and resume, but the moment they heard my voice – which I was not doing my job to disguise it to sound like Brian Gumble, defunct of any natural bass and/or Black inflections in his speech – and heard that I was a Black American man, it seems they quickly lost interest in speaking with me regarding Accounting Manager positions paying $85,000 – $110,000 even though I had 10 solid years of work experience, 5 at the last company I was employed. I had recently passed my Certified Public Accountants (CPA) examination, which I thought would boost my credentials as a job candidate, but companies all seemed to have no interest in finding me positions or hiring me.

A deep enmity for Corporate America and in tandem White America began to brew inside me. I began to despise my own race of people because I thought, due to their ignorant ethos, cultural shibboleths and ways of living, it was reflecting badly on me in the eyes of recruiting agencies and employers who took the chance to invite me in for a personal interview, but I was not receiving any offers.  On this night in October is when I came up with the Twitter name @BLK_PEEPSTOP (since then, no longer active) to expunge all of my thoughts about things Black American people do, don’t do, say, don’t say, think and don’t think which are either beneficial or detrimental to Black American people’s survival on American soil.

For it seemed to me White America and Corporate America had and have been discriminating against Black Americans blatantly in the early 60s and 70s and covertly during the 80s, 90s, 2000s and beyond; you’d think we’d get it by now and wean ourselves off of their placating, assuaging and coddling us, to become our own independent society who covertly (just as they do us) does not deal with or need them to survive. This charge was further exacerbated on Sun Nov 4, 2012 when I got my hands on a book called “Jerusalem 1913”, a story of how Zionist Russian and German Jews infiltrated Palestine in the early 1900s and took over the land to brew the boiling pot that cooks to this very day of Arabs having been pushed out of Jerusalem, fighting and bombing Israelites.

As I began to read my tweets, I thought that while some needed no further explanation, many others were not inexplicable and needed further analysis. So I started to write a book of my interpretations of the tweets. At the start of this book, there were 494 tweets directed at Black American people to infuriate them, educate them and hopefully get some discourse going of how we can become a better people. A few people started following me on twitter, but I quickly blocked them because I did not want any people of any kind, any organization following me; eventually, I came to the conclusion, I DID NOT WANT ANYONE FOLLOWING THIS TWITTER PAGE.

I addressed most of my tweets starting with: #blackpeople, hoping that would reach a number of them out in the tweet-o-sphere / Black Twitter, but that did not seem to be doing anything. I wondered if my tweets were getting blocked because they were too political or of a strong seditious nature. The first few days the tweets came to mind in rapid succession but quickly began to slow down. I surmised in my mind I was not doing this for followers, but to get this info out of my head and consciousness as I was talking to myself rather constantly on these particular issues because one can not readily verbalize these type of phrases or thoughts to Black American people without them getting very defensive or upset: as I tried many of times to disseminate some of these thoughts on my girlfriend and got into fervent discussions, she called them “arguments, which left her uneasy and losing sleep.”

My point to this whole project is that Black American people do not speak of such ills.  We sit silent while everything goes wrong in our culture, and we are used and abused by White American people of all backgrounds: Italians, Irish, Jewish, WASP, Germans, Russians, etc. Everyone seems scared to address particular issues.

But these are things I’ve reasoned with myself that need to be said directly to Black American people by Black American people.

There is a dichotomy of feeling in my writing, I’m a little jarred when other races of people talk about Black American people in this context, but when I speak on them myself, it seems I harbor many of the same ill feelings.  I think the difference is, I’m expressing these feelings hoping they will be erased and get better, but when other people of other races express these feelings, they are laughing at us with no hope that things will get better. My layout will be simple. I will post the tweet as written on twitter. I will then proceed to explain and articulate, as to what caused the thought behind the tweet and expound upon my direct reasoning and interpretation since twitter does not allow you to do such with just 140 characters.

Jrnl Entry No. 5.6.2004

All day I can’t find the motivation to do anything but sleep. I guess I feel depressed for not being at work, or thinking that my professional, corporate, 40 – 50 thousand dollar a year life is over, and now what? I have completely written a documentary which I would like to put into film production. I have a director in mind but I don’t know if I want to work with him, a corny white kid. But then I think, maybe a corny white kid is exactly what I need to get that shit off the ground, get some funding for it. And then again when I think about how I am being discriminated against in my search for a job, I don’t want to work with any white people period. I’ve gotten two request for telephone interviews. That shit is nothing but a way for them to try and tell by your voice if you are black or not, and once they hear that you are, they can at least say they called you, discussed your resume and decided not to give you a call back.

I tried finding part time work before. I went up and down 125th St in Harlem and handed out my resume searching for part-time work and got nothing. I applied at Eckard drug store right up the street from where I stay, and they didn’t call me back. I’ve been in the village looking for work at the Atrium and the Lounge and at the Guess store and at H&M. It seems as if no one is willing to hire a black man in New York. I guess niggaz have stolen so much from their employers that no one any longer hires us.

I figured that my accounting degree would save me from some of that discrimination in finding part-time work, but that has not been the case. They really don’t intend for niggaz to survive in New York I see. Even with a part-time job, it is not great living by any standard, and they don’t want to give a nigga that. I guess it is too crowded here and they figure if they don’t give niggaz the least of the jobs that maybe we will go away. I don’t know what to do. Watrina is complaining that she can’t buy clothing for her daughter and that she has no money. I can’t go to the studio without any money to start recording my album so that I can get this label started which I have incorporated. I need money to buy CDs to reproduce, and covers, and posters, flyers, stickers, and Vinyl press ups. I can’t make a move regarding this business unless I get a full time job making $40,000 or more and that seems nowhere in the near future.

I’m currently working on my business plan which seems to be coming out nicely written. Once I have it written, I don’t know what I’m going to do from there. I thought about presenting it to my cousin Romeo and his wife for a $5000.00 investment. But they be trying to act like they broke and I don’t 
know if they will give me the money. Once I have it fully written, I need to work on a presentation, which will take me probably a month or so. Time is running out for me. I have $45.00 to my name. If I was stupid I’d probably kill myself or start taking drugs. But I’m a so-called smart nigga, but not that smart because I don’t know what I’m going to do to get up out of this situation.

I seen Heather B of the 1st Mtv Real World in Jay Z’s club 40/40. She used to have a little rap career. I asked what I gotta do to get her to record a song for me. She gave me the brush off like I wasn’t serious,  handed me an e-mail address. I e-mailed her yesterday. I want this album to be a compilation album but I got 10 songs picked out that I can write and record myself if need be. I don’t think a bank or investors have ever given money to a Hip Hop label on the cold front. I have thoughts that maybe I can be the first to get official funding from a bank or group of investors if I present my business plan right. I don’t have an inkling of collateral , which will make money hard to come by. I don’t have prior industry 
experience to lead off of. All I got is strong determination to make my dream come true of getting into this Hip Hop shit somehow someway before I die.

In the next 10 years it is my goal to be a Hip Hop Label Mogul with millions of dollars in worth behind my name. By the time I’m –, I want to be doing it for real. In the next five years, I want to be at my peak in record sales for my label. I think that is a realistic time frame. I got about 4 and a half years from right now to make it happen, I feel so strongly that I know this Hip Hop shit like the back of my hand. No one is going to give me the opportunity to prove that so I guess I have to prove it to them as well as  myself.

I’m trying to wait this unemployment shit out, but it is getting hard. I set around all day like I’m in a prison cell with no TV or no entertainment. I often say to myself that I should have been a drug dealer 
who would either be successful with millions of dollars right now, or in jail. Hell, I went the straight route and I still feel like I’m in jail. I wouldn’t complain so much if I was actually in jail instead of in my house  not doing shit. It’s not that I’m even bored because I am not. I’d just rather be doing something else during the day than sitting in the house thinking about my music career, my job situation and my  label business plan and how I’m going to get money to start this business.

I often wish and dream that I’d hit the Mega Millions Lotto or just the New York Lotto; then all these bullshit worries will go away and I can concentrate on some new worries. I’m starting to get grey hair in my head. My dick don’t get as hard as it used to. My girlfriend is not as interesting as she used to be. All  she does is clean up, cook, tend to her daughter and sleep. I try to communicate to her that shit is not sexy to me, every time I see her she is washing dishes or folding clothes or on her hands and knees scrubbing the bathroom floors and walls. I guess I’m just going through a phase in life right now. I’ve had my peak in life during and after college; now is the downturn, where either a nigga goes crazy, gets a divorce, robs a bank, goes on drugs, or becomes an alcoholic. Me, I’m just trying to ride this shit  out. It’s not even that hard, I’m just tired of being patient that’s all. 


Some nights I don’t get in the bed until 5 A.M. I need to stop that shit because I know it is taking a toll on me and causing me to age. I know everybody has to age but I don’t wanna speed up the process anymore than Ihave to. Tomorrow is another day to feel lost. I told myself that I might go to Best Buy and put in an application there. Deep down in my heart, I did not come to New York to work part-time making $6 to $8 dollar. I may as well go back to Ohio for that shit. I came to New York to prosper, to get that push I need to actually get off my ass and get some real riches because you need them if you are going to live in this city. But New York has flipped the script on me. New York has me jobless, just dreaming. I guess that’s why they call it the Big City of Dreams. That is all that I am doing right now 
is dreaming. I don’t have no resources what so ever to make any of my dreams come true except a dollar to play the lotto, and everyone knows that is the biggest of pipe dreams that will never come true.

I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I try to think what to do and my mind draws a blank. I guess that is what my sleeping and sitting in silence during the  day is all about, trying to dig deep within myself to figure out a way to get out of this whole I’m in. But my efforts are coming up empty. I don’t know man, but I got to do something. This can’t be my life for the rest of my life. I will not let it be. I guess maybe I’ll have to start all over like I’m in high school, work a part-time job and turn tragedy into triumph. I hate to do it but going back to Warren, Ohio is not an option. New York is a perfect home 
away from where I grew up at, not that far away where I can’t visit, not that close where I’d be home every other week like I still live there. I got to make this happen for me, I got to!

Jrnl Entry No. 3.8.2004

I went to an employment agency today, Trandon Associates. I’ve been to this place like two times in my career of looking for employment. The place is total bullshit, at least, that is, for African Americans. Here is their routine. They have you fill out this little card with your name and employment history and post your resume behind it. They call you back to a little room where they mark down your qualifications. Now both times as I remember it; once five years ago when I was first trying to move to New York, and again today, they noted that I didn’t have charge back experience. So I’m figuring that must be the excuse they give to the black applicants they mistakenly call because they have regular American names. The lady says she had a position which requires charge back experience so they are probably not going to be interested in my resume, but they will contact me later if another position should happen to come up. Of course, I already know that I will never hear from Trandon Associates again. This also seems to be the case with the all the employment agencies in New York.

In my three experiences of looking for employment in New York City, visiting many agencies, only one has gotten me a position, and guess what the catch was to that agency: it was a British agency, all the people had British accents, had just moved from Britain to start this business in New York, and my guess is that oversees, they aren’t as racist and prejudice as the white Americans from the United States. I’ve gotten many calls from agencies, which all somehow, never got me any work after I went into their office, or they didn’t let me come into their office in the first place. 

Like this lady called me two days ago from Access employment agency. She says that she got my resume which interested her, and then she asked what salary I was looking for. I says $45,000.00 and she says the only position that she has available is for 40,000.00, but she still would like me to come in for a meeting. Now me, knowing these agencies, I said to my girlfriend, “this is another bullshit call from an agency” and I tell her the situation. My girlfriend tells me to call her back and say that I would not like to come in until she has something more suitable to my salary range and qualifications. She wanted me to call right away so that the lady would respect me more, but I said I would call her the morning of the meeting and tell her. My philosophy is that she does not respect me anyway.  She does not intend to get me a job anyway. My girlfriend says “you’re the one who is looking for a job, not her.” So I says “and she is not going to give me a job in the first place so it doesn’t matter.”  I called the lady today around 4:00 P.M. and tell her what my girlfriend suggested. The lady called me back an hour later and said that she would call me when she gets a position in front of her that fits my salary.

Another situation happened about two weeks ago. A lady called and e-mailed me from Gothem Search Group and asked me to give her a call concerning my resume. I called her back but did not leave a message because I know that once she hears my Black voice that she is not going to call me back as has happened before. I went out of town, and when I returned I had receive another e-mail as well as a voice mail message for me to call her. So I called her and explained that I had been out of town but I was back now and we could set up a meeting. At the sound of my black voice, she says, “I’m sorry, but we have many Michael’s on file, why are you calling, in reference to what, could you please send me your resume as a word document and call back.” I says, “I already sent you my resume as a word document 
when you e-mailed me the first time.”She asked me to send it again. I laughed and said, “O.K.” and hung up and sent her a message about her obvious discrimination. How are you going to e-mail me and call me twice and then when I call you back, you don’t know who I am?  This is the type well-hidden discrimination that I faced within my year of looking for employment in a tight economy. 

I’m seeing that 40 years later from the 60s and civil rights action, integration of schools, etc. that today in 2004, it’s the same shit. No one wants to see black people prosper or give us a chance. The economy is down and black people are the last people who are going to be employed and helped out. And even when the economy is good, we still get the same treatment. If these companies aren’t made to hire us due to affirmative action programs, they do not hire us, especially not in New York City. So I’m figuring that New York is not the place for me, but it’s the place that I want to be. No one, not even black people are trying to help achieve your goals and dreams. Everyone is selfish and dreaming to get theirs first before they even think about helping you get yours. I have been interviewing for a year now, and 
only a few interviews at that. I’ve gotten like five interviews and only one resulted in an offer for $34,000 which would grow to $37,000 with incentives. 

I just am not making it here. I’m living off of my girlfriend who likes to spend all of her money on her daughter, jeans, and expensive boots for winter. She’s covering me as far as a place to stay and food, but not leisure money. She claims that she is by my side, but I don’t think so, especially since I’m not working and my unemployment has run out and I have to ask her for any money that I need. I’ve tried going and handing out resumes for a part time position somewhere, but that is not working either. I  would like to work in a Hip Hop clothing store or one of those high prices foreign wear stores downtown like the Atrium or The Lounge, but they don’t seem to want to give a brother a chance either. I applied at Eckerd drugstore the other day and they seemed to brush me off with a “we are not hiring right  now.” I still applied and gave them my resume. You’d think that a little company would love have a college degree accountant working part time for their store, but knawl, it doesn’t seem to be the case in New York City.

I was thinking of trying to get some work as a security guard during the day. Right now I’m thinking of all the options I can to get some income in my pocket. If don’t find a job making $40,000 or more, I’m not going to be a happy man, as I already am not happy living here off of Watrina and her having the power over me knowing she can just kick me to the curb anytime and I’m out on my ass or back to Ohio, which I really don’t want to go back there. She has told me to get out a couple of times because I ain’t going to be no bitch ass walking around here treading water. Like I showed her when the New Year hit and we had an argument, If worse comes to worse, I’ll just move my ass to Atlanta and stay. And the next time I am forced to go there, I will stay there.

So I’m just now starting to study to take the GMAT exam to get into graduate school. One thing about graduate school is that I don’t want to get into debt and have to pay it back when I start working again, starting out in debt, leaving me where I once was. I was full of debt with rent, my car payment and utilities and I had no money left to live. I don’t want to go back to that shit. I have a few good looking pictures that Watrina took of me three years ago. I’m going to take them to a few modeling agencies and see what they say about representing me. I kind of feel that I don’t really have model looks, just a handsome look for a man my age. I feel like I have a deep smile wrinkle line on each side of my face and my cheeks are starting to droop a little. You know, just getting old, not that old, but seeing and feeling the effects of — years on this earth. 

I wrote a documentary about Puffy’s revolution of Hip Hop that I have sent off to be copyrighted. I want to incorporate my production company named for my mother, my grandfather (R.I.P), and grandmother (on her death bed as I write this) “Leann, Michael & Ella” Productions respectively. And for those dumb fucks who don’t know what “respectively” means, it means that the name of the production company matches the order of the relatives I mentioned before it. I want to incorporate the production company for the documentary to be under and also for my music production company to be official to receive checks and write expenses off against, etc. 

I have scanned “The Only Child” Logo into the computer and designed a CD cover with it. I have dreams that I could use that Logo as a strong marketing tool. To me it seems noticeable, memorable, and marketable. I see it printed on T-Shirts. There could be different versions of the T-Shirt, each one with the Logo printed in a different place; just simple T-Shirts with the Logo in different places each time. They could become collector’s items. And the name “The Only Child” also seems powerful to me and memorable: simple and unforgettable. If I had the money, I would start the whole campaign. I would go ahead and record my album.

I got skills in rapping I feel I really do. But at the same time, I do feel that my rhymes do have a little old school flavor to them like my friend J Johnson and my girlfriend Watrina used to always say when I first started writing raps again like two years ago. But this nigga Kanye West is inspiring me. If he can have a whole album out and it sells 400,000 in the first week, I can release an album and at least create a name for myself in this music industry. But I don’t have money so I don’t know what I am going to do about putting out my album and starting a record label. I feel that I have the knowledge and know of these streets to run a label. I know all the flaws of the current labels that are out right now and are failing to make hits and losing their distribution deals.

I have an idea to put together a business plan and take to a label like Def Jam to have them sponsor me and once I create enough buzz for my name, I will sign with them. The good catch to that is that they don’t even have to give me money, they can pay for my beats and have artist use them on their albums. I don’t think anyone has ever done that; propositioned a label to sponsor their pre-career so that in turn they could sign with that label. And since I’m about to be out of professional accounting work for a year and will have to take some shitty job that I don’t want, I will definitely be motivated to put some of these ideas into motion.

I’ve been trying to get my album recorded for the past six months but the guy whose studio I go to is jerking me. I’ve only recorded three songs in six months and that is no good. I need to move faster than that, I can move faster that but he is slowing down my progress. I don’t have the money to go to any other studio.

MONEY, I so tired of that fucking word. NO MONEY I DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY. If I had this MONEY I would do this; if I had that MONEY I would do that. FUCK ! No money, no job. This shit is ridiculous. I think I would rather be dead. That is one reason why I didn’t want to have any children, putting them in this world to go through all this bullshit without a single advantage in the world. If my life continues like it is, I won’t be able to help my daughter with shit just like my parents didn’t help me with shit: no house, no car, no money, no business knowledge or any other knowledge. Having kids is some selfish 
shit on the part of women just to make them happy. With my life right now, I’d rather not been born. This life is bullshit!

Jrnl Entry No. 4.21.2004

I’ve incorporate my production company named for my mother, grandfather and grandmother, Leanne, Michael & Ella Productions Inc.” I received the incorporation papers in the mail; I filed for federal and state S Corporation status; I’ve read into what state taxes have to be paid, as well as taxes to be paid once I hire employees and my payroll reaches more than $300 per quarter. I’ve started working on my business plan, which I’m stopped dead in my tracks because I need market research and facts as to the 
buying habits of the Hip Hop community. Official market research studies, which can be purchased from Market Research.Com for $200.00 to $5000.00, money which I don’t have. I figure I’ll go the library and look up some in Billboard magazine and they should give me some sales information and future predictions concerning Hip Hop music, which I need for my business plan.

So the main project that will be sphere headed by my company are a Documentary which I have completely written, and need to get a director to film and edit and help me get financing based upon realistic cost projections. I have also planned my album, which it looks like I am going to have to write myself. I have ten good songs that I would like to record, and I’m going to include five instrumentals. Once I get it recorded, which shouldn’t be a problem, I need financing to market and promote the album.

It is becoming quite clear to me that an accounting job is nowhere in my immediate future. I’m living 
off of table scraps right now as far as money goes. I’m constantly thinking about this company that I want to start and be successful. I read Donald Trump’s new book “How to Get Rich,” which really had nothing to do with telling you anything about getting rich. I’m glad I didn’t purchase it. I read it in two days at the Barnes and Nobles book store on Broadway. The book did kind of tell you to have passion about any business that you are running especially if it’s your own. Along with that passion, know every 
little detail possible about that business. You have to work hard because no one is going to work harder than you to make you rich. The book was sort of inspiring but really had no good details concerning gaining and keeping wealth.

So as it is now, I spend approximately 3 to 4 hours a day reading something to broaden my business knowledge or writing my business plan. That time to me is really not enough, but I’m stagnated because I don’t have any real money to really start doing anything as far as business goes. I mean without money, what can I really do beside plan and write down ideas. I need money to make them tangible, but all in all, I’m excited about Leanne, Michael & Ella Productions Inc. and working to make it into a major label, or at least getting it to be a major force in the music industry to be recognized.

I’ve thought about acting and modeling but getting into those professions will probably be as hard as getting into Hip Hop, which I haven’t been able to get into Hip Hop, which is why I’m seriously starting 
my own company. Here I am –, I have nothing but dreams. I need to get more serious about taking the GMAT test starting MBA courses in the fall. As far as I see, that is the only real step that I can take to secure me an aiiight future. Yeah, I know they say work hard at your passion and it will come to pass. While I have faith in my passion, my dream will slowly materialize, and too slow for my life. If I was — or younger and in my current situation, I’d be fine, probably run with it. But I’m — living with and off of my girlfriend and that is not cool.

I saw Denzel Washington yesterday in the Village on Broadway and Prince. I recognized him trying to be very incognito. I just calmly walked in front of him and the two men who were lazily body guarding him in an effort to keep his presence incognito; I extended my hand out to him, he looked at me and he extended his hand back and we shook.  I’m not a star struck individual. At age –, I know that celebrities are real people just like I am who happen to be a bit more fortunate than myself, to be living there dreams. I only make it a point to speak to those celebrities that I admire their work and their career. Like I seen Eric Sermon of EPMD walking past me in Joe’s Pub night club and I shook his hand. I’ve seen Dana Dane twice on different occasions, and because of his legendary status (one of the, probably the 1st solo MC to have gold album sales), I have to extend my hand out to him every time I see him.

I don’t know if I’m cut out for this relationship that I am involved in. It’s a cute little arrangement I have here. The perfect little light skinned attractive woman whom everybody likes. She has the perfect little 
light skinned daughter that everybody like. Her daughter and my daughter get along really well. I’ve even known her daughter since she was like 2 and a half, the only other man in her mother’s life besides her father. I feel an obligation to be in this for the long run. I used to feel love about the situation, but that love was damaged by a too close for comfort friendship she had or has with another man. In addition to that, she does not trust me. I feel like every time I tell her something as far as me going somewhere without her that she feels I am lying and going somewhere else. I don’t like the feeling of not being trusted. She also tries to do things that I do like if I stay out all day and all night without calling, she’ll do the same thing the next day or in the near future. I don’t call her because it seems 
like she private investigates what I tell her. If I don’t tell her anything, there is nothing to investigate. Denzel said on The View this morning that his marriage works and has worked for 20 years due to trust and patience. I do not think neither of us has trust nor patience. I know I don’t have patience for anything that is making me unhappy, and as I’ve done before, I’ll leave it alone quickly and start something else.

So I’m — and having this conversation with myself. I thought I was a gentle man, and that I would be in a successful loving relationship and happy. But it is not that way for me. But compared to most people, I think my relationship woes are light. I guess I’m looking for perfection and that is not possible. I kind 
of think I might end up alone, well not alone no time soon, but just in old age alone, not married for 20, 30 years and dying with someone as my long loved wife. My future is not bright right now. I have high hopes though. I did have a job interview last Friday with a British company called Financial Times. It seems like a cool company that I could grow with; I want to work for them. It was a British woman who got me hired at the Advertising agency two years ago. Maybe Brits are the only people who are not subjecting me to discrimination that I believe other companies and employment agencies are subjecting me to. I’ve been jobless for a year now. Many agencies have called me but no job has resulted. I thought I’d never feel the effects of being a black man, but now, sad to say, I believe I am right now in New York City.