I’m on St. Ma’arten for five(5) more days and I’m starting to get paranoid. No Black man in America has spent this many consecutive days in paradise. Not even Jay-Z and he is ’bout that yacht lifestyle.
I’m not ready to be the most h8’d on. I know I act like that sometimes, but I’m just like every other person who is secretly a sucker for love. Even when I’m looking at the clouds in the sky I get photo-bombed by a Ms.Fat Booty.
This is why I’m so so paranoid about my return to NYC. The universe stays conspiring for me to succeed, even with the people who consistently block that path.
The key for me is to be like this little clamshell crab pictured below.
Dude is rocking his hardhat and he just keeps it moving. He’s undeterred by the bullshit beating him in the head.
That is until some motherfuxer decides to fux with him and have him for lunch.