Risks are obviously called risks because there are varying degrees of bad consequences that can come from your actions.  Hopefully, the accompanying degrees of possible GOOD consequences match the degree of bad ones.

Risk vs. Reward, right?

I know I’m taking a risk simply by writing exactly what I think.

Why is this?

Like many other 30+ yr olds, I have responsibilities.  I have developed relationships based on those responsibilities, both personal and professional.  Professional relationships keep food on the table by the way gainful employment, amongst other things.  Personal relationships keep a home happy – or miserable.

I like to eat.  And I like the occasional moment of peace under my own roof.  I’ve had to remind myself at times that I used to want more.

How quickly life goals change, huh?

In the pursuit of said food and peace, I’ve learned to keep my damn youthful mouth shut, unless I accidentally make it way harder than necessary to achieve any of these seemingly simple goals.

Many young black males have been taught to fit in by keeping your thoughts to yourself and those like you.  We have enemies; and it’s best to simply not to shake trees.

Sooooooooo, now that I’ve actively chosen to shake that tree,

Here is the RISK:

  • I’ll jeopardize many existing relationships and lose a few acquaintances.  Some who know me personally will read this blog and be blown away;* totally surprised by the person they thought they knew.  Others who know me better, will know right away that its my true voice – no matter the subject.
  • Many posts will spur some conversations between my wife and I.  As she’ll no doubt one day take an interest in what the hell I’ve been writing about for so got damn long.  Who knows what that communication will lead to.
  • One day, I’ll probably get called into HR at my job due to some “image” issues.  Perception is reality, right?  It won’t be racial, but if you’re a black man in corporate america, you know EXACTLY what I’m talking about.  It will be perceived somehow that my opinions, or by divulging the facts of my life, it somehow makes me less capable of doing my job, but of course, that’s not true.  I’m good at what I do and I plan on continuing to do so.
  • More than a few people will type in large print that I’m a “BITCH ASS NIGGA” and other variations of less than masculine associated semantics, regardless of its racial indications.  Can’t wait.  Keep it coming.
  • More people than that will take apart every word I say and type, every incorrect comma and punctuation, every typo, and every chance to take something out of context.  These same people most likely will never acknowledge the actual content either.  Can’t worry about them.
  • Others will take my revelations about my life and my choices and use it to label me as one type of bad person or another.  It’s easier to condemn and demonize something with a bad title.  There’s no need to listen to a bad person, right?  They’re bad – so nothing of value can ever be truly learned from such an individual.  Boom.  Okay – got it, I’m the fucking devil.

On the other hand, the web’s reaction to my so-called 30yr life-crisis will most likely be: imgres-512-7686289

Go tell your “feelings” to Drake. That dude sounds like a good listener.

Most of my posts will be unbearably boring and insignificant to most readers, but still be significant to me if nothing more than for therapeutic reasons.  That’s the point.

Now Here’s the Reward:


Bold claim?  Sure.  Impossible claim?  Not at all.

The system is broken and I want to help fix it.  Step by step.  Post by post.  Just by having the audacity to be myself.  Then I want to leave this blueprint behind for others to follow.  We can ALL be successful.  I can’t wait to have the opportunity to show everyone how.


You won’t get it at first, but I guarantee you will over time.