My dearest Pot, I am nothing without you. Please come home. Love, The Black Kettle

These people are responsible for it all. Every moment of happiness, joy, doubt and everything in between. They are my creators. Not only could I not exist on a physical plane without them, they are my supporters and my friends, I could not exist on any plane without them.

My brother, my best friend and inspiration, with the product of the two most amazing people I know.

Hey, remember me? The girl who loves to write? Yeah, neither do I. A fucking distant memory, that girl. The faint memories I have; however, consist of her rambling constantly on a blog with no followers, while at the same time keeping a constant stream of 4-bar rap lyrics on tap. Where the fuck did that bitch go? HAS ANYONE SEEN MALIBU???? I know they have Amber and Silver alerts, but can someone seriously put out a fucking WOODROW BLUE ALERT? How is it possible that verbal and/or literary creativity can elude one so? Well here we are folks, the apocalypse of my verbal mind. So much has transpired in my life since last I publicized it, but so little has made it's way from my (sub)conscious to existence in the form of writing. I have transgressed, regressed and then subsequently progressed. I have experienced times of complacency which lead to times of indecency ultimately leading to a time of contentment. I have undergone loss and experienced the most precious gains. The gains of a life already in existence, the one that is meant to coexist with mine. As well as the gain of a new life. A new, and most incredible gain. A new human with whom I share blood. These times have been tumultuous to say the least. At the end of the day, these times have been the ones that have been the most integral in my life. The times where "the rubber meets the road" and "the tough get going". Well I am tough, fuck rubber, show me the road and I will meet it kindly. These times have been the ones in which I should write. Now I have a deadline. Now I sit here writing a blog. Now can I write something to say on stage that could resonate with y'all? C'mon, Malibu, take that pen and put it on your proverbial road. Get. Fucking. Tough.

Tick tock, bitch.

The beautiful woman who stands by my best friend, my sister, my Belle, with my Baby Belle.

This is my Love. She knows what she does. That sounds bad and possibly sexual, but seriously, she knows what she does.

You are everything I never knew I always wanted. This is who keeps me smiling every second of every day.

This is what perpetuates my writing in the now. I wrote before for my home, my Gun Lake, and my family, I still write for them, but now I have additional inspiration, now I am gaining drive, now I am driven.....by the desire to tell my story myself, and by the desire to facilitate another artists desire to tell their story and to realize their dream. Now I want everyone to desire the dream to hear the story that the music tells, that the artist recites, that hip-hop evokes.  Bob your head, feel the beat, write your own song, let it take you where you are supposed to go.