The Mind: A Terrible Thing to Waste & A Horrible Place to Live

:::: Being inside your head is a terrible place to be. And living there is synonymous to a dangerous neighborhood.

Here’s why: Because the mind has a mind of its own. It’s a rational organ that is fueled by thoughts and ideas, and its job is to process only. No feelings involved. That’s what you have your heart for. Living in your thoughts could poison your passions and dreams. I fell victim to this unknowingly and it costed me a great deal of opportunities, blessings, and other great experiences, not to mention growth in my personal life in friendships and relationships. I couldn’t enjoy certain things because it had to be a certain way in order for me to be sure that the outcome would be how I had pictured it. The reason being is because I developed a hunger for wanting to get things right the first time, and allowed the level of uncertainty of the outcome to deter me from moving forward with a lot of things. To put it plainly, whenever I met a challenge that I couldn’t see myself conquering, I’d simply go the other way. As a result, I began trying to live up to the expectations of others, placing too much value in the perception of me from others rather than the perception of myself & living up to that. Being a person with high expectations, I’ve realized that I’ve set a bar too high for myself that I couldn’t reach and lost sight of who I was- or, AM- in the process. I began not being able to handle the simple things, like “loving criticisms” if you will, because the tough skin I thought I had became sensitive to the slightest things. And all because I didn’t have control of my own mind and I allowed it to run around like a bad kid outside running the streets with no shoes on.

Well, people. I have found the opening to this box I’ve placed myself in. And it took for me to get into a car accident yesterday to finally get it (no worries, I’m ok!). I asked God for a sign, one that I wouldn’t miss. Something I wouldn’t mistake for him and one that I would get right off the bat (that’s my controlling side). As I was going to pick up the lunch my department ordered, I hit someone while coming to the light. Listen. I hit them HARD! My car jerked back. When I got out to check on the couple, I chose not to look at our cars until I knew they were ok. They were smiling thankfully. We each got out to analyze our cars. I looked at my bumper – No scratches or dents. My initial thought after that was, “wow, I’ll forever be a Chevy customer then! This car is durable!”. I looked at their back end. Again, nothing. It was if there was no accident at all. After everything was over, I continued on to pick up our lunch. Once I calmed down, I began to question thinking “Ok, sooooo, what was the point in that? What THAT the sign? If so, that’s not what I was looking for and what am I supposed to make of it anyway.” It didn’t done on me until two hours into a phone conversation with my Mom Mzz TLove​ that it made sense – You don’t know what the outcome is going to be and sometimes it may turn out better than you expected. Even when you don’t see how and clear evidence may show that the end result should be X.

I say all that to say that I’m moving out of my mind into a better place in my heart and learning to be ME in this world. The architecture of this place is much prettier and the neighborhood it’s in will allow me to go out and sit on the porch and enjoy the scenery without the worry of getting shot by one of Life’s gang members.

So, allow me to re-introduce myself. I’m Tami Taylor. Nice to officially meet you.

Un-fit: When You’re Just A Regular Person

I turned 30 less than a week ago. You wanna know what changed?

Not a damn thing.

I had this idea that I’d change my look on birthday. Ha! I’m still rocking this natural.

My goal was to be 30 pounds lighter by now.*side eye* Yeah, I’ve lost 5 un-noticeable pounds so far.

The funny thing is that I didn’t really give a real effort to try to achieve any of these things. The moment I felt myself making a move towards it, I’d stop myself once a thought entered my mind that instantly talked me out of it. It didn’t dawn on me until I realized that nothing of what I aspired to do was really me; but simply a trend trying to work itself out through me. In other words: I was only doing what I saw. I apologize for the wordiness. My new goal in turning 30 is to try to get to the point a lot faster and use less words. I guess you could call me considerate of other people’s time. Or a glutton for hearing myself talk.

For The Indie Lover In You

I can’t stress it enough: I love underground artists! I love raw talent. I see potential thru lenses most can’t see thru. My ear was constructed to hear things differently. It’s something about hearing a polished track delivered to my inbox and feeling like I’ve found the most beautiful gem around; I can’t wait to show the world my discovery.

Those who know me know that this love isn’t a new thing for me, but one that’s been brewing for years. With “indie” being the trend now, more and more artists are chasing the indie dream of being recognized worldwide without the help of a label. It’s also amazing to see more people allowing the music to do the talking for once, and not rely solely on the artist’s popularity to dictate whether or not they give them a chance. These gems have been right under our noses all this time, but popularity contests and budgets have left a lot of underground artists with the job of building their name first in order to get the listens, causing the quality of music to suffer. That is a task in and of itself.

Gone are the days of the conditioned mindset to only listen to music from artists with songs on the radio and a music video on BET or MTV. Yet, we are still faced with the task of artists feeling as though they are in a race against time to “Get On Now” instead of really taking their time to produce a good body of work. I say a silent prayer for the gems I do find in hopes that they take the time to find their voice. All too often do we humans get distracted by the things we see/hear before thoroughly testing out the idea that got us started. That’s not to say that the popular sound should be ignored, because who knows, it might actually be the thing that gets you to the sound you were going for. However, finding your own identity before utilizing a sound that can be associated with someone else is essential to standing out, especially in the Indie World.

Let’s face it, the Internet has let everyone in and saturation is at an all time high. There’s literally no shortage of music! You can discover new music everyday for the rest of your life if you wanted. Which is why being passionate about your craft, staying focused on the journey, and defining your OWN success is important in today’s world. In the meantime, let the music be the music and trust that it will find its way to listening ears.


Who the fuck wants to 35 and ALONE???

“So I was thinking… and we need to talk.”

Love, Lust and Everything in Between

Hello SKYLA… Now my 5 year plan goes into effect.

A few weeks ago I got an IUD inserted.  For those of you who don’t know, it is a long term form  of birth control that is insert into your uterus, some release a small amount of hormones others don’t.  I decided to try out SKYLA, it releases a small amount of hormones and protects me, and him,  against pregnancy for 3 years.  No daily routines, no worries.  The insertion was very uncomfortable and if you’ve never had  a baby you don’t know what to expect so just be prepared that it will hurt and will be uncomfortable for the first few days, but it’s nothing more than your worst period.

So I went off on tangent a little now back to my 5 year plan.

I want to date get married and start having babies in 5 years.  So I got…

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I Didn’t Know Being Single Could Make You Thirsty

Boyyyyyyy, do I be looking! If any remotely attractive human of the male species walks pass, you can bet your bottom dollar that my eyes are sure to follow. I’ve been single for almost two years now and I didn’t notice that I had developed this habit until a few months ago. I honestly think I’ve noticed it a little too late in the game because my stare game as gone from clever to down right obvious, and it’s just….sad. Although I laugh at myself, the question still lingers in my mind, When did I become so desperate?” Some may believe this not to be a symptom of desperation. Ha! I’ve watched enough RomCom’s featuring single friends who haven’t got laid in awhile to know that the first sign of desperation is excessive eye contact.

Ironically I usually only catch myself being a stare-bear at church on Sunday’s. I say ironic because the saying is that most single women go to church to look for a man. My motivation is always to hear a good word from the Lord; but somehow I end up surveying the congregation during praise and worship. Trust me, if the choir isn’t all that good it’s the perfect time to check your surroundings. If I get there early enough I’m left with ample time to fully assess the subject and go off into a day-dream about how we’d look together a year from now.

I told you it’s sad.

This habit I’ve formed has somehow gotten out of control. What used to be a one-day-a-week habit for a few short hours, has turned into an any-chance-I-can-get moment that comes as second nature to me now. Allow me to put this pitiful mess into perspective: I see a guy from a few steps away. I find him attractive. I adjust myself to look presentable so that when his eyes are looking in my direction, he sees me. What’s worse is that I continue to stare until this happens, or as long as he is in the area, whichever comes first. I didn’t realize how pitiful I was until the guy politely introduced himself to my friend and continued to engage in an A & B conversation for C to find something else to do to occupy herself until they were finished.

Yes, I’ve wondered if I was lonely, too. If I was “being extra” by trying so hard to get the attention of seemingly potential suitors. I’ve even tried to help it; however, I realize that in order to truly help it I needed to get down to the root cause. I’ve managed to come up with a few theories for this lovesick behavior.

1. Impatience

I’m batting about a 5 month average in my dating situations before something goes awry. In hindsight this is a pretty short amount of time, but when you’re in it it seems like awhile. Around this time I’m usually reevaluating the growth to ensure we’re still on the same page. Sometimes the truth comes out before I get to do so. Feelings invested starts feeling like time wasted. Is it too much to meet the Moms? I mean, geesh! I’m just trying to come through for Thanksgiving. We’ve been talking since the summer!

2. Ok, ok, ok! So I Get A Lil’ Lonely

Because hashtag’ing your IG photos with #DateNite #ITakeMyselfOut #ILoveMe gets old afterawhile and ultimately translates as a call for direct message. I’ve found myself truly convinced that I am fun to be around…until a couple walks past holding hands. Then I’m made at I and Myself for not being real people I could talk to to take my mind of the loneliness. I still love them though. They help me channel my inner thug and I suck it up soon after.

3. I miss being in “Love”

That cheesy feeling often found in RomCom’s is the best feeling in the world when you have someone to call your own. That person you learn to love unconditionally and not be default like family. It’s amazing when you can cultivate something like that. I just wanna be in that number. Besides, as the female in the equation, overly liking someone often results in a let down because you came on too strong and didn’t know it.


Crazy, right? Yeah, I said the same thing.

After becoming privy to these theories I’ve managed to scale back on how long I “review” my potential suitor. The main reason is because I’ve realized that I don’t have to do all that. It just wasn’t funny to me anymore after catching myself. Perhaps, too, because I’m just tired of the wrong person catching my eye contact in their peripheral and pursuing me. I’m too nice, and haven’t exactly mastered the skill of letting someone down easy.

While it’s ok to “look”, I am learning to look without portraying the look of desperation. That look tends to attract all the wrong people that ultimately end up in the friend zone because the feeling just isn’t mutual. My eyes should say more about me than what I have on anyway. My eyes are my resume, and I believe I have a lot more to offer than a nice smile and a few jokes.

I try to stare with eyes of enjoyment and not a quest now. I can’t get into any trouble looking from that angle.

My Name Spells “SAP” Backwards

I am a sucker for a good, tear-jerking, romcom or dramatic film. No. I take that back. I’m a sucker for anything that exhibits “LOVE.” I’m talking authentic, unconditional love. Love so real that you could almost touch it if it weren’t for the TV screen standing in the way. That’s how I felt while watching “And So It Goes” when I caught myself walking towards the TV. Then again I do have a soft spot for old people falling in love again.

You don’t realize just how lonely you look when you’re sobbing over scenes that are meant for a long “awww” or an “almost” cry. I know that my tears are simply a symptom of something much deeper that rears its head when watching a love story. Call it self-inflicted if you must; it’s more of a purge, if anything.

Alright. I’ll be honest. I’m super doooo-per sensitive these days. Especially about the things I’m passionate about. It’s only natural for me to react the way I do whenever I see or experience something that only amplifies my current state of mind. Old people falling in love again is the cutest thing in the world to me (next to babies, and toddlers saying the darndest things)! They’re like kids, just with grey hair. So my tears are more like that of happiness than sadness.

I love Love. I love to see it. I love to see what it does to people. I love to see how it changes people. I love to see it transform itself into a process and give birth to a product that was manifested by passionate diligence. It’s so amazing to watch! I can’t help but think how powerful this emotion is, and how it sucks that it’s abused to much.

I said all that to that to say that I’m a huge crybaby whenever Love comes over.

Can I Talk About That Time I Fell In Love Again..?

I’ve sat back and reflected on the chain of events that have occurred over the last few weeks and concluded that it must be Love’s doing. I’m convinced that Love has this unique hold on me that when not looking, I’d find myself doing the exact opposite of what I said I wouldn’t do. The funny thing about it is that I can never quite pin-point what happened to get me to do it. That’s only because it disguised itself as second nature, causing me to operate out of habit with no thought whatsoever. Love. You clever bastard you.

So I guess I’ll put this into perspective instead of speaking vaguely about what I’m essentially eluding to. Besides, I’m working on being more transparent on the Internet just as I am in reality.

The Story

They say “Love will make you do some crazy things,” and I legit found myself considering the unthinkable, and what could also quite possibly be thee most craziest thing according to society’s standards. All for “him.” The boyfriend-who’s-not-my-boyfriend-this-time-but-a-boyfriend-from-way-back-when. The vessel that housed that euphoric feeling of happiness I had never felt before and couldn’t get enough of. The one who…..ok, you get it. Anyway, his name is Waybach Wen.

I don’t know what it was this time, but Waybach was magical this go ’round. I couldn’t cut him off if I wanted to. After just a few days of silence I’d be given a platform to voice my frustrations on and actually be heard. And then “poof”. It’s like nothing ever happened. Most of the time an apology never followed; unless I initiated it. And then the feeling was back like cooked crack!

It wasn’t until a few months ago when I realized it wasn’t “him” that I was chasing, but a familiar feeling I recognized one night. It snuck up on me like a sinus infection in the summer time, and I legit perked up like “Hey! I know you!” And from then on I was hooked. Ready to go the lengths of the earth to get a taste of that Feeling again for however long I was allowed. It didn’t matter that our time together felt like jail visitation,- as brief and spaced out as they were- because the excitement leading up to the initial visit was…everything.

Waybach was my pusher. He couldn’t have been anything else! He had the best drug in town, and I was his number one customer. The equivalent to a crack-head, I was ready to get a bus pass to travel to any part of this huge city if that’s what it took, just to get whatever he had on hand to last me for the week. My heart hadn’t been touched like that in so long that I forgot about the initial time I had ever felt like that. It seems as though Waybach was just the gatekeeper, standing between me and that “Feeling” getting together again; the “Feeling” that I’d get so wrapped up in that often times I didn’t recognize him when I came down. Only because I knew the “Feeling” better than I had known him.

And just as my chase became a habit causing me to put up with stuff that I didn’t deserve, I discovered the Addict. Subsequently my need to encounter the “Feeling” again virtually forced me to learn how to function with Insecurity and Trust Issues, two of the most hated individuals in the relationship industry currently, and came as a result of this new discovery. These two beings became my besties, checking up on me daily to reassure me that they were there for me and was down to keep anybody at arm’s length just to protect me. They even introduced me to a tall guy named Wall Up who likes to stand in front my heart from time to time. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have protection every day, but with my heart being height-deficient, it can get kind of difficult to see who’s coming. So naturally she barely has any visitors because she’s not able to open the door for anyone.

Well, anyway. My dear friends, as protective as they are, hipped me to the fact that my pusher had another customer who suffered from the same addiction as I did. “How could this be?” you ask, especially when the “Feeling” only recognized me? I toyed with that question so long that a turf war for his heart ensued. So long until I found myself face-to-face with the addict and the pusher himself. Somehow my weakness managed to find the strength to co-sign on the idea of a conference. What I didn’t know was that I’d be attending a sacrificial ceremony where I’d be offering my whole heart for half of his.

Love was there too, perched on the dashboard just swinging its legs in satisfaction at how beautifully this all came together. The Fein. The Addict. And Waybach, the Pusher. A joyous event for Love, yet a painful one for me. I could’ve help but think that  the “Feeling” I had been chasing was in cahoots with Love all along. Nah. Love wouldn’t do this. “It’s a GOOD thing!” I’ve said this to myself over and over.


I saw Love again and it was good to see him doing well. It even felt good to catch up during the time that we did. Perhaps its reappearance was meant only to see if I’d still do anything for it without allowing Thought to ruin it.

Apparently so.

Granted, Wall Up is a horrible babysitter for not keeping his eye on my Heart, because she got away and encountered something she hadn’t seen in awhile but knew very well. In essence this encounter showed me how to love without borders in order to experience the true depths of Love where Thought doesn’t go, and sacrifice it for Self-Love when it gets to be no good for you. Or perhaps to just set it free once you’ve had enough.

When you have more to say, just insert [To Be Continued…] here.