I’ve become my writing
Somewhere l o s t in the
Depths of
Bitter
T      P
E            R
E                 O
W                        S
S                               E
Consumed with characters
That love me more than my family
Dispersed in an illiterate
World
Blind and ignorant goes my fingers
Across a weather-beaten keyboard
My characters can’t live without me.
The Lyfe of an Author
The Soul of my Creation
Immortalized on your book shelf
All I do
Know
Care 4
Are the words
Eye
Internalize.

I was up, down and out. I was quiet, miseducated and abandoned. I was angry, sad and blue. I was fatherless, colorless and helpless. I was in and out and upside down. I fucked ‘em, left ‘em, sucked ‘em, ate ‘em and burped when I was full.

I will talk about my life very bluntly. Exactly how it was was how I’ma give it to you because it was given to me in the worst harrowing way unknown to man. I will talk about times of oppression, depression and stress.

Being a bisexual kid by the time I turned eleven. Was this book painful for me to write? FUCK YEA IT IS! I sit with tears in my eyes.

The world wanted to know The King of Erotica’s story. What makes him write
such bitter, raw, uncensored emotions in his characters.

What makes him tick?

What does he like, what does he hate? What does he live for, who does he love? Has he always been beautiful; was he a monster. Has he been an angel, or is he the devil.

Why is he so gifted, where does his talent come from? How did he survive brutal onslaughts in his life, why did he keep faith IN GOD?

WHY DIDN’T HIS FAITH WAIVER?
WHY DIDN’T HIS FAITH WAIVER?
WHY DIDN’T HIS FAITH WAIVER?
WHY DOES HE STILL WAKE UP EVERY SINGLE SOLITARY MORNING AND GIVE PRAISE TO GOD, JEHOVAH, THE FATHER OF JESUS CHRIST AND CRACK A SMILE, AND WRITE SOME MORE BOOKS?

I’m a warrior clad like a Gladiator in full Armor of God.

The answer is simple to your question (waiver). I was made in God’s image. So therefore I will ALWAYS be a reflection of his grace.

Good or bad really ain’t your damn problem.

The only person I explain myself to is GOD! He is the father! He is the Way.

And he is the solar system.

The longitude and latitude of your life.
And the REAL breadwinner. Every time he fuck his wife she fucks a reflection of God.

Whenever he looks in the mirror he sees the reflection of God’s image himself, making him a believer. So I will talk crap, curse a a mutha out, jack my you know what, get some nookie, munch on a butt cheek or two, watch Janet Jackson, shake my ass and make your baby daddy mad and go to church and not give a damn about what the
public has to say.

I don’t owe anybody nothing.

So raise your own dysfunctional kids and leave Larry the freak alone because I already ADMITTED to my heavenly father that I am a SINNER!

And baby, it ended when I said AMEN.

Before I was dipped in cold ass faucet water during baptism...