Sugar Milk

A NSFW Blog:

Writer. Researcher. Observer. Aspiring minimalist. Photographer. Music collector. Social Drinker. Sex enthusiast. Urban. Queer. Accepting. Public Transportation.
Spring and Autumn Memoir
Recent Tweets @suitemilk1
Posts tagged "qws"
  • Day was dope.
  • Was slightly encouraged for some reason. Don’t matter.
  • Strolled home. There was a mural in the sky but I couldn’t make out the canvas.
  • Some kinda way my balcony door was opened. I must’ve neglected to lock it.
  • My photography was blown off the wall by the wind
  • My cat was hiding in terror.
  • My pilot light is blown.
  • My stove won’t light.
  • I have no lighter/matches
  • I have a message on my board that says, “[hungry?] drink 3 glasses of water and live vicariously through [the cat].”
  • I have nothing microwaveable (a good & bad thi….oatmeal)

gonna go eat oatmeal now.

Rah! and I waiting for the hot weather to start
so that shit can end
and the cold weather can come back.

because I’m about that life. 


Listening: XXYYXX. i mean i found them via iTunes but i’m only able to think of my queen etceterauniverse when i listen to them. because she’s the only other person that i know that playlisted them. 

Watching: so i watched the Normal Heart today. and while i feel, on the surface, that Mark Ruffalo plays a gay horribly, the roles and the intensity of the movie really did move me. create an anger in me. not so  much an anger but a desire to move something. i don’t know if that something is my ass or a mountain or everything in between — but i wanted to knock a planet off of its revolution to create a new way to balance shit. i wanted….different(ce).
Doing: every other day, my apartment manages to look like absolute shit and grimy and sad and as if a depressed person is the one managing the lease. so i gotta get this place extra straight, extra quick just in case some mid-late night company wanna come over and watch Archer -_- srsly.

Eating: about to smash a bacon cheeseburger. cuz i got it like that.

Drinking: ladies and gentlemen, i present to you, another disgustingly sober evening. a friday one. i just got in from a zipcar housewarming party and i had a beer there but…..the fuck is a beer. 

Wearing: a oversized green polo shirt, jeans, black fitted. yeah all of this plus the beer definitely got me acting like a boy tonight. not that i act like a girl any other night. but - yeah. just know that i’m not about to #NoHetero this statement. even though i already did.

Feeling: sober as fuck. also bored. and frugal. because bored. and sober. because frugal.

Weather: it’s mostly cloudy and about 70°F. if you walk down the right block, between the right buildings, the sexiest spring breeze will stroke you up real good. 

Wanting: to change all my feelings.

Needing: to hit the lottery. and not the big one. i don’t need to hit the mega millions or anything like that. i just need a good scratch off to slip me $500. i don’t need much. ever. just a little bit. to get by. i can wake up in the morning and appreciate the hell out of the sunrise and showering with daylight before splashing water up on my face. but if i had like $500 to add to that glorious feeling….all would be alright. you hear me, chile? all would be all right.

Thinking: she think we don’t need to do that much drinking in 45 minutes - i feel like we need to because “FEELINGS”. also - i’m about to take over some dashboards because i wanna post as much as i can before the summer (June) gets here.

Enjoying: my music. this weather. and the possibility of getting a drink tonight. (it’s not happening)


  • while i’m glad to finally have my haircut after a month, it would be even more incredible to have a barber who had some concept of the word “taper” — it looks like my neck line stops/starts at my ears.
  • pat metheny made me cry today. again. it’s one thing for a song to make me cry. it happens often. in fact, music is the one thing that can make me cry more than anything else in the world. even if i’m sad and can’t get the tears out, half notes and quarter notes and dissonant chords will push them motherfuckers right down my face. HOWEVER, for a particular song to make me cry more than once is rare. and i swear he gives me proof on “The Way Up”
  • today feels like sunday - therefore my bags are completely packed for my trip. i just wish i had one of those extended battery juice packs. because the iPhone 5 battery is almost as reliable as public transportation.
  • here’s a thing about my tumblr crushes: they’re like magazine subscriptions. it’s something new every month. they hold my attention well. i get all up in that cerebral space. swipe all their cologne samples. get into them over a gin & sprite conversation…and then, never recycle, but always add to this masterpiece collage of mine.
  • i can’t wait for brunch.
  • this cali playlist is gon be the shit. all the artists from last night + Flying Lotus, Teebs, Me’Shell N’degeocello, 

Listening: Recoiled by Flying Lotus. Get in on this shit. I swear the spirit of Baltimore snuck up into his veins intravenously when he produced this motherfucker right here. 

Reading: new theories on the malaysian flight that got sucked into a the bermuda triangle while it was in the middle of stretching and yawning.

Doing: getting dressed and preparing myself for a night of drinking. my pre-gaming was quite effective (hence the title of this mawfucking post). and my friend i’m heading out with is playing a bunch of FUCKING games making me not even wanna head out. i already passed out pre-game style once tonight. 

Eating: burnt up ass Checkers fries i bought from my grocer’s freezer. had to put some kind of starch up in my bod-bod.

Drinking: amsterdam. straight from the bottle. from the mouth of the bottle to the mouth of my lips. my lips don’t have a mouth. my lips make up the mouth. so yeah. from the mouth of the bottle. to the mouth of me. that doesn’t sound right….. (to the mouth of the quillium. to the mouth of this man. to the mouth of THIS NIGGA RIGHT HERE. naaaahhh to MY MOUTH RIGHT HERE [FOR REAL]. from the lips of the bottle to the lips of the poet. from the bottle to the head. 

i would love to be generous with some brain right now actually.

Wearing: this fucking thermal because i’m cold. and it’s not even cold in here. alcohol.

Feeling:  i know he better hurry up and get here. and because i typed the word “hurry” this entire portion of this entry is to be read in Regina King’s Boondock’s voice.

Weather: it’s chilly outside but it’s nice. like — i should keep this thermal on and a light jacket but nothing too heavy.

Wanting: financial freedom. a financial savior. not to remember everything that’s currently depressing me.

Needing: all of the things that i want. it’s balled into a needwant.

Thinking: i can’t wait to fucking take pictures of Rah! tomorrow.

Enjoying: Rah! and typing this in front of boogie. he’own give a fuck.


  • i woke up this morning at 7:15a
  • first thing i did was tweet about it. 
  • then i became afraid because i think DST will make me late for work tomorrow.
  • but i’m still extra excited that i woke up today.
  • sharing with a ton of strangers that i’m still here.
  • the last dream i had was of leonardo dicaprio playing “It Is Well With My Soul” on piano.
  • here’s my new chance to get it right.


i woke up like this…


I’m no god. I’m no work of art. I’m nothing so paramount that I’d move you to tears….


I’ve been told that my tumblr is quite similar the work of Andy Goldsworthy. The thoughts that I pour out and the way that I weave words; the poetry and the photography. The raw imagery. The mistakes and the spelling errors and the imperfections of my recipes; the lists and the numbers and the minute obsessions. they inspire, if no one else, myself into becoming greater. More advanced. More powerful. 

I’m using periods wrong; also semicolons. 

The videos and the quotes. The darkness and the bright spots too. You’ve all been invited into this mass universe that I’ve created. And I’ve speckled each of you as planets all around my galaxies and nebulas so that you could make up a part of my personal community. I don’t think I ever received a birthday candle from tumblr the three years this blog existed…..

the URL must be synonymous to Jehovah’s Witnesses. yeah. Jehovah’s Witnesses are sweet as milk. a painful sugary drink. mmm gritty. I often think of reaching back and capturing, the compositions to read to my nieces and nephews as bedtime stories once they become school age. Or even to the unborn. So they’ll know what magic sounds like.

But that’s a bit pompous of me isn’t it? Quite.
(insert monocle adjustment here)

well anyway…. eventually the sunrises upon frozen sculptures. And love letters that are written in the sand become forgotten grains under the footsteps of the moon. after while the fragile limbs of my artistry snap, break, and are transcended by seasonal winds….

again I’m no god.
but i’m pretty sure my existence is pretty omnipotent. 

if you’ve been audience enough.

Quillium C. Wordsmith

So here’s the past 90 days.

  • What even is 50° anymore?
  • a somber Christmas….
  • a few frozen hearts….
  • beautiful new friends…
  • meticulous irritants…
  • look at that bawwwwdy
  • philadelphia
  • los angeles
  • saint louis
  • cleveland
  • toronto
  • sydney
  • snow shoeing
  • ice walks
  • blackened bridges
  • raw noses

and a soundtrack to go with the whole thing.

"i look upon ever day to be lost, in which i do not make a new acquaintance." Samuel Johnson


"everywhere is nowhere. when a person spends all his time in foreign travel, he ends by having many acquaintances, but no friends.

Jesus be a scale.


You’re single because you’re single. It’s not because you texted too much or too little or waited 33 minutes to respond because he took 23. It’s not because you met up with your ex that night at 5 a.m. that no one knows about, or because you kissed another boy after a date with a loser.

You’re not single because you spit food on that date or tripped coming out the the movie theatre. You’re not single because you hurt your first boyfriend really badly when you were 15 or because you have yet, to this day, to apologize. It’s not because you were secretly jealous when your friend got a boyfriend or that a guy you dated for two months now has a really cute girlfriend and looks really happy. And you’re happy for him. But still ill that he found someone before you.

You’re not single because you slept with your ex boyfriend. You’re not single because half the world found out when you didn’t even want to remember it yourself. You’re not single because you think the guy your friend wants to hook you up with is ugly or not tall enough. It’s not because you’re not willing to put up with someone who doesn’t brush their teeth on a regular basis.

You’re not single because your standards are too high. Good for you for having standards. It’s not because you didn’t like that really, really good guy who wanted to take you on a date and you just weren’t feeling it. And it’s not because you like to wear pajama pants as soon as you get home and wash all the makeup off your face. You’re not single because you didn’t learn enough from the past or would rather chill on a Friday night with your blanket and a cold beer than shower, get ready, and go out. You’re not single because something is wrong with you.

You are single because you are single. It’s really as simple as that. You haven’t made the connection with another heart yet. You can get dolled up, dress cute, cut your hair, dye your hair, tweeze your eyebrows, put on lipstick and you may still. be. single. You can go out to a bar hoping to meet the love of your life and not find a damn one in the place attractive. And it’s going to remain that way until it’s time for you to find one. Stop hoping for it. Start living the life that you do have instead of wishing for things that you don’t have. There will come a time you’ll meet a boy and you’ll have to give up some of this single freedom you currently have. Start being more thankful. Start doing that now.
I may not have a perfect body but I have some excellent parts on it.

Listening: my autumn playlist. these jazz standards are dope but i swear the classical pieces make the leaves fall even more graceful.

Watching: Heartbeats. But I’m not going to finish it. I keep imagining myself cuddled up with a blanket and cup of my chai with the windows completely open and watching this film. But every time I tell myself to make a cup of chai, I’m too full to enjoy it. Thanksgiving has been good to me and I swear I’ve been stuffed for the past three days.

Doing: Preparing for the 3 month hiatus. December - February. Spring and Autumn memoir. Don’t you forget it.

Eating: stuffed.

Drinking: Hot Cinnamon spice tea. I want one of those tea kettles that sit on tea lights. I don’t need it though.

Wearing: a black t-shirt.                                    yup.

Feeling: You know - last night I pulled out my journal from when I was a senior in high school and read an entire entry on contentment and being happy with what I have. Being completely satisfied with going without and finding happiness in experiences instead of in the tangible. It was a bit overwhelming to see that even 13 years ago - I was talmbout this stuff. 

I guess some things never change.

Weather: Overcast - 30°F and we’re supposed to go go-carting today.

Wanting: $2000 worth of electronics and some quiet.

Needing: Just the quiet.

Thinking: About the Sound of Noise, the iPad, the music, this day’s events, and the fact that my entire immediate family was completely split up on Thanksgiving.

Enjoying: what I’m listening to and what I’m drinking.


It’s still bright in here.


Good News: Grateful

you know what i enjoy? i enjoy the first few paces and strides i take at 515 in the morning. when i step off the grass and into the street; when my walk is swift and my train is rolling. i love the ability to imagine train signals yellow and red flashing simultaneously to watch for cars coming onto the terrace. and to catch myself 4 blocks into the walk and realize, i’ve been singing the whole time without realizing.

i can’t be dreaming because i see the same lexus GX fly by shortly followed by the black camaro and then the blue sentra each morning. they let me know how on time i am while crossing the 28th street bridge. and for my supervisor coming down and leaning her womanhood onto my desk to see how i’m doing. and making sure i’m okay. and for slipping a lunch voucher into my hand for doing, what apparently, is an incredible job.

for the patient who caught my regret faster than i did. “you can sign in if you want.” and before i could correct myself, she picked up the pen and started signing and said, “and what will you do if I don’t want to?” the extra bag of white cheddar popcorn that fell out of the vending machine. that was instant karma. the bag wasn’t for me. it was for the kid in the waiting room whose bag of white cheddar popcorn got stuck in another vending machine nearby.

and the hasbro for treating me to lunch while calling me names the entire time. we literally fought the entire time we were eating. he sickens me. and free food is always more delicious. how mild it was, the walk home. no bag. no umbrella. no worries really. just walking. thinking of ways to google how to enter my name into the downstairs callbox because of how slow my maintenance personnel is taking. but we’re not reporting on that….we’re covering:

sugar cereals with sugar milk. with sugar milk. with sugar milk. and the rhythm the keyboard makes when you repeatedly type things over and over again. and the smell of strong thick lavender and cashmere absorbing into my nostrils. mistaking irritated traffic below as the tremolo of cymbals; so faint. and being clean. and good underwear. and texts. and being clean. 

and sleep hangovers….
and very deep inhales in
and very slow exhales out….

there’s no death to report. there’s no debt to report. there’s no political errs to be acknowledged. there’s no illnesses or ailments to extol. there’s no attitudes or irritations on shore. no accidental house fires, acts of arsony, robbery or theft. there’s no evidence of greed or dissatisfaction. there’s no wild sexual appetites or sexual assaults to make known. 

just very deep inhales in
and very slow exhales out.

that’s it for tonight.


Listening: A combination of my fall playlist and my evening lounge playlist. I have a ton of excitement and energy over this music.
Watching: I’m watching The Help (again). I tell you what: these movies about the history of African-Americans in this country have a great thread to them but I can only hear all the folks on tumblr pointing out the err and flaws with each film. It’s part of the reason that I haven’t seen 12 Years A Slave yet. (also because I have to have someone hold my hand in heavy movies like that sometimes…..only sometimes) 

Doing: Just got finished planking for 35 seconds. Yesterday was more difficult but that was also because it was accompanied by push-ups.
Eating: my diet today - I had three bowls of peanut butter crunch and half a pack of Nathan’s. either i’m a bachelor like a boss or it’s time to go to the grocery store. I’m going to go with the former instead of the latter because I actually  have a full meal I could’ve made but didn’t feel like it.

Drinking: what you know about fresh-out-the-freezer pepsi under a cold window fan when it’s 46° outside?
Wearing: I was going to say my favorite basketball shorts but their back story is moreso what I enjoy over the basketball shorts
Feeling: energetic over pepsi and music and …. shit. I think I might do some shots. no. don’t.
Weather: Negroes say it’s cold. 

Wanting: toys. lots and lots of toys. it’s November - I owe Santa a list.
Needing: to stop acting like I’m a born and raised New Yorker who done arrived. nothing about any part of me says get that $700 outfit. nothing.

Thinking: 5 more minutes and the disappointment begins. *sigh*

Enjoying: if this robe had a bury feature i’d be so deep in it with some chai on the side.