Sometimes I….

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Sometimes I get in moods and write a post on a whim after lighting a blunt because I fully plan to act like I have no clue what someone is talking about if they show concern after reading it

Sometimes I realize it would be far fetched for someone to actually read this shit lol

Sometimes I stare out the window and purposefully turn on sad music so I can have a melancholy soundtrack to match what’s in my head and try to “cry it out” .

Sometimes I realize how crazy that makes me seem.

Sometimes I take a nap at three in the afternoon and wake up at 3 in the morning.

Sometimes I tell my therapist I’m ok even though I know I’m there to tell her I’m not

Sometimes I miss my mom so much I’ll crawl from the bed to the floor and cry so hard. The definition of agony and anguish becomes so internalized I check to see if my tears have turned into blood

Sometimes I wonder why I put forth so much effort into relationships knowing that it’s pretty common for people to take it for granted…. as some of the closest ones to me constantly do.

Sometimes I act strong for 23 hours all in hoping I can fall apart in private at the 24th hour

Sometimes I wish that every building block I’ve collected in hopes of bettering myself wasn’t obtained by some traumatic life lesson

Sometimes I laugh constantly even though I know I’m one “are you ok” away from a breakdown

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so dramatic

Sometimes I wish I could just be happy to have the good things in life I do have: food, somewhere to lay my head, the ability to wake up in the morning

Sometimes I don’t know what’s wrong with me

Sometimes I don’t care

Sometimes I care too much

Sometimes I just truly believe I have to keep going, acting happy, saving money, working hard, and treating my family and friends the best I can and that one day it’ll all come back to me ten fold and I’ll get all the love respect and peace I’ve been searching for….

….and sometimes….. most times…..I know better than that.

Time To Be Alone

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I am very tired and I have been very tired for a long time. This post is less about my friends and their character and more about me struggling to find peace in ANY avenue of my life right now. It’s not about their character….this is about me struggling with mine. This post is just focusing on getting close to people as of late. This is not to bash my friends who have really helped me in so many ways and are truly good people.I’m already knowing it will NOT read this way but what am I to do if it’s my current mental state?

(I will reiterate this at the end because I’m sure if they read this they’d feel attacked and that’s not my goal. But I also know that none of my close friends are patrons of my blog and well I will just leave you to decipher that as you wish……..)

I know I am not most people’s cup of tea. I’d list all of the ways I’m hard to handle but my therapist would say that’s probably not the best way to promote self confidence. 

Anyways….. I do try to be a good person but most importantly I got out of my way to be good to the ones I love (as most people generally do) 

It’s EXTREMELY melodramatic to feel how I feel (quite frankly I hate being aware of the unnecessary-ness of the statements to follow) but alas this is my current state of emotions:

I DO NOT WANT FRIENDS RIGHT NOW.

Right now having loved ones, having people I’m so deeply concerned about and wish I could give the world to, hasn’t been seeming to serve me as well. 

I haven’t learned yet how to say no to someone I love when they need help EVEN if it will be detrimental to me. Prior to recently, I felt that sort of self sacrificing spirit would let them know how truly I understand what’s it’s like to feel as if no one loves you enough to go out of their way for you. So I try to be that person for people in hopes that just how much I love them will be exemplified but no. It’s never truly appreciated. The same person will say the next week that “no one ever comes through for them.”

I am a homebody. I enjoy my house and the comforts within. However, I will leave my house thousands of times, even packing bags of amenities, simply because my friends would rather me come to them than vice versa. But I do. Because I love them. Because I will sacrifice comfort for theirs without even thinking about it. 

I’m the friend you know will help you move, the one you know you can get a ride from if I’m available, the one that will listen whenever you call. I figure “perhaps you can help them and then help yourself and then they can be happy and you can still finish your own thing.” Often the exact opposite is true.

I basically will do for these loved ones what I don’t even know how to do for myself. It’s not a pity party. It’s simply I know how good I felt when my mother would go out of her way for me. I know that not many people have someone who loves them so much to do certain actions. I hate knowing that  if presented with an opportunity to make someone feel so extremely loved and important I find it hard to pass up. 

I’m learning now more than ever that people won’t always see what you want them to see in you. They don’t see all the times you come over, they only see when you don’t. 

They don’t see all the times you’ve lent money and barely had it to give, only the times you say no. 

I’ve driven miles in a car that barely made it down the street with the smell of its inevitable demise filling my nose just to visit friends who don’t even know what MY house looks like. I have given gifts to friends and I never got one in return for. I’ve searched for weeks for the perfect gift to be given a gift with zero personal touch or thought to it in return.

I could ramble on and on about me supposedly being a saint but I’m not. Mainly because if I was reading this I’d say well these all seem like situations you’ve volunteered for. I’d say stop doing the absolute fucking most and getting mad cuz someone else decided they didn’t want to break their back or go broke. 

You’d be right. In all these instances I could’ve said no. And also I clearly don’t want someone to go broke or be inconvenienced for me….ever. If you know me you know how true that is. It’s also why in turn I try to be a low maintenance friend. Doesn’t change the fact that all these “woe is me” pity parties could be avoided if I just say no.

But it’s not what I do and the “why” of what I do will ALWAYS be because I love these people and WANT to help. I never do it simply so that I can be rewarded in some way. Them being taken care of is my reward.

However, the reward has seemed to have lost its affect on me and it makes me feel like a terrible person. I’m basically complaining about not being able to mentally handle the normal situations that arise in close relationships. Very rarely is something so simple or 50/50 yet I no longer feel as if I want to indulge in any type of closeness to anyone for a while simply to avoid the heartache. It makes me feel like a childish monster.

Doing all I can just to have people exclaim to the world that they have no friends, no one is there for them, or that they’ve had no help financially and have done everything on their own…..makes me sad.

People have come to me with real issues that I’ve listened to and taken in when mentally I was already  at my capacity. To hear those same ones say things like “no one ever takes time to listen to me” or things of the such is a stab at all the effort I’ve put in to make them NOT feel that way. And I’m tired.

Doing so much for people, for them to turn around and either cut me off over something small or for them to comment on my character over something small, is no longer worth it. They can say things and do things to me I would have NEVER said or have probably wanted to but I put their feelings first and kept quiet. Yet anytime I do something to their discomfort, my feelings and what I’m going through isn’t considered. That saddens me to my core. People are allowed to disrespect or dismiss me but because I love them no reaction on my part is warranted.

People can tell me to lose their number because of a money issue amongst me telling them I’m struggling with my health as well as mentally and I’m just supposed to accept that. 

So many situations lately have involved people treating me however and me loving them enough to try and just bite the bullet and sweep it under the rug. 

These same people within the past year have fixed their mouths to call me “selfish, fucked up, and, mean.” 

That’s not ok.

I want to make clear these loved ones aren’t the devil. They’ve helped me in times I needed them just like I’ve just ranted about me doing. They’re actually all quite very good people. I just don’t think, when they decide to not be good people or they dismiss how hard I’m trying to make sure THEY are good, I just don’t think mentally that’s something I can handle. So instead of me acting like I’m God himself and getting upset when people don’t kiss my feet in return I think it’s best for me to just stay at home to myself and then there’s no problems at all.

Lately, they’ve been making me feel like I’m truly NOT this good person who does all these things and goes out of her way. Instead of trying to get them to see that I am that person even more and draining myself even more…..I want to create a gap for them for someone who can come in and love them and show them the effort I apparently haven’t been able to . I just wish they knew how much I’ve tried. 

-Mac

The What If Carousel?

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Ladies, do you ever find yourself laying down, minding your own business, and suddenly there’s a pain that shoots right through your boob? In that moment you think “oh god this is it! My time has come! I see the light!”

I’m not here to talk about random titty pain. In that moment, even if just for those few seconds, I hop onto the “what if” carousel. What if it’s breast cancer? What if I’m having a heart attack? What if this is something serious? What if I go to the doctor and they don’t take me serious? What if I die because the physician is racist and didn’t think I deserved the correct test? What if I die right now and when people find my body they find my vibrator next to me instead of a bible?

All jokes aside the What If Carousel is a scary place and for those with anxiety the ride is longer and much harder to hope off of. I find myself settling onto my horse, holding onto my pole, going in circles, completely ignoring all the signs saying I’ve exceeded the expected ride time.

My days are filled with thinking of possible negative outcomes, ignoring very possible positive outcomes, and these days often I become void of any action at all because of it. Just imagine the viciousness of the What If Carousel of someone with agoraphobia? It breaks my heart to even fathom.

What if my candles aren’t good quality? What if I don’t pass this exam? What if I can’t pay rent next month? What if I’m deathly ill and unaware? What if my friends think I’m super annoying and just put up with me? What if I’ll be alone forever? What if I’ll always be reaching for success but never grab it? What if Jehovahs Witnesses are right and I’m gonna die forever? What if I’m the only one that thinks what I write is worth reading?

Lately I’ve been riding on my own carousel moreso than normal. I really want to get off and get shit done.

These questions or similar ones occupy my mind often. The other day I had to scrape up some weed (too poor to buy some because ya know priorities and shit). My carousel had started moving waaaay too fast. It wasn’t a fun ride. Scary is what it was.

I sat on the edge of my tub with the shower running, paying no mind to the water covering the floor, and exhaled through a straw. (A breathing technique I’ve learned that has carried me through many panic attacks) Eventually I felt Mary Janes presence, took my shower, ate the food I had previously lost all appetite for, and went to sleep.

When I woke up you know what I said? My first thought the next morning was “what if I always need Mary Jane to save me?” And then I started my carousel up for the day………

Are You Ok?

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So, I was scrolling twitter (instead of doing homework) the other day and I saw a tweet that got me thinking.

It basically said acting like you’re looking for something to stop from crying in front of someone is a skill. It’s definitely one I’ve perfected lol.

So how the hell does one get so good, like myself, at hiding when we aren’t ok and why is it so normal to do so?

I could tell you but nobody has time to read that dissertation.

Nobody is telling you to cry in your managers lap at work everytime something isn’t going swell in life. Don’t do that.

I’m just saying I’ve gotten really good at pretending to be ok when I’m not, especially in public spaces. The pressure of having to constantly hold those emotions in for the sake of being strong and persevering and optimistic has effects on you trust me.

Most of the time we learn to do this because it wouldn’t be beneficial to not “suck it up” and push through. For example, if you really like your job maybe wait until you aren’t on an important conference call to break down.

Disclaimer: Crying at work may prohibit promotions

I’d be a liar though if sometimes I didn’t want to say “yea well I feel like I can’t breathe because my throat is getting tight because the stress I’ve been feeling lately is so overwhelming I want to rip apart my garments and cry out to the heavens “WHY GOD?!?!?”

But alas, I usually settle with a “oh no girl I’m fine yes I can have that done by Monday no problem.”

The question becomes how do we remain strong but in those real torturous moments of weakness how do we learn to simply say “No I am not ok.”

P.S. If you can’t make it home to go cry in the shower like all of the rest of us do, I will not judge you if you only make it to your hallway.

February 1: Things Unsaid

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So for this prompt I would like to write a few letters to my immediate family. I’ve always felt like letters are a way to say things to someone that the tongue doesn’t allow to be set free.

To my oldest sister Kattie,

I am sorry. I am sorry that you lost your father and your mother and could not verbally express your sorrow. I’m sorry that I didn’t feel like I could handle taking care of you by myself at 20 years old after mom died. I’m sorry for all the mistakes I may have made during the months that I tried. I’m sorry your autism causes you to view familiarity and routine as comforts and those comforts were taken away from you. I’m sorry I don’t come see you as much to check on you and that I make an excuse because I know you’re being well taken care of. I am sorry I’m not a better little sister.

To my second oldest sister Lisa,

I want to know why? Why I can’t see my niece, why you haven’t called or text me in years, and why I had to find out you were pregnant via social media. I know why. Because Jehovah told you not to. So I guess I mean I want to know why the love you have for me isnt strong enough to push through that. I held your hand during many dark times and it’s insufferable to constantly realize that during my dark times you’re voluntarily staying away. It hurts deeply and you plan on continuing on with your life not letting that pain affect you. I wouldn’t do that to you if the roles were reversed and let’s not forget that at one point they were. I still love you with all of my heart…..even if you only love me from outside of the cage you have sentenced me to.

To my third oldest sister Alex,

Alex fighting! I miss how we used to be when mom was alive, playing video games in my room or you forcing me to watch a Korean drama that shortly thereafter I’d become obsessed with. Though I don’t miss those times as deeply because intertwined in those memories are memories of my toxicity towards you and your being. Your nature differs so much from mine in many ways and my lack of understanding for such a difference but yet annoyance of it during our younger years sickens me. You still piss me off just as much but if I had realized how much I need and love you perhaps I wouldn’t have been so mean. I’m sorry for the role I played in certain past traumas you hold and hope that before I leave this earth I can prove to you how much I love you.

To my fourth oldest sister Latrice,

Yes I have you blocked on Facebook. I find it hard to deal with how your mental disorders manifest and how they make me feel. I often think of our biological mother and traits we may share from her. Or our dads, whoever they may be, and how different they may have been. I remember being bonded together simply in the fact that we shared DNA and the other sisters couldn’t say that. Hell, I have yet to be able to say that to anyone in my life but you. The truth was there than and it’s here now: You scare me. I constantly fear your mental instability is one of the shared traits and mine has just yet to manifest as fiercely. I wish you were just a tad more mentally stable. I wish you could come visit and we could go for coffee and I come play with your children. I wish I didn’t fear for their wellbeing when with you and I wish I didn’t fear for yours. I pray that the universe or whoever is in control of our lives watches over you in ways that I can’t.

To my fifth oldest sister Jasmine,

Bitch I fucking adore you and I cannot stand your trifling ass! Hahaha. The relationship I have with you is the most fierce and complex than the other sisters simply because we are connected so strongly but the deep love for you all is there all around. We are the babies of the McClendone clan but the crazy ones as well. The ones cracking jokes at family reunions and getting in trouble for giggling instead of bowing our heads during prayer. The first person who taught me about sex and that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I decided to put my mouth on a mans appendage. The first person I called whenever I was in trouble and needed a way out without getting caught by momma. I want to tell you that you underestimate yourself and there’s a part of our bond I believe that solely relies on me trying to change that. We argue more than anyone in the family but I also believe it’s because we become so frustrated when the other is not doing what we know they should and could be. I’ve always thought your promiscuity stemmed from lack of self love and the search to find it in others. I wish more for you. You make the stupidest decisions sometimes but I’ve learned not to get so angry because you are always the first person to walk me through my own.

To my mother,

I am mad at you. Livid. Furious. YOU LEFT ME HERE! You left me here to deal with life without you and I wasn’t prepared. I’m having such a hard time without you and you should be here. PERIOD. I’m angry at you for dying and I’m angry at myself for being angry at you. As if you had a damn choice. As if you didn’t fight hard for me everyday. But I was your baby. I AM YOUR BABYCAKES! Please come back to me. Even if just for a little while. I promise not to be so angry with you anymore. I’m so sad without you it is sometimes physically unbearable. My existence is in constant turmoil without you mommy, I miss you and I’m just simply not ok without you and never will be. Come back to me. Please

Black and Badass

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I searched Facebook tonight for events happening in my area and what I stumbled upon made me realize I might have bigger issues than what to do on a Friday night.

BlackGirlChatt’s 1st Annual: The Launch Party. A night of drinks and conversations with some motivated and determined black women sounds right up my alley.

I am determined to make 2020 matter. These past few years I have been simply trying not to drown and I think 2020 is the year I start swimming (even if I have to start off with an enthusiastic doggy paddle).

My excitement grew as I explored the event page. Cocktail attire meant I finally would have a reason to attempt to beat my face, which I am sure would be only slightly successful. Drinks would be available and that is always a plus in my book.

Though I adore the friends I have made here in Chattanooga, I cannot dismiss the fact that throwing some much needed melanin into my circle of friends would definitely make me happy. It’s kind of like how no matter how many languages you may be fluent in, it will always feel good to have a conversation in your native tongue.

What would I know though? I barely made it out of Spanish 4 alive. Dios mio!

As I clicked on what the event was geared towards and who were some of the figures attending, my desire to attend waned.

Scared isn’t the word. Intimidated is more like it. I slowly started to convince myself I would not belong.

Am I a black girl? Yea. Do I want to chat? If you met me you know I never shutup. But am I doing absolutely anything where I would be able to bring something of value to the conversation?

No.

I don’t have a business. No grand innovative idea to bring the community closer together. No works to share or services to offer. No advice to give.

I realize this event is to build connections not just have fun and I simultaneously realize I lack any outlets for someone to plug into.

Anxiety, my old friend, how are you? Staying long?

On the flip side, I have been telling myself that perhaps this is where I start in order to gain these things. Perhaps I need to surround myself with the kind of people who are already doing great things so I can follow in their foot steps and eventually pave my own way.

I want to hear how people got their ideas/goals to become tangible sources of income. I want to talk about my ideas, though they seem small and insignificant at times.

The reason why my goals usually begin and end on paper is because I am too scared that I am not enough to carry them out. Just like I am too scared that I am not enough to converse and mingle with these women tonight.

Fear of inadequacy is a bitch and if I decide to fight her tonight and attend this party I promise to let you know how it goes! I think it is time for me to not only be black but black AND a badass!

-Mac

Put It Down

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I am one person. One friend, one sister, one student, one employee, one body, one brain, one heart. Knowing this to be true, I am not sure why I feel the need to be more for others.

I am never helping someone or supporting someone for selfish gain. In fact, if I were selfish I wouldn’t do half the shit I do for people. Now I am not saying I’m a fucking saint but I really hate to see anyone I love down in any way. If they’re stressed, I’m stressed. If they’re heartbroken, my heart aches. You get the point.

Lately I have found myself constantly trying to heal and help others. Where’s the issue? I need help. I need to heal. I am always going out of my way to do so for others and often end up also having to do it for myself.

I threw a pity party recently and just kept asking myself why. Why did I offer to pay for their meal when I barely had enough for mine? Why did I agree to going out if I was already overcome with anxiety? A plethora of like-minded questions circle my brain as I laid in the dark.

I’ve talked about being insecure before with you guys and though this may have a little bit of “wanting to be liked/loved” involved I have decided that’s not it. Not this time.

I get it. I understand it. I feel it……deeply. Too deep. I know what it’s like to have your heart ripped away from you from the person you trusted it with and have to carry on like you’re fine. I know what it’s like to look at your bills and being nowhere close to paying them. I know the stress of not knowing how you’re going to get from point A from point B. I feel so so so deeply the pain of internal struggles and having mental conflicts within. I know what it feels like to feel alone and without support.

So I make it a goal to do what I can so that my loved ones and people I care for don’t have to feel that way while in my presence.

But who’s doing that for me? Is that my issue? Are my boxers all in a bunch because I don’t think I’m getting proper return on my “investments”?

I just want the people in my life to act like they appreciate what I do. Not do it for me in return. Just at least act like it’s acknowledged. SOMETHING.

It’s just I am trying so hard to deal with myself. I am a handful. A complete mess. An utter fuck up of mental health. So fucking appreciate the fact that I’m smiling and helping you figure your shit out while I secretly and simultaneously am searching for mine. Act like you understand I have nothing to gain but satisfaction out of knowing I helped you out because I care and still don’t know how to help myself. The five dollars you asked for might have been my last. The time I offered to go do that activity with you, I might have previously dedicated that time to a self care activity. When you lay on my shoulder crying, try to understand more than likely my sleeve that makes that same shoulder so soft has tears of my own soaking through it.

But guess what? No one forced me. Not one person said “if you don’t come we won’t be friends anymore.” Nobody said “if you don’t help me pay for this you will die a horrible death.”

At some point I confused feeling someone’s pain with fixing their pain. I think the worst part is the select few who make me feel bad for deciding I can’t handle their pain after trying to for so long. SO not only is it not appreciated but I am made out to be a bad guy if I don’t. Again, no gun to my head but the subtle implications here and there that I am not as good of a person as they would like me to be for them is loud.

I AM TIRED. I AM TRYING. I AM CARRYING BURDENS THAT AREN’T MINE. I AM HEAVY. I AM DROWNING.

I carry a bag of burdens on my back comprised of certain loved ones struggles. It’s neither appreciated or reciprocated and it’s time to empty the bag. Actually, it’s just time to put it down.

Dropping The Ball

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Happy August! Pushing good vibes and positive energy to all of my readers as we begin a new month. I love the beginning of the month because I always view it as a fresh start and no matter how much I thought I couldn’t handle living the month before I still managed to survive. So I am actually really happy to see August arrive because whew chile, the ghetto!

The month of July was a motherfucking shit show guys. From losing prized possessions to crying in the freezer at work next to potatoes and hot sauce. Yesterday, I watched as my friend lit a torch to her wax rig and handed it to me so I could inhale slowly as I swirled the hot pipe around in the sticky substance. As I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dance in between us, I let out a sigh of relief. It was the first of the month and we made a pact to simply do better, be better. As I got ready for lunch, she artistically drew up my budget for me down to each day of the month. I felt like finally I was in the right mindset to get back on track.

budget saving money GIF

With everything that happened in July I felt so disappointed in myself. The pity party was in full effect. I constantly found myself reminding myself that things were not going at all how I envisioned they would be going at this time in my life.

When I spoke with close friends and family about what I was going through and the feelings of guilt and failure I was overwhelmed they all said pretty much the same thing:

Shit happens Brit. It’s life. Life goes on. Life is full of lessons. Some lessons require a bit of pain. Learn from it and move forward.”-

Big Sis Jazz
hot mess hug GIF by OWN: Oprah Winfrey Network

It still took some convincing on my end. I prided myself for quite some time, especially after losing my mom, on being responsible even through the hardest situations. I genuinely just felt like I dropped the ball, and I did, but the ball was heavy to begin with and I had to remind myself that all I had to do was pick it back up.

It’s August 2, 2019 and dammit I am picking that ball back up. Is it still heavy? Hell yea, maybe even more so than before! I am a strong ass bitch though and I’ve got this. I need to incorporate positive affirmations into my self speech because if I tell myself I can’t do it then I never will. (I can be pretty damn convincing.)

I am excited to see what I do with this month and what I can accomplish. I am rooting for Mac and I am rooting for any of my readers that need to pick up that ball, as heavy as it might be. You can do this!.

Figuring Out How to Figure It Out

Mac

In my absence from this blog I lost my mind. I could not seem to find the common sense and thinking abilities needed to function successfully in society. Since you last heard from ya girl I impulsively quit my job (the one I previously wrote about being so grateful for),dabbled in some drugs (do NOT judge and I will explain later), got into fights, stopped paying just about every bill in my name, and barely left the house.

I won’t lie and pretend that by returning to the blog and writing again it is an indication that I am much better. I AM NOT! I can’t say I’ve come here to share with you the breakthrough I had and provide with you the experience of much needed reflection either. I ain’t got none of that shit for you bud. I’m just here to tell you I am trying to figure out how to figure it out. This is me making a plan to make plans. Setting a goal to make and achieve goals. Making a good decision to make good decisions. I started this blog to provide an outlet and a space for people who felt like noone understood or who just wanted to know there was a girl out there also trying to stay alive despite her fucked up mind. Sometimes, I get discouraged from posting because I feel like nothing will make sense and it will defeat the purpose. But that’s just it! Feeling like nothing I say will make sense and having a hard time expressing, well…..my hard times, is probably the MOST relatable thing I can say on a blog like this.

I need to shower and get ready for work in a bit. (Yes, I found another job and managed to keep my apartment and car) I don’t want to constantly abandon this blog because though I have very few readers I do recognize it as a very important part of my goals and aspirations as a writer and communicator. Later we can discuss why I ALWAYS self sabotage by distancing myself from beneficial things when I become severely depressed, anxious, or saddened. I don’t know why but we can certainly discuss it. See you soon! I fucking promise!!!!!

Are You Part of the Social Media Switch Up?

Mac

The social media switch up is RUTHLESS these days! What is the social media switch up? Let me tell ya.

The social media switch up is when social media completely switches their view or mentality on a person or a subject. Now of course this is generally speaking and not for every individual on the internet. This switch up is not necessarily a factor of “cancel culture” either which is another storm in itself. The social media switch up will turn stans into hecklers over night. This activity thrives on the Twitter front and some victims are well known with names in the lineup like Jaquees, Ariana Grande, and Ella Mai, and most recently Demi Lovato (we most definitely will be discussing her soon).

The victims of the social media switch up that’ll be covered today came as a pair in a way. Ella Mai Howell is an English singer and songwriter who rose to fame with her single Boo’d Up in 2018. This single was EVERYWHERE! Everyone knew the words and were singing along including men with their timbs on and glocks in their pants. It was a whole bop and to top it off Ella is fiiizziinnneee so everyone was stanning. Everything was going great until along came a Jaquees.

Rodriquez Jaquees Broadnax, known as Jaquees, is an American R&B singer. He is most popular for his single B.E.D. in 2016.

When someone decides to “cover” a song that means they sing a song they do not own and that is exactly what Jaquees decided to do with Ella Mai’s Boo’d Up AND her single Trip.

Ella received backlash for removing the remixes and sending cease and desist. It was confirmed that Ella Mai was not to blame because her label sent the documents and removed the covers not her.. However, after seeing support of his covers, Jaquees began to cover more and more songs from other artist and well people got tired of him soon after that. Here is some evidence of this particular social media switch up.

Act 1 of the Quemix Switch Up:

Act 2:

One minute they love you and the next they want you to shut the fuck up. OY VEY!

Now even though these are different people this is the way the general public reacted. This is just one example but it shows that it doesn’t take much for the twittersphere to drag you from a pedestal that they put you on in the first place. So if you’re in the limelight now be careful! The social media switch up could be right behind you!

P.S. Boo’d Up is great but shouldn’t have been Ella Mai’s debut single. Her song “Naked” is MUCH better. Check it out below, see if you agree with me, and have a good day people!