If unaware, allow me to explain Twitter.
Twitter is basically one person jocking another person; one person talking shit about another person; everyone and their mothers wanting attention, to the point where they'd sell their souls for retweets, favorites, mentions and whatever else; I've come across a few that care about their number of followers than their own relationship.
Then there are some who became self-proclaimed Christians or followers of Jesus Christ no sooner than they learned how to download a Bible app.
Don't get me wrong: This doesn't describe the majority of Twitter accounts, of course not, as there are many on the social media platform doing big and bigger things; putting in work on spiritual, professional levels. I followed and engaged more than a few of these inspiring accounts in '08 when I created my now-defunct account.
Used properly, Twitter can be a blessing.
But when it comes to the empty, boring, untalented and non-gifted accounts willing to do anything under the Sun for attention, even cyberstalking and invasion of privacy, it can be a curse.
Let me clarify:
Years ago, seven years ago to be exact, an Empty Bucket named Tracy Robinson or @hungrybutfine or Instagram: Traycee30 and I called ourselves liking each another. We were familiar from the blogosphere in '08 and exchanged emails occasionally until one regrettable day in '10 she said she needed me to call. She gave the number; I called.
Regrettable, I say, cause, looking back, I should've known she suffered mental illness.
As soon as she answered the phone, she started crying, talking about her son's behavior in school, feeling like she was a bad mother. In a compassionate way, I asked why not call his dad? She said she couldn't find his dad; his mom had recently passed in Missouri and she didn't know how to contact him. So then I asked why she felt like a bad mother? She said her son had caught her having sex a few days earlier which led to a change in his behavior. None of what she said made sense, but I listened.
In the few minutes we talked, I realized her tears had nothing to do with her son. She was crying, cause his dad had chosen to be with his other baby mom in Missouri. According to Robinson, the woman had a son the same age or near the same age as Robinson's son. It felt like there'd been some sort of ongoing feud between the two women. Robinson lost, of course, which, in the years to come, remained a common theme in her life involving men.
Curious, I asked why she and her son's father stopped being a couple and she said he'd always accused her cheating.
Anyway, later that evening, our conversation turned to sex.
We discussed different things, but mainly sex. The child's behavior was the furthest thing from her mind. In fact, she never mentioned again.
That night, she sent pics of her in panties and no bra. Robinson dated, she said, but nothing serious. Based on our conversation and sending nudes to a man she didn't know at all, it was obvious she was a freak. As the days passed, and our conversations continued, she gave the impression she'd like to be with a woman.
We discussed threesomes.
Those conversations continued for months. One night, around '11, I allowed Robinson to listen to me have sex. The woman's moans and spanking sounds turned her on. this point, she wanted badly to have a 3some. Since I couldn't leave the state around this time, my homeboy planned to drive me to her city, some four hours away. There were be no 3some with the woman, but Robinson was open to us possibly flipping her once we arrived. They once talked on the phone, but he declined after seeing her pics, saying she wasn't attractive. So that visit never transpired.
Unfortunately, the woman with whom I lived caught me and another woman leaving a restaurant and moved back to Houston, shortly afterward. After graduating college and nursing school and working an agency job in the state, she'd always talked about returning to her home state, and finally did. Saddened, I followed her to Houston for the next two months, trying to change her mind.
During this time, Robinson and I hardly talked. I I might've dialed her once or twice and exchanged a few, short sentences. I explained the situation between the woman and I. To my surprise, she expressed feelings for me, saying she felt in over her head after I'd treated her like she meant nothing the past couple months. No phone calls, texts, Twitter, emails, anything.
Although I wanted to ask what was she talking about, cause it all sounded crazy, I explained how my cell phone was on the woman’s account and she'd taken the phone. So if anyone called/texted, I couldn't have known. After ending the call, I thought about how crazy Robinson sounded. How could she believe we were anything?
Anyway, once I returned home, alone, Robinson and I returned to sex talk. She wanted to hear me in bed, again. I reminded her that she owed me a listening. She couldn't find anyone to have sex, though. Eventually, she hooked up with a nigga that had recently been released from prison. She called early one weekend morning, but I was asleep and laying besides the woman I’d been busted, months earlier. I listened to Robinson's moans for a few. The call ended after less than a minute.
Since I'd begun spending the majority of my time with the new woman, I barely talked to Robinson, besides emails or Twitter where we cracked jokes and asked what the other did on weekends. Besides those exchanges, I did my thing. And she did her thing.
This was pretty much normal for me, though. I could talk shit with women from the blogosphere for months at a time and then completely disappear, like it wasn't nothing. Because it wasn't nothing.
While the woman and I blossomed, Robinson and the ex-convict broke up. Once he got on his feet, he found a better woman. And this is where she returned to calling, wanting sex, threesomes. I asked why she never had a threesome with him, and she said they'd tried, but the woman looked like a man. Robinson wanted to be with a woman that looked like a woman. Anyway, I knew she was sleeping with different men. She admitted them. The ex-con, a friend of the ex-con's friend and one of her son's little league coaches. The entire time, she begged me for sex.
Now, there are moments in life I refer to as "Defining Moments," and as far as I was concerned, this was her defining moment. I wanted to say she was a nasty broad. But instead asked if she was empty inside? Cause to me, that's the behavior of an empty soul. "Empty than a motherfucker," were her exact words.
Of course this turned me all the way off, so, combined with enjoying good company, I had no desire to be with Robinson, sexually. Besides her being nasty, I’d no desire to cheat anyway, after losing the previous woman the way I did.
I never said these words to Robinson, though. I asked other things like how could she lay up with other men in bed and not worry if her boyfriend would show up? She said he always called before stopping by. She said she slept with the coach at his home. I asked how did she end up sleeping with her son's coach and she said they had a football game in Texas and everyone got drunk in the hotel and they ended up having sex.
Soon, Robinson began calling too much, so I stopped answering her calls. I never answered on weekends, anyway, though. She's send some crazy texts which I ignored. And this is where the problems began. This is where she began slandering and putting my personal business online. Eventually, I blocked her. She'd apologized and asked me to unblock. This became the norm: We'd talk about nothing. I'd stop answering. She slander me. I'd block. She'd ask me to unblock. I'd unblock.
It was nothing to me. I felt she'd get the picture, sooner or later.
And then one night I received a blocked call. I answered and heard sex on the line. It never dawned it was Robinson. I thought maybe someone had mistakenly laid on their phone, whatever. I didn't find out until the next day that it was Robinson. She admitted, and we talked about it. She said she enjoyed knowing I listened to her in bed. She said other things, all of which revolved around her sexual fantasies.
Robinson began sending vagina pics. Unfortunately, she texted one while on her cycle, and I saw the blood...
If that wasn't enough, she texted a pic of her booty and there was a smeared shit stain along the crack of her bootyhole. For some reason, she took the pic bent all the way over as if she touched her toes instead of taking it from the side, like a normal person.
Anyway, I was done.
If that wasn't enough, she texted a video of her undressing and, once she slid her panties down her legs, I noticed dark stains in the crotch area.
If that wasn't enough, when she bent over, I noticed her vagina didn't close. It remained open the entire time. I'd never witnessed anything like that before in my life.
Now, let's place everything into perspective: Robinson saw the pics/video before pressing send, yet sent them anyway. In my mind, Robinson was/is the “disgusting thing” mentioned in scripture and clearly suffered mental issues.
Days later, once she realized I was appalled, I explained blood on the pic, she asked why didn't I tell her?
But why did I need to tell when she was the one who sent the pic? I asked what was wrong with her? Cause something was definitely wrong. Eventually, Robinson admitted depression in a text where she expressed how friends were getting married and starting families and she had no one and her son's dad left her to support him by her lonesome. She said her life had gone backwards the last few years.
She wanted a man to save her, basically.
Sympathetic, cause I'm a humbled soul and knew how it felt to suffer life's heartache, I shared another heart to heart talk with Robinson about how I endured and eventually overcame it all. It was said to say that she could do the same if she made better decisions. I discussed the betrayal of my baby mom and her brother and the subsequent years of missing my daughters after they were shockingly removed from my life. I discussed losing my home and a small fortune in the process.
Strangely enough, this is where Robinson and I began knowing each other, like really knowing each other, although a couple years had passed.
For me, sex with Robinson was an afterthought. There was no way in the world. I didn't want anything, and she knew I didn't want anything. In my mind, she'd be alright. She'd get herself together and earn the things she wanted in life. True enough, she was empty and suffered daddy and men issues. But I insisted she'd overcome anything in life if she wanted to overcome it.
Although I didn't want to be with Robinson, I believed myself to be a friend. So, to lift her spirits, I sent roses on mom’s day. I did other things too, like wiring $100 to help with her son's school clothes and buying her lunch and them dinner when she had no food.
Unfortunately, after telling her one night that our calls would come to an end, she cried on the phone for nearly 5 minutes. I told her we'd remain online friends, but the calls and texts would cease. Now here's the thing: I knew she was acting. Her tears reminded me of being at a funeral and hearing the cries of someone who's clearly pretending or wanting attention.
I ended the call. Again, she returned to slandering me online. Again, I advised her to stop. She blocked me and continued slandering, initially denying the slander then admitting, then saying no one knew who she was talking about.
But I knew who she was talking about. Due to her emptiness, she continued.
And this is where I called Kyle Dowling or @12kyle, cause they portrayed themselves to be friends.
Come to find he was even more of a bitch and used her like an empty bucket to further his own agenda