So, the name Breeze Vincinz isn't necessarily a pseudonym or an "alter ego". I guess I always considered myself to be sorta "Trans-Nomenclature"? Like I was born "Breeze" but people identified me as my government name. However, I think I'm reconsidering that whole alter ego thing because "Breeze" has become super adult and angry/political and has shoved all of his offensive, alcoholic, whore tendencies to the side in order to join the Hotep-ish army against sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigots in this country. And I, Breeze, truly just want to suck a dick, have a little vodka and listen to Solange.
I feel an ACTUAL "alter-ego" emerging where Breeze can fight the good fight and “Dice”... the alter alter ego named after my first first dog, can continue happily telling tales of making out with girls because I was too drunk to realize they weren't dudes (true) or promising meth heads at the bathhouse that I would come back with their meth after they gave me $50 then run off to Veggie Grill for some late-night cauliflower mashed potatoes and use the singles left over for the male strippers at my local bar (true) or riding the bus home in my underwear because it was underwear night at the club and I was so drunk I forgot to get my pants out of the clothes check (sadly true). It's so hard to be militant and fun/horny at the same time. Or maybe I am just going stir crazy from this g*dd*mn quarantine.
I have a Pinterest board with all these wise sayings and one of them that struck me was “Live so that you die with memories, not dreams.” That intention has pretty much fueled my entire adult life up until a couple of years ago when I started to believe some of the murmurs of “frienemies” who berated my lifestyle that admittedly is probably more colorful, loud and fuck-filled than someone my age should retain. And when everything went to hell a couple of years ago, I felt it was karma paying me back for neglecting my “career” and finances for all of those drunken nights and multiple participant multiple orgasms (sometimes at the same time). But I’m thinking it was more of a “lesson” than a “punishment”. As I am now FORCED to sit my grey-haired ass down and mull over my adventures... I can’t necessarily say I regret ANYTHING. Even as I sit here career-less and penniless in the lotus position here at rock bottom. For better or for worse, I have lived one awesome fucking life.
And the kicker is, it ain’t over yet, and I got so much more game to play. And as I feel my personal ascension as my income streams have been flowing easy and steady nowadays and I have an actual career and I’m kinda falling for somebody, I guess sometimes it all can be too much. So I think of splitting it up. So far the government name handled the business, Breeze gave head and prayed. Right now I’m thinking the government name takes care of the business and praying, Breeze is the writer who marches for equal rights and pisses of White people, and Dice is the one who gets his hole blown out on a daily basis. (BTW the government name is a boring top, Breeze is a fun versatile, Dice is an insatiable bottom.) I don’t know how sane it is to compartmentalize my personal agendas but I will say it’s super fun to give them names. But to clear up any confusion... I’m Breeze. I remember when Prince tried to change his name to O+> or when Meshell NdegeOcello changed her name to Meshell Suhaila Bashir-Shakur or the flurry of name changes with Puff Daddy and Ol’ Dirty bastard... it just doesn’t stick. It’s hard enough to get people to call you Prince or MeShell or Puffy or Ol’ Dirty Bastard or Breeze. Adding some other shit on top of that just doesn’t seem to work out. And I know who I am. I just like playing around with my Id. I’m Breeze. But if you see a personal ad in one of those dating apps with someone that looks like me looking to fuck two 25-year-olds at the same time because that adds up to 50 and it doesn’t seem that creepy that way... that’s probably Dice. Breeze might do that someday, after the pandemic. I might write about it.