Way Back When

5/2/2006: Yes, I found a way to lose today's post and blow out yesterday's comments by adding haloscan to my blog...

But I remember what you all said...


Rose and Dominique: Thanks, That uniform got me into a lot of trouble that I can brag about today...

Chubby Chocolate and Nikki: I prefer current Hassan to late 80's hassan as well. I think the only thing that has remained the same is the eyes...

Minority: That statement is soooo true. Without hip hop, I would be one loney man living without direction and running afoul... (insert Primo instrumental here)

Nsane Lee Sane: That was 18 years ago!!!

Yazmar: That was 18 years ago and yes that is me. I claim him, but I an no longer him. I forgive him but I cannot forget what was said and did by him because we share the same shell. I can't contemplate being him in 2006 and plus, I moved away from his train of thought and way of life. That is a picture of Hans Williams (my birth name) right before he became a egotistical, emotionless monster and paid killer courtesy of Uncle Sam. My name is Hassan Ntimbanjayo. I changed my name, way of life and train of thought because I could no longer see the face of God when I saw myself in the mirror because I at that time was a puppet of the devil. I spread that over to my friends and family after getting out of the service in 1992/3 (early exit). I saw that I had no redeeming quality as a human being due to me being and doing what I did, so I had to make change and I didn't need quarters. By giving God the glory and accepting that I can be forgiven for my sins and knowing that my life can be useful by being someone other than a foul mouthed, egomaniac soldier trained to do dumb ish was my turning point in this existance.

I also fell in love with the drum and was called and saw Mother Africa...

There are other photos that Al found that I cannot publish here. Let's just say if I were serving now, I'd be one of those soldiers that would be in a ton of trouble for doing what I did and taking pictures of it. I am no longer him, y'all. That's why I cannot recognize him.

Oh and yes, I wrote on the photos back in 89 and sent them to Al in thst condition. I was trying to be funny in my commentary.

I'll post my original thoughts, or what was supposed to be here later after I get home from work...





Hint: If you click it, it gets bigger...



I took this pic in September of 1989 and sent it to my man DJ MorninMan to let him know I was doing okay. I forgot I ever sent this until he did some spring cleaning.

All I can say is wow. I do not recognize myself.

The uniform made me cute though.

Crazy

It's crazy that I still want to do, even when I don't want to do it...
Crazy enough when I wake up each morning I still want to do something with that day...
Crazy that I want to share emotional things with people but don't...
Crazy that I have most of my working parts.
Crazy that I feel misplaced.
It's crazy that one day, it'll all make sense.
It feels crazy because I have nowhere to go...
It's crazy what thoughts actually run around in my head as I type this...
Crazy that I haven't given into that yet.
And that's crazy, because one day, I will.
It's crazy to miss something you never had...
Even crazier to not want something you did at one time.
It feels crazy not being comfortable... All the damn time.
Just as crazy to not be able to pinpoint the good moments as you exist within the good.
I'm crazy for even wanting to say that right now, so I won't.
It's crazy just trying to deal.
With that and all the craziness that comes with it.

And to the rest of the world...

It's all sanity to you.

The need to be someplace else...

Wassup blogfam, Peace and Blessings.

It has not been that difficult in getting back to doing regular stuff, whatever
those things may be. Thanks for keeping me and mine in your verbal and telepathic
transmissions with The Creator. I feel embraced by that and to think, we haven't
even had coffee yet...

I would love to break bread with a lot of you. Thank you.

I'm glad the world keeps moving when you put yours on pause because I really needed
this big blue marble to keep on spinning on it's axis. That's what's helping me get
back to what makes me me right now. Dealing with what happened mentally and
spiritually, now that is a whole other animal, but you already knew that so I won't
get knee deep right now. I'm sure from my writings you can pick up the vibe of my
mood and thoughts right now... Nuff said, so in an attempt to get back to the
regular, I got questions:




Who has relocated that can tell me how one successfully transitions to a place where
family is scarce, friends are few and the lay of the land is unfamiliar as all get out?

I know that a change of scenery is needed for me to settle my soul and be free, and
I feel that I'm being called to a certain region of the US to finish all of my
artsy-fartsy stuff. My projects just can't be completed where I am now and I wish it
could be, but Chicago is not condusive to publishing lit and music for profit and
enjoyment.

That makes me sad because I know that I have to go elsewhere and can't share it
immediately with those that have inspired me to do my thing and watched me grow into
becoming Hassan. When that time comes I gotta phone it in from another place, so
when I shine, they'll only get residual hue and not the arc that is the blinding
light that God has given in talent to me.

I want to know from those that have travelled and made some other place their home
what processes used made the transition smooth. I already know that money (having a
surplus, that is) makes the whole logistical thing go well, but what about the
emotional and spiritual connection to the area and people?

*What actually called you to pilgrimage to this particular piece of land?

*How did you connect when you got there and how long did it take to not look for old
landmarks you were used to seeing in your former hometown while driving or commuting?

*What was that moment when you knew "yeah, I'm home" and felt good about making that
statement?

*How was adjusting to those subtle differences (the lingo, grocery stores and
gas stations, radio and TV, the difference in culture, spaces and places to kick
it to, the racial makeup and differences in dealing with that, etc.), was it a
challange? How much so?

*Did you meet someone that helped smooth it out (family and friends in the new
region don't count)? How did that go?

*Were you immediately accepted or did you have to do all of the accepting and hit
the reset button in your style of being you?

*If you made a move based on employment, was there job satisfaction and fufillment
when you got settled, in other words - was it worth it to move?

*Did or do you currently have that 'temporary feeling'? Meaning, are you just biding
time until you find your 'real home' or have you planted roots after realizing that
wherever you are is where you're supposed to be?

*How do you bridge the gap when it comes to seeing and spending time with family you
left behind? Word is born son, I need to be around Ma Dukes (vintage Kane), the sibs, Granny
Grand as well as my neices and nephews (fa' shizzle) on a more than regular basis, so and
as long as Jet Blue, Air Tran and Southwest exist, I will be at mom's house dropping
loads in the bathroom (vintage Cube) damn near every other weekend eating. Something
bad for my heart. On the forilla my nilla (vintage Geto) we at Ma's flat grubbing, no shorts - and
that's my word. Quit being greedy and pass the haat sawce!


I'll bee dat
I'll bee dat       (Reggie Noble is helping a brother cope... deal with me, please)
I'll bee dat
I'll bee dat


I was speaking with an old friend with a new status and heard this horror story about
adjusting to a new world while dealing with a love interest they moved there to be
with. Know that there is nothing like that for me right now, I just know that I need
to be elsewhere and at this point finding love is absolutely not on my agenda.

My focus on surviving beyond 35 in a world not geared torwards me or my interests
consumes all of my time and thought. I worry that I won't have the monthly payment
to pay the old folks home so they can neglect my stank ass when I'm 80. I know that
there won't be any social security, plus, who can live off of $444 a month anyway?
I worry about not being able to put in the time needed with a company to become
vested and having enough ends to retire and take care of my mortgage, the wife's
shopping habit and Junior's 36 year old as still mooching off of old Pops. There is
no company loyalty and way too many layoffs, so I gotta find a side hustle or two
and invest that loot to make sure I can continue chewing.

Daddy needs a new set of dentures.. Or implants it is 2006.

I feel so disconnected and spiritually void living in Chicago, but I love this place
so much. I can't imagine having a relationship, getting married or having kids here
because I know that I would pass that brokeness, that burden this enviornment lays
on me over to her and down to my children, so I must set myself free of this place
and this vibe. Right now, the habit of blogging and having contact with my extended
family is what keeps me going. I need those virtual shoulders to lean on at this
moment so if you could indulge a brother, it would be so on point.



I need advice, guidance and input so I'm asking you. What can you tell me?

I know now that I must leave this place...

Chicago feels funny.

Not that it didn't after last week and the week before (understand that until I have total comfort and peace with what happened I will talk about it, so bear with me), I just feel like a stranger here now more than ever. I can't stop drinking... I can't stop seeing him laying on that slab in that blue coroner's bag with the back of his head missing.

He had his head turned to the left as if he was flinching in order to miss the shot.
He got hit in the lower part of the right side of his mouth... That bullet travelled down his spinal area and destroyed everything in its path.
He also got hit in the right side of his neck... the bullet came out of the left side of the back of his head, That part of his skull along with some tissue is missing.

I keep seeing that
I keep seeing that
I keep seeing that

The had him in a blue zipped up bag, naked and fresh from autopsy. They cut him from belly button to breastplate, researched his insides and used the skin from his chest to braid his body shut after exploring. It is the worst thing you could ever see, even if a person is dead.

And I can't picture nothing else in my head. I have killed 2 gallons of Skyy Vodka and at least 3 cases of beer since Sunday just to function enough to go to work and deal with all the shiny, happy people that are at my 2 jobs...They seem to care about nothing else about anything else in this world.

I spent my Thursday (which was my birthday) acknowleging his cremation... And I got calls on my cellphone during this process wishing me a happy birthday. I wish I could have shared my pain as I answered those phone calls all normal and shit, but life goes on for everybody else, and I'm supposed to just put the happy voice on the phone while someone I know and love gets baked at 1200 degrees at that same moment? Right?

Ayesha calls me during the cremation process and doesn't realize where I am or what I'm doing... She has the unmitigated gall to be angry over me ending a call with her as I am with family during this tragic moment... She even snaps off on me because my ending that call hurt her...

I hope you NEVER have to see a 14 year old child with his brains blown out and then deal with rest of the world like it never happened...

And you're hurt and angry?

Tell that to Lil Bill, who never took a life but wants to kill everyone involved with taking his little brother's life. This is something we still have to address, because it won't go away.

Fucking wow.

Call me selfish... I will never be done with talking about this... Hopefully for you, the reader I will just let this go and blog about other shit, right?

In a solid, working class neighborhood, how does a 14 year old boy get shot point blank in the face?

by another kid!!!

answer that...

I was working out and studying for the exams for what was considered to be my plan B in perusing a career in law enforcement, but I now know that I do not have the balls to be heartbroken again by seeing another child laying on a slab, that and me having to tell another parent/sibling/significant other that someone felt they had license to end their beloved's life all willy nilly is no longer an option. Being a Chicago cop is out of the question. Going to Georgia to do the cop thing is out of my plans as well.

But Chicago still seems funny.

None of my friends here understand what I'm going through.
And I fell in love with Georgia when I revisited.
Decisions, decisions, huh?

I now must find another plan B to replace the guaranteed pension and tax breaks and consideration that a cop gets on the regular... What that is, I don't know.

I'm not complaining, but in the past year or so, I ended a relationship that I thought would lead to marriage, found what I thought to be a possible replacement of that in a prospect of new love and fulfillment in a relationship and got burned as I fell hard for her and fell out of favor with her in the same breath, lost a good friend to the streets over some bullshit, got shot at my damn self over similar bullshit, ended up job jumping into extreme boredom due to a fellow co-worker's error prompting my previous employer to mass fire my whole department, had to get a second job because of new debt (new car/fuel costs), well mostly new boredom because I do need extra money to relocate and I especially need to stay stimulated and motivated (meaning I can't sleep or create) during this process, took on the burdens of a couple of people that are special to me and let that beat me into a spiritual void, and now, losing a recently turned 14 year old black man to be to the streets.

I'm tired and I need a break, but I'm not down because of this, believe that.

I know that the creator has a master plan. I know that there are big things planned for the kid. I try not to focus on the negative in a sense that it gets me down, but I think these things happen (to me) because I need to find my place and act (proact and react) accordingly. I am not the first person to lose a family member to violence on the streets. I am not the first overemotional, heart-on-my-sleeve, wide open guy to have his heart broken by a younger woman. I am not the first person to damn near get burned by the street hustle. I am not the first to stick my neck out for a friend or loved one and end up carrying the emotional weight for a minute while they go on a 'feelings vacation'. I'm not the first cat to get fired for something someone else did.

And I won't be the last, so I release all of that by blogging about it. I want to let you know that I will keep getting up, but also know that I'm becoming arthritic due to the repeated blows and it's getting difficult to pull myself off the canvas (did you see Chris Byrd get his ass kicked by Dr. Klitchsco Saturday? Damn shame, huh? Right in front of his wife and kids...) but I still do and will continue to until I take my last breath. These aren't temporary setbacks dealt to me but serious ass life events, but in rebounding I gotta treat em' like small setbacks or they will snuff me out.

How do I get over the heartbreak of losing a brother? I speak to and spend time with my other brothers. I cultivate relationships with them young cats I look down upon with disdain, anger and sorrow. I must accept them and try to get through those thick hip hop marketed skulls.

Entertainment/Reality? It has to be explained. Rapping and hustling aren't the only ways to get out of the hood. I have to let them know that they see God when they look in the mirror. I must release the anger and resentment that I have for them as well and reach out instead of pulling my hand back out of anger and arrogance. I must accept them as they are and work to bridge the gap by coming through and spending time, doing real things to distance them from the corner like hanging and playing ball and doing corny shit like camping as well. I must communicate to them that me just getting to 35 and going through my bullshit with faith, relationships, credit, employment and family loss is a triumph in itself because they don't know that yet because they're just shorties. The goal is to get old and then pass on how they made it to another young buck to help them understand and motivate them on how to get there. Just as I hang with my elders sopping up all that old school knowledge and swapping war stories with the brothers at the barber shop and pool hall, I need to exchange those same energies with the shorties so we all can vibe on the same wavelength. Easier said than done, and I know this but I'm willing to try. Until I get my non-profit off the ground, I gotta roam the streets like Kane from Kung Fu and have presence in the hood and politick on the corner just like Jesus did, but continue to compose my scrolls like Muhammad (and have a down ass chick like Kadijah at my side as well), and get my energies right and exact and exchange them so they can learn to deal with the mindfuck like Buddha did. No excuses, because we are a dying breed, and we currently live in the midst of death culture. That train of thought brought on by incantation and habit must be reversed and done soon.

What makes me feel good even in my darkest moments is the fact that I wake another day and get a new chance to make anew my covenant with the Creator.

And make something out of what I am dealt.

I never ask anyone to understand...

I'll never do it again, but I gotta ask you...

Aiight, aiight...

I will never drink and drive again.



I am flattered and blessed to have so many people in my corner. For that I am thankful. Keep my family and friends in your prayers... I'll be fine in time.

Apologies again for the driving fiasco.

I am blessed and flattered that you care. I really am.


I must ask the peanut gallery, what pushes you? I mean, what makes it worth the while to get out of bed and do it to death every day? For me, it's the fact that I get another chance when so many others either can't do or just don't get it that there is another chance. The reset button (to a point) was pushed and there is another shot.

That's my reason, what's yours?


How's your retirement plan looking? Mine is non-existant and right now I have no clue as to where money will be coming from to take care of my old stank ass. Does anyone have a game plan implemented? Care to share? I do have my writings that are set to be published, but only my mother has actually promised to buy a book and a CD, so I need a solid plan B. An opportunity opened up for me in Georgia to join 3 different law enforcement agencies. After what I saw last week, I'm not sure if I'm cut out to see young men murdered and have to tell the parents about it. I don't know if I have the stomach to leave a home in which I know wifey is getting her ass beat by her loving husband. What if I jack some dude up ans see him at the A&P? You can best believe it'll be on.

My talent is plan A. My degree is plan B and C. Law enforcement is plans D, E and F. Do I need more options? Then tell me?

How many bloggers are coming to Atlanta Memorial Day weekend? I plan on being there, and I plan on performing a few pieces at a spot or two as well. Maybe we can have wheebarrel races down Piedmont. Potato sack races down Peachtree or spy some male hookers on Cheshire Bridge Road? What about going to all of the stripclubs and canvassing the stripper population to see if we can unionize thier asses? What if we can help mount a scrippa strike? That'll be fun... Well not for a lot of hard up dudes...

If you haven't done so already, make sure you get down to New Orleans and/or hit the secret internet site (EDIT: I was made to take the link off - the law didn't think it was a good joke) and vote for Ray Nagin. Hell, most of you drove down there and illegally copped one of those $2000 debit cards to score some new rims, Jordans and baby clothes (wassup get-it girl you know how you are... and you owe us lunch too!), you might as well recycle the black hook-up and put Whining Ray back in there for another term. If we can re-elect Bush, then Ray Nagin should get a 20 year term. Funny shaped head ass nukka...

Was I wrong for siphoning fuel for my neighbors van this morning so I can get to work? Gas here is over the $3 mark and we're creeping to $4. We should all go in on a gas card via pay pal and use it in multiple states. I'll report it stolen a month from now which means we all drive for free (I swear, if I get an email on this...).

I wasted over $100 on XM Satellite Radio for my new car and my office. Now that the Neo Soul channel is gone... I'm back with my iPod. Getting back with an ex has never felt better. www.live365.com has a good neo soul channel... Pay the 5 bux and tell em Hassan sent you... Or Large Marge.

The Cleveland Cavs have admitted that keeping LeBron James on their payroll will be damn near impossible. Which NBA team can afford dude, or will he play himself out of the NBA due to being too expensive, barnstorm with the And1 vs Nike tour and take on all comers? The kid is so good that no one can afford him. Shame, he's only 21. Oh snap, the Bulls and Bobcats can...

Do you care that Barry hit a home run this weekend? Will the press leave him alone, or will the witch hunt continue?

Do you care that Dave Chappelle's movie was dropped from half the theaters carrying it? Did you see it? Is this cat the modern day sambo a.k.a. "Mantan 2006"?

Do you care that Ludacris called Oprah out on her boycott of him? Ms. Winfrey has excluded him from her 'Crash" worship services, soooo...

Do you care that the other exotic dancer that performed on Duke's campus for the lacrosse team said that there was no rape and that she saw or experienced nothing?

Enquiring minds want to know...

Who hand-washes thier underwear?

And so...

We turn the page.

To all those that stopped by and showed love, I can't say it enough... Thank you.




Today is supposed to be my birthday and normally I don't celebrate it. I've been sitting around the house all day, bored and not wanting to come outside. I'm still thinking about Jordan. The police gave us good news, somewhat. There was video surveillance and there should be an arrest soon. I really hope so.

Jordan's funeral was last night. It was very heavy trying to deal with that. Everything went as well as expected. There were over 300 family and friends that came out to pay respects to this incredible young man. The turnout showed how much love was out there for him. I really felt good about that.

We went out drinking last night, and for the first time ever, I drove my car under the influence. I will never do that again. I put my life and others at stake. To hell with I made it home safely statements, I was wrong. I am amazed at how I was not in control of my decisionmaking process and now I see how that shit can kill.

I am sorry.

I have no excuses as why I did what I did. I am blessed that I got back to the burbs from the city in one piece.

I really appreciate the phone calls, texts and emails received in the past week. Thank you. I am surprised that some of my fellow bloggers communicate the way they do offline. My phone number was obtained and passed around like it was written on a bathroom wall. Whoever did that... Thanks. It was good to hear your voices, some for the first time. It has been hard to function this past week, but I watched a strong family become stronger. This is God's will and we must accept being in it.

I am turning the page, literally. I 'm finishing my lil ol' MySpace page, and am working again on my Blackisms page as well. The outlets for my outbursts will be back in due time. I have new focus because of what happened, I feel like I have purpose.

You'll see.

I'm going outside to play. You never know when or if the sun'll shine for your stank ass...

Peace and Blessings....

and thank you all.


Hassan