Version 2.0

Culture, healing, politics and bullshit - Not necessarily in that order

The general, socio-political and very personal rantings and ravings of a hip hop head from the hood hustling for change... Of himself.

You all know me and are aware that I am unable to remain silent. At times to be silent is to lie. For silence can be interpreted as acquiescence.
—Miguel de Unamuno


Thursday, September 29, 2005

Don't Miss That Train

I shot this back in July when I was considering coming back to the city.

One of the things I miss about the concrete and steel is the sound of the train.

One day I might go back and sample that. Put it in one of my records or something.

Get on a train this weekend.

Go somewhere.

See something.

Be with people. Yeah... Fellowship

I plan to.

What are YOU doing this weekend?

This weekend I am planning to fast. I am not pleased that the beginning of the month falls on a weekend. My best friend is coming back to the area after spending a few weeks in Cali, his mother passed away and he had to handle his B.I. I'm sure there's a toast to two that's going to be thrown in Mother's honor. I have to find a way to abstain...

I think I wanna give that up altogether. It's not like I have an "adult beverage" all the time anyway. It's like every now and then I have a beer or something and when I do it seems to really knock my ass out (the hard stuff anyway, and plus, I got my fill back in my Army days).

I'm hanging out this weekend with the crew, and I plan on snapping up some pre-fall outdoor shots for the portfolio. Hanging out with these cats and kittens is gonna be rough, they like to eat. And drink. And be merry. I guess this will be a test for me. I'm not worried right now, but then again I'm not seated at the restaurant trying to find the vegan section of the menu...

About the fast. Basically, I'm passing on red meat and alcohol (that's easy). I also plan to stay away from foul and concentrate on fish and vegetables. No eating after 6pm and I plan on getting in at least 5 miles on the road (not the gym, I need to get out in it instead of simulating it) before work. Prayer and meditation twice daily at a minimum (I have sooo slipped in that category). I plan on reading one book a week that will help me improve self, and putting half my salary away to pay stagnant bills. That's right, no X-Box 360. That's okay, expensive time waster anyway.

I've been having the urge to contact an old friend, been that way for over a month. We were an item, and then we weren't. I think she's hurt. There is a soul tie from long ago. I'm not sure if I should contact her. I'm afraid. Fasting and prayer will probably enhance what I feel I need to do. She is a friend and I would want nothing more than to just hear her say "I'm okay".

Enough for now, I wanna enjoy my Friday.

Enjoy yours.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Exactly what is black entertainment?

So I'm watching the BET Comedy Awards last night (okay, I was actually flipping... Commander In Chief didn't hold me) and I came across one of my favorite funnymen Mr. Paul Mooney. Paul rehashed his "Nigga Wake Up Call" 2005 skit for 2005; you see it brought down the house as the "Coon Awards" at last year's show. Lil' Kim, Oprah, Michael Jackson all got it from his militant, but brutally funny ass. He basically hit all of the recent snafus and transgressions that the celebs went through and let them know that it was their "Crash" moment (like Michael Brown blaming everybody else for FEMA's failures isn't our current "Crash" moment).

I'm sure most of us in the black blogosphere have seen the movie, so I won't wax poetic on the message that the flick relays about race relations in America today. It seems recently there was no other nomenclature other than "Nigga Wake Up Call" for those precious moments that we're reminded that our status as far as civil and human rights are concerned is pretty low on the totem pole by somebody that has a little authority and feels the need to remind us that someone else is in charge.

I know that we all serve a different master and the matter of who's in charge can be debated. I'm sure there will be an email (as usual) as to who actually controls the human condition, but I digress... Paul Mooney save his best verbal lashing for Miss Diva herself (as he called her) Diana Ross. Mooney dug up the drunken driving incident from a couple of years ago where Ms Ross was pretty damn drunk and was stopped by a police officer that stated that "she was incoherent and could not complete a sentence". Mooney (and I quote) said:

"She was so drunk, when the officer opened the door, she just fell out. She said (slurred speech) Do you know who I am? Yeah, you're drunk bitch and you're going to jail"

I laughed. It was funny, somewhat.

Wait, there's more. I didn't know about the cut segment. Diana's ex-husband and Tracee Ellis Ross' father recently passed during a mountain climbing trip. Mooney used an additional 3 minutes to joke about his death as Tracee sat in horror in the front row. She didn't sit there long. Reports have it that Tracee burst into tears and made her way to the back/lobby area because Paul's diatribe was too much for her to bear. To joke about celebrity mishaps is a way of life for a comedian, but to trample the emotions of a guest and nominee of the show by mocking her father's death is totally tasteless.

Now BET did cut the segment and did not air the things Paul said about Tracee's dad, but chose to run the jokes about Diana. Tracee did make her way back to the front row to attend the rest of the taping, and Steve Harvey (host of the show) came out a segment or two later and apologized to her for "jokes done in bad taste". He also complimented her on her strength and her position in black America as far as dealing with her parents issues and still coming out and putting on a good face to represent her show (which was nominated for numerous award categories).

Luckily, there was press backstage chopping game with award winners, and Lee Bailey caught up with Mr. Mooney and got a couple of quotes from Mooney and others:

"How can somebody get arrested for (being under the influence) and go to jail and I be over the top? I think that's over the top, don't you? Agree or disagree, folks. No, comedy is not over the top," Mooney said. "When you are a celebrity and you do crazy stuff, that's the game."

At that point Bailey asked him if thought about the fact that Tracee Ellis Ross was in the room while he delivered his diatribe against her mother.

"I didn't know ... her mama could've been in there, that's not the point. I didn't drive drunk," Mooney shot back. "Now I'm responsible for Diana Ross? If you scrutinize Jay Leno and David Letterman the same way you scrutinize me, then I'll agree with you, but if you don't touch them white folks don't touch me. They say what ever they want to say every night."

Was Paul Mooney wrong?

Was Steve Harvey wrong for apologizing to Tracee? (Some say he was for taking sides)

Was Tracee wrong for bailing out - Coming back?

Why was "nigger" and "motherfucker" used so much by the presenters and performers?

Is BET really "black" entertainment television? I swear, that's the first thing I watched on BET in quite some time. I can't stomach anything else.

Not even 106th and Park.

Oh yeah... Laylah tagged me and now, I regift you with this

Music Video Codes By

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

A Reality Blog???

With so many of us in the black blogosphere complaining of blogger's block, boredom and just plain laziness, I decided that I would take a plan of action to rid myself of bloggersblockboredomlazyitis and give y'all a little insight on how I do...

I'm going to let you folks into my home.

Through the marvels of modern technology you'll be riding shotgun witnessing some of my newest exploits. I need a partner in crime to hang out with a brother as I try new things anyway, so who better than you can I trust to provide an additional set of eyes and ears? You'll witness a lot, and will probably learn a thing or two about me (and how I do) in the process.

And I am so very scared.

There are many processes I need to complete to improve myself, and I need a little motivation to make these things happen, so I plan on opening up to the world so I can get called to the carpet to make change happen. I think what I want is to archive my metamorphosis into refinement. I need change to grow, and I have accepted the fact that I must change everything, from the way I live, to what I think and do to what I put into my body in order for me to live better and I want to share that with the rest of y'all.

And I don't know why either.

Should be fun though.

Music Video Codes By

Who Links Here

Monday, September 26, 2005

Shit, Damn, Motherfucker

R&B Singer D'Angelo Critically Injured In SUV Crash
By Nolan StrongDate: 9/26/2005 11:10 am

Singer D’Angelo was critically injured in a recent Sept. 19 accident in Powhatan County, Virginia. Virginia State Police said D'Angelo, born Michael Eugene Archer, was driving on Route 711 when his 2003 hummer ran off the road, struck a fence and flipped over. D’Angelo was not wearing a seatbelt and was thrown from the vehicle. Police have yet-to-determine who was driving the vehicle when it crashed. A passenger in the SUV, Lynne Sellers, was also injured.
D’Angelo and Sellers were taken to VCU Medical center. As of press time, no further information was available about their medical conditions. Police are still investigating the crash. In April of 2005, D’Angelo pleaded guilty to marijuana possession and driving under the influence of alcohol, stemming from an earlier infraction in Richmond, Virginia. His driver’s license was suspended for a year for the DUI conviction and for an additional six months for the marijuana charge.

Put brother D'Angelo and Sister Lynne on your prayer list.


The singer's attorney and business adviser, L. Londell McMillan, Monday released a statement about D'Angelo.
"D'Angelo is home and doing well. ... His spirit is very positive and he is blessed that the accident was not fatal," said the statement.
Officials at Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Center, where the Grammy-winning artist was flown after the wreck, said the family had asked that his condition not be released.
Another person, Lynne Sellers, also was injured in the wreck. Police couldn't say which of the two had been driving.
The accident occurred in Powhatan County, a bedroom community west of the city. Archer lives in Midlothian, just outside Richmond.
The cause of the crash is under investigation, Barrick said.

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Friday, September 23, 2005

Seven Things

I seem to be lacking in my writing ^here^ these days. I am prepping a column for my blackisms site about Simon Wiesenthal and his affect on me as a kid, and I'm also preparing to fast for the month of October, something that Layla suggested, but I already made a decision on a few weeks ago. I am also prepping to take on a second job at night, forgoing the upcoming NBA primetime joints. That's why I just bought a TiVo thingee. I also plan to pick up an MP4 machine, so I added this to my wishlist.

I also noticed that my photography has crapped out to next to nothing, so this weekend I will snap some of the last remnants of summer, because out here, it's over. I hear the big city I'm from still has summer on lock... Whatever.

You noticed the incompetence once again from our government? This time, we supposedly are prepared for then impending hurricane and told everyone on the gulf coast to evacuate. How many of y'all remember the big-ass riverboat barge picked up by Katrina and deposited 1 mile inland in Mississippi? Well, there are over 200,000 folks trapped on highways exiting Houston and them folks are running out of gas and most will run out because of the logjam to get out. Think about this... a lot of those people stand a great chance to die. If the 145 (and this might become greater) mph winds can throw a riverboat barge 1 mile inward, think about what it will do to those lil' ass cars (PACKED WITH PEOPLE!!!) stranded on the highway. With the current evacuation plans, our State and Federal government may have put tens of thousands of folks in the path of a category 4 hurricane to die.

Some lesson learned from Katrina. First, don't get em', now, get em and leave em' stranded to die. Great. I pray they make it out of the path of the storm despite the "efforts" of government officials.

To take my mind away from this unnatural disaster, I copied and edited this from Layla's blog...
copy and edit amongst yourselves like she said.

Seven Things I...

Plan to Do Before I Die:

1. Have my works published and have best seller (or three, I have that much material) on my hands
2. Finish school the way I want (doctorate, baby!!!)
3. Get married and have kids (this is the hardest part, I'm not ready!)
4. Live in Africa (I visited back in the day, but not on my own terms)
5. Travel North America with my RV and trike
6. Be financially sound so my kids can have whatever
7. Get that much closer to God (might even get ordained)

Things I Can Do:

1. Write
2. Distance run/walk (it's the Army, can't rid myself of the training)
3. Shut people out (for good)
4. Make something out of nothing (food, money, blank canvas/sheet of paper/word processing page, etc)
5. Love hard (I still love you even if I hate you, even if YOU hate me)
6. Ignore pain (back, both knees, left foot, diabetes - that Army training again...)
7. Exist alone (thought I never could - never planned on it either)

Things I Can't Do:

1. Let someone else control my emotions
2. Stop being stubborn and brutally honest (it hurts people sometimes)
3. Tell people what I really want (mostly when I'm in a relationship)

4. Stick with a workout plan
5. Say no (I hate that!)
6. Lie to myself
7. Shut up (I talk too much like Data from Star Trek, so it's very analytical and from logic's standpoint... please stop me!!!)

Things I say most:

1. What?
2. allrighty then
3. mmmmmmkayyyy?
4. hee hee hee (when I laugh, which is everydamnday)
5. I have no clue (mostly at work)
6. You gotta be kidding me!
7. Umm....

Things that attract me to the opposite sex:

1. Honesty
2. Fear of the Creator
3. Hypnotictic eyes
4. Mature/sense of perspective
5. Ambition and drive and vision
6. Tall, with legs from hell (with a great set of... Never mind)
7. Grace

Celebrity crushes

1. Jill Scott (Lyzel is the man)
2. Kimberly Locke (Only one person knows why she's second on my list. Her twin)
3. Amel Larrieux (She is a gift, and yes I know. She's married)
4. Lisa Nicole Carson (Where'd she go?)
5. Tina Thompson (The lipstick thing during the games is a turn-on)
6. India.Arie (still mad that she shed her locs)
7. Margaretret Cho (That's right! Her current incarnation and the way she wears that leather has her on my list)

Notice a pattern about these ladies? Just wonderin' if you're paying attention

Have a drink or two over the weekend for me...

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

It's an Oso Krispie Wednesday

Yeah, Echo was right. The blogger's block disease has hit a lot of us. Maybe it's the change fo season or something...

Anyhoo, mad shouts out to my girl Oso Krispie for winning the competition and becoming "that girl" with TLC. I wish success and great things for her on this new journey. She'll mesh with T-Boz and Chilli well.

Oh yeah, back to blogging... just as Echo did offa Organized Noise 's post, I did the same. A little more about me... enjoy.

A plain T-Shirt and a pair of athletic shorts at home and a fine, tailored jacket and slacks (in other words a good suit, and I'm a big guy as well) when working. Can't leave the house without a sportcoat...

Notorious B.I.G. Ready To Die (reissue)

4:4:45am (that's if I sleep)

Stove (it's where the magic happens)

I play bass and drums, so maybe a brass instrument. The sax is a sexy thang

an earthtone beige/brownish/orange type of brownish beige?

The Little Train That Could


Flames on my forearms. Like this... want one (or two - both arms)


My Grandmother Willa Francis and my Aunt Desiree

Nothing, maybe the cat every now and then.

Saturday. Nothing happens there. And that's how I like it.


Sunflower. Stands tall, looks good and above most gives nourishment. Just like I like my women.

It's OK..Pays the bill I guess

Owning my own, being my own employee (writing, music)

My Focus, my faith and steadiness in times of trouble.

Keeping people at arms distance, my diabetes, mstubbornnessss

Prayer, Spending time alone to think/plot/strategize, sleep.

Grey button down shirt, charcoal grey dress slacks, black leather 3/4 boots

Prince, The Roots, India.Arie

A 30 day fast, cashing a big ass check, purchasing a home

Someone who want/lovess me for me, passion for the arts (and hip hop), the ability to be my equal spiritually/emotionally/mentally

Eyes, hips, fingertips (ok, the whole hand, that just sounds good when I say it)

Be still (at the same place) all damn day, shut up, not think about lost ones (so many have died..Damnmn, can't shake it)

Writing, losing myself in other people's music, reading something

Monday, September 19, 2005

Dissecting My Life Part 2

So now the question remains, if my friends and close associates aren't the ones affecting me then it must be my living situation.

I am currently sitting in the waiting room at a medical center 2 small towns away from where I live. The doctor is Russian American; the staff is also from that region. There are older ladies and gentlemen that have appointments with the doc, I'm waiting in line to be seen and it won't be long. The suburbs is the shit when it comes to seeking medical attention. The only thing is... I'm the only brother in probably a 3 square mile radius, so everyone is looking at me funny. It dosen't help that I'm wearing a suit, but rocking my hair and accessories that keep me uniquely afro centric. Because I conduct business in a corporate environment, I am a suit. A lot of folk ain't used to seeing that, especially out here in these parts. I'm kind of getting used to the looks and stares, but seeing as I injured myself at work and I cut my day short to follow proper workers comp procedures, I was asked for insurance information 3 times. As if I'm up in here, not making any money sitting around a lot of uncomfortable folk for nothing. Trust is a big issue with me, and I don't know why I moved to an area where I am the least seen and most wondered about.

I moved from the city 2 years ago. I thought that I was doing the right thing by leaving all of the concrete and steel behind. Another thing. I needed quiet. Not the silence of the forest preserve, but the silence that the suburbs have to offer. No sirens, no loud car stereos, no niggas hanging on the street corner keeping up racket at all hours of the night. I love my people. I only speak for myself, but I write for the enjoyment of all of us. I felt that I needed a little solace to help my creative side grow. I knew that there would be risks in a black man living where few African Americans lived, but I did not know that it would be like this...

I live in some non-descript suburb now. Getting to and from populated hotspots is very easy, seeing that every road leads to and from you here. All of the roads in the opposite direction push you further into lavish properties, the finest schools and exclusive shopping. It was where well to do's first settled when the big city became overcrowded and industrious. The land out here is actually prairie, surrounded by lakes and streams. It was the perfect place to build a home back then, and its current carnation is still very beautiful and spacious. No tall buildings or overabundance of traffic and concrete. The suburbs is a perfect place to enjoy all the amenities of life and still have wildlife very close. The natural boundaries are respected, and the shopping and nightlife is damn good too. There are is a mix of Arab, Indian and Asian people (as well as a ton of white folk) that share this space. There are a few African Americans in these parts, I'd say about 15%. Segregation is a word not used out in these parts since the Freedom Marches. People are scattered everywhere. Homes, apartments and trailer parks (like you've never seen, spacious and accommodating) is the make up out here. People are friendly and crime is low. Nothing ever catches fire out here, unless someone overbuilt a campfire, so to hear a siren is unusual. There is one big problem out here. It is lonely and desolate for anyone that is not like "them" to exist out here. It's not that I'm black; it's because I'm different and I might cause change that people avoid me like SARS. I kid you not; I've experienced more ignorance and close mindedness than racism living in this particular suburb. The Hindu population sticks together and will help, but you have to extend a hand first. The Asian cats and their families are cool; a lot of younger cats hang with whomever they please. The Arab families are hard working, family oriented people that respect your space.

No one communicates with me. I find that to be suspect.

The cops are predominately young, white cats. Now from my experience, these cats have not been taught a damn thing about tolerance or differences and it shows in the way they speak to people, anyone for that matter. When I first moved out here, I got pulled over damn near every other day and had my motives and actions questioned. Of course in certain instances, I acted a damn fool and was let go. In other circumstances, I was taken to lockup and "held" until I got a clean background check. Since I retained the services of a lawyer, those stops come far and few now. They never scared me and I think they now know that. Some folk were intimidated back to whence they came, but not I.

Because my locks distinguish me from every other brother or sister out here, I think people now at least know that I exist. As much as I shop and consume like the next middle classer, a lot of the neighborhood brood know me when they see me. You can usually tell when a person is genuine and not out to slit your throat, and since I haven't robbed anyone or hijacked the local video store, the comfort level of my neighbors is at an all time high. The fact that most of the nosey neighbors see me as "the suit" commuting to work everyday, respect is given. I do have the occasional "can I touch your hair?" question while standing in the line at the grocery store, and I am afraid to be left alone in a room with a lot of the neighborhood housewives. I already know what they're thinking. I see the looks and hear some comments supposedly made under their breath. But it's 2005 and there is no shame. I have had proposals, and if I was dirty, the whole damn block would have little black ass babies running around. It's that bad. I just shake my head, not only do I not want another cat's woman, the last thing I need is to be indicted for rape or assault, or even worse, to have Maynard's whole bowling team dragging my ass from the back of a pickup...

I miss the city, but I do not want to go back. The cost of living is higher. Crime and accidents raise insurance premiums. Property cost is either too high in exclusive neighborhoods, or nil in bad ass ones. You either get one or another. Fuel costs are higher; there is an additional tax on soda, cigarettes and dining out. Parking is a nightmare, and traffic... No comment there. I do feel that where I live, kinda' like feng shui has everything to do with overall happiness and success. I know that I need to make some changes how I live and that means where, I just don't know what to do or where to go. I do not have a relationship with my family, and I do not want to take steps back, put my tail between my legs and go back there. I was raised in the hood, right down the street from the projects in the belly of the beast. When things get quiet, I reminisce about hanging out late and being part of the noisemaking crew. Sometimes I wish I could just roll out and hang. I also miss the 24 hour access of the city. Nowhere but in the belly of the beast can you eat, drink and hang out at bars, clubs and diners all night long. Something in the city is always open. Out here, things shut down at 9pm.

I also miss being in my element. I guess that's kind of a misstatement. I wish that there were more black-owned businesses and things catered to me out here. I have to travel very far to experience things like that these days, and that saddens me that I can't go to the barbershop and chop game with the homies. And every now and then, I would like a little soul food, or a gyros or something! A little penny candy won't hurt, and maybe I would like to pick up a 40 when I don't want a 6 or 12 pack. These are just little things I know, but there's nothing like getting schooled by some old school cat about our history and in chess at the same time. And even sadder, everybody out here has gas grills, so the summer smells are very different. I really miss the hood. I also miss the new anti-gentrification movement going on with my people as well. As I left the city, there were a lot of areas becoming more and more gentrified, that's when some of the brothers and sisters that could afford to came back to the hood from suburbia and opened shops, galleries and cafes as well as building and buying properties not meant for a lot of us to be able to afford, causing a renaissance of growth, revenue and jobs in the community. I want to be a part of that or at least support it in some manner. Out here, very hard to do. I work where I live and my weekends right now are dedicated to my projects. I feel like I'm stuck.

OK, I've gone on a little too much. I guess you get the picture, I looked at my friends and now I'm analyzing how and where I live. I don't know if I want too many things at once or if I should just stand pat living where I live. A little help please?

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Dissecting My Life Part 1

I think I found the source of my funk... Compatibility. I placed myself in relationships, jobs, clothes for that matter that are a little irregular or the fit is a little oversized, you know not snug enough. I'm sure a lot of you ask yourselves why a whole hell of a lot. Why do I work here, why do I put up with him/her and what in the hell do I live in this neighborhood for? These are questions I seem to ask a lot these days. I've never gotten a clear answer.

Let's start with my friends. My best friend is supportive of me but has no interest in art or literature. He has no desire to immerse himself in the arts, so gallery showings, theater and "the history of" has no bearing on his here and now. I am usually shunned when I bring up those things to him. That's my guy, but I wish there was a Niles to my Frasier. And no, she can't be female. Now this nigga loves the stripclub, well one in particular. If there's air and opportunity, he's on it and I'm always invited to go. Well, let's get something clear, the club is out in bumfuck Egypt so if dude is traveling to trick off some paper, guess who's driving? For me, the stripclub does not hold a warm space in the cockles of my heart. I loves the nekkid ladies like the next cat, but something about spending money to get a lil attention from someone that doesn't give a flying fuck about you and just got off some other nigga, juices still flowing is not very appealing to me. Now don't get it twisted, going out with my dawgs shooting pool, throwing darts and having a few dranks mingling with the ladies is something that I do on a somewhat regular basis, but I do not like strippers. No matter how fat the ass or alluring the body is, I just can't trick off my paper. I respect anyone getting loot legally, but too much cootie swapping and rent thieving goes on up in there for me to wanna go on the regular.

If I don't wanna go to the scrippa club, I get all this heat from ol boy. Like I'm some punk or something because I don't wanna have to go and take a piss in that nasty ass hut of a bathroom where cats is jagging off all out in the open to prevent blueballitis cause ol girl worked their ass up in a lather... And baby just took dude in the back and gave that nigga brain and she's right back out there trying to sit in my lap. Not gonna do it. I gotta work up the ability not to gag when I go, the smell of stale jism and alcohol as well as the cigarette smoke and that nasty ass body wash all the scrippas wear is intoxicating. In the worst way. But I love my boy, we just don't see eye to eye on that club thing...

My closest female ally is in love with a cat that did her dirty... A few times. He has since got in school, redeemed himself in society's eye and is really a model citizen now. They got counseling and shit seems to be working out but she loves dude, got a straight job that she's really into, spends the weekend with him and I can't get no time to hang anymore. Hell I use to call her ass at 2 in the morning and we would go out and snatch a drink and then go have a smoke and a pancake. Literally, she would smoke while we ate pancakes and shit, 4am at somebody’s random all night diner waxing philosophical over everything from quantum physics to if O'so Krispy stands a chance to be that girl in TLC. Although dude is in school all week and she has the free time, there is no time for me anymore. Gotta sleep in so she can be at work in the morning. It's that important. Did I mention I got her that job? Somewhat. Well, I convinced her to quit her job and come and work with me so that pancake run wouldn't be so far. And then I quit... She got promoted and the rest as they say...

I got a flirting buddy. She's in that category because, you know... no nookie. There is trust, respect, conversation, beating around the sexual bush, the sharing of hopes and dreams, sporadic dating and late nights talking on the phone for hours on end. Oh, did I mention we IM the shit outta each other? She has a fear, me. I'm older than she is, been a few places and have done a thang or two in my day. She wants time to do her thug thizzle. She knows that she's the marrying kind, and she knows I'm not looking but if the right situation comes along... she wants time to explore, wouldn't you if you were a decade my junior? But I feel even though she creates distance to maintain her individuality and do her thang, I gotta keep her closer than most. Just gotta. She provides sanity to my "in" and is so much of a balanced woman. She also is an old soul. Like Bernie Mac said "that heifer done been here before." I know what I wanna do in some respects, but I also respect her thang. Sometimes it gets hard cause' I know what I want but I also know what can happen if we bring it together on a serious note. That's where her fears kick in and rightfully so. I had my chance to play and be played in my early 20's and I respect anyone her age that wants to do the same. But on the other hand, I'm not getting any older. To hell with it, I'll continue to be what she wants me to be and where as well. She's good people and I digs her vibe. I was asked if I could be happy even if she did not want exclusivity. I said yeah. If nothing long term comes of this, I am happy to have been a cast member in her life story. That's how much love I got for her. She'll read this, so I say "do you mama, I'm always here".

And then there's this one friend who is my closest confidant. She's my lieutenant and I'm like some secret sergeant providing her with strategies, ammo and secret military files. We think alike so we mentally stimulate each other. Maybe in another lifetime we were either soul mates or we were warrior spies in the same tribe taking out the competition and capturing females to impregnate to further enhance our own tribe's presence, making more warriors for our fight. She says she has a dick, and psychologically I believe that because her overstanding of shit on a man's level is too damn great. She done been here before too, but she was some sort of pimp or an early 1800's lawyer. Them new age cats in the 1800s invented new forms of debauchery. She hasn't found the key to unlock the time machine to speak with her inner pimp/lawyer, but when she does she'll be dangerous. She's a little lost right now or maybe I should say she wandered down the wrong path and knows it. So as she treks back to the fork in the road, she has to make that big decision on which new road to take. This choice will determine where she goes in life and who she does it with. I have been summoned as both guardian and advisor, so I balance both jobs with patience and introspect, laying previous life experiences on her when necessary so she can make informed decisions. This is the only friend where I have a defined role. With everyone else, I need signals, instruction and mood analysis to see where I fit on that particular day. I have exes, associates, co-workers and business associates that I keep contact with and I must say (including the ex's) I have great rapport with everyone. Not that I want to not burn bridges with the ex's, we just knew that our relationships were not working at those respective times and we ended things without incident. Every one. And that includes anyone I've ever done business with as well. Nope, no car damage, restraining orders or bad business rep. I am blessed and lucky.

I guess I am CSI New York to the other's respective locales. I got my own thing and so do all of my friends, we're like an interconnecting TV series where all the major characters have their own subplot and supporting cast just like me. Every now and then we come together like during sweeps week and have a miniseries, but these days, those moments are far and few. Life seems to be taking all of us in different directions and although we'll always fellowship, I see and feel great distance coming between us in the future. This only means that I won't have to purge my friend list. I don't think that any of these relationships are harmful, so everybody stays put. For now. As I write this, I see that I have enough folks that care for me that I don't have to ask why, but I haven't started to analyze my living quarters or job selection, that's another long ass post...

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

The funk.

It has the mitigated gall to follow me, showing up in places I would never expect. It haunts my thoughts and makes me feel less of a man. It has the damned nerve to be at my office, sitting in my chair, undoing everything I’ve set up to represent me professionally. All up in my conversations and shit. Causing me to make mistakes missteps. As much as I love Bootsy Collins and the JBs, I hate the funk. I have to find a way to make it stop.

I don't know how and when, but I’ve been infected by the funk. It has taken over all that I posses and all that I come in contact with. It depresses me, causing me to detach from work, family and friends. I cannot explain why I feel this way. I do not know how to reverse this feeling. Sometimes I have the notion to want to end my life, but I'm a coward. Thank God. For the past week, I haven't had the desire to eat. I haven't had the urge to drink anything either. I can't watch TV or listen to music. I cannot have conversations with co workers right now, my tolerance for bullshit and fronting is very, very low. I wake up, feed my cat, go to work and occasionally instant message a friend or two. I give the 'look off' to those that might want to say something to me as I commute to work. Sometimes I drive, other times I use the commuter train system. Out here in the suburbs, the train system is nice and quiet. I'm sure I ruined a few pleasant rides for a few due to the sour look on my face.

I don't know what’s wrong with me. I lash out at those that feel like they want to help. I am not bipolar, am not afflicted with anything mentally impairing. I have no food aversions, and of course I pray and meditate. Yes, God is top priority with me. I feel the need to damn near get an exorcism. I feel inhabited by another entity. One that pulls me down and steals my desires to do regular stuff. I call it 'the funk' and right now it has me. I really wish I didn't feel down like this, but a year ago today, my best friend and closest family member left this plane and things haven't been the same since. It was a blah day just like the others. I can't remember waking up or preparing for work. I was on automatic and I glided to work, oblivious of anything else. I was in the office and was very efficient that day. I took a break around 10:15 that morning and something urged me to check my personal voice mail. Damn... All I heard was an incoherent message from my sister. She was sobbing and yelling into the phone, but for some strange reason I understood every word. My aunt who was only months older than me, the same woman I shared damn near all of my childhood experiences with, the woman whom I shared an apartment with on two occasions, the lady who needed me to check a couple of unruly boyfriends and a momma's boy of a husband slipped away in her sleep in her new husband's arms. She was a sickly kid, hell she was a sickly adult and it was fitting that she would not have to suffer, but for me life hasn't been the same since...

The funk has had me since this day and death was the catalyst, but from my research there is/was a void there before this even happened.

So my best friend's death is not the void. Something else is missing and God is telling me this. I don't know if it’s a person or me being in a certain place. I'm not hanging out, so I have no influence by the company I keep. Maybe I need to get some friends and have them influence me. Maybe I need to eat. Maybe I need a drink. Maybe I need a grudge fuck and then call it a day. Maybe I need some professional help. Maybe.

Nah, fukdat! I'm gon' stay in prayer. I'm gon' keep getting up every morning and doing the damn thang, whatever that may be. I will not seek medication from a shrink to help me get over the hump. I'm going to fast and pray, go see my chiropractor, get a full body massage, have a drink, get my ass back into the gym more than twice a week and go hang out with my guys. I got people displaced from the hurricane living DOWN THE STREET!!! Just seeing them sacrifice to live normally in a foriegn land sort to speak humbles the shit out of me. I got good health, money in the bank and people that give a shit about my stank ass, and I need to hang out with their ass. Fuk the funk. I will not let it take me under.

Monday, September 12, 2005

So I had a conversation with one of the cats that
work for the disposal service maybe a couple of
months ago. It seems that he remembered our
conversation better than I did. He put the box of
writings I threw away by my patio door. I didn't
see them until late Saturday afternoon, but I did
run into dude that morning. He yelled at me from a
distance. Something about me being wrong.
Whatever. I didn't get it until later.

I no longer want to write. I do not have the
desire to create like I used to. I originally
thought that there was a missing element, some
ingredient needed for the mix not quite there.
There isn't. After thinking about what I need to
do to get ahead in life I realize that writing
isn't a priority for me right now. I can always
read other people's stuff, right?

I have a love/hate relationship with corporate
America. I do not like working in it. I am not
designed for it, but I am trained to do whatever
it takes for me to survive. Working in the
'matrix' pays well and allows me to have access to
communications that I probably would take for
granted if I wasn't working here. Other than that,
I don't want to be here.

I have come to the terms that I'll probably never
get married or have kids. Not that I was looking
to get married, quite the contrary. When you reach
your mid thirties like I have, everybody including
yourself starts to wonder if and when it'll
happen. I think I got here too late or something.

I am not motivated to go anywhere or do anything
right now. Hell, I'm not even watching TV. I
haven't listened to any music for just about a
week. I had a slice of pizza maybe three days ago.
I think since I haven't really eaten anything, I
probably continue this route as a fast. I'm
thinking about mixing Amino Vital with 3 servings
of MetRx and just doing that for a while. Maybe a
month or so. Time to purge the body for a seasonal
change anyway. For what, I don't know. I got
nothing planned.

I changed the requests of my living will. I do not
want to be kept alive on a machine in some sort of
vegetative state. I do not want a funeral. I do
not want anyone blood related to take possession of
my remains. I would like to be cremated and have
my ashes thrown away. I do not want any indicator
of my death to be published other than the morgue
roster and death cert that goes to whatever county
I die in. Under the radar. Just like life. I'd
just like my death to reflect that.

I wish I had something to actually blog about
other than this, but things are slow moving over
here in these here parts. I do pretty much nothing
at work, nothing is going on at home and I
currently have no extra curricular activities to
indulge myself. No plans for any future endeavors,
no hanging out and no flings of fancy to brag
about. I guess this is where I need to be seeing
as I've been here for a while. I kind of like the
quiet anyway. Helps me zone out and think about

Friday, September 09, 2005

Happy in Hate

I guess since everybody's been on this random thought thing and I've been absent for a minute, It's my turn...

A portion of this tragedy down in the delta and the gulf is some of our kinfolk's fault. We did not prepare and did not take Katrina seriously before she hit. We paid for it, let's move on and rebuild.

A few people that I would like to see combust and burn to ash right now on the spot:

Kanye West (never have I wished death on a fellow rapper - oh, wait... He doesn't rap)
Barbara Bush (you hot now, mami!)
Michael Brown (I hear that shit burns slowly)
Did I mention Kanye? (to the remix of 50's "Disco Inferno")
the left side of my family (just like them vampires in the "Blade" series)
Urban radio program directors across the US and Canada (I used to love Mariah...)
The entire FOX News Channel (on the air - I like to watch!!!)

So I'm at home and have overnight packages to send because I'm working from home. I got a handful of prepaid DHL letter cartons that have to get out. So I call the carrier for a pickup...
Great, they'll be here between 2:30 and 4:30. I take a breather from the computer and step outside to find the DHL delivery truck creeping slowly down my block. I have the package in my hand... I step towards the street and approach the truck, waving the bright yellow and orange packages with the corporate logo at the driver. We make eye contact and then... HE SPEEDS OFF!!! I reach for my cellphone and call the carrier to complain. I did. Nothing they can do. Was given some excuse that maybe the driver had a specific delivery time to make, causing him to speed off and not return. I go back outside again, maybe an hour later and guess what? Truck is back... Creeping. This time I approach the driver's window. I speak to him. He's still creeping forward, looking for an address. He's ignoring me. I get in front of the truck. He slams on the breaks in surprise. Yadda, yadda, yadda.... Didn't see me the first time. Didn't see Me approaching the truck (I was at the driver's window, talking very loudly... Whatever.) Makes my next announcement apparently obvious:

I am moving out of the Midwest. Took time yesterday to also look for employers and find living quarters. There is absolutely nothing in the Midwest for me to invest my time into. Physically, spiritually, familywise, emotionally... I just hope that it won't take long for me to get the hell out of Chicago. Nice place to visit...

I threw away all of my writings yesterday. As of right now, I no longer write. Maybe some garbageman will find my shit and create the next great urban American novel...

I erased all of the music and recordings off of my hard drives. I no longer perform music and/or poetry. I am (again) pulling down the blackisms website and I am also no longer contributing to this blogspace.

I am tired.

I am bored.

I am disappointed with where I am in life right now. I'm secretly wishing a quiet death somewhere where no one can save my ass... I had my chances to do things, I blew them all.

Add my name to the combustible list.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Take Care... Of Us and Them

Aiight, let's stop the self love train for a minute and wax poetic on the real...

I know you've been watching the news feeds from down south. Watching our kinfolk and close associates struggle to make it to tomorrow. The media has named our family members refugees. A bunch of folk displaced by Hurricane Katrina are homeless, some being bussed to another state to sit and wait in an unused sports facility for what some say will be months.

There is no school this year for the kids.
There are no jobs for the parents.
Police that were assigned to rescue folks are now on loot patrol (they have been replaced with FEMA agents and military personnel).
The water has been standing for 3 days now and it is infested with waste and disease.
People have taken to the streets and have made their own laws.

It didn't have to come to this.

Most of our people did not have a plan. A lot of our kinfolk thought that the category 5 storm that hit the coast would temporarily hinder the daily grind, so no money was saved, no travel plans hatched and no emergency procedures were implemented. And now we must react. It is already costing us lives, and guess what happens to the living? We pay for the dead and sick.

Now, I am not complaining at all. I volunteered to go down to the Big Easy and help with relief efforts and I hope I'm chosen. I have already donated a portion on my current paycheck to the Red Cross (something I suggest we all do) and for me, that doesn't feel like enough. What I need to do is holla at y'all and hopefully we get some good feedback on how we can be proactive and protect ourselves and also how we can help the fam down there at the same time. After Oklahoma City, September 11 and now this, can we stand another catastrophe without being prepared?

As families, we need to create an emergency plan. Just like the good ol' fire drill, we need to sit down and plan escape routes, meeting places, have proper communication (that extra cell phone) designated CPR persons and also gather emergency rations and medical supplies (insulin, pain relief, stuff for motion sickness, feminine hygiene products, antibacterial stuff, and of course baby stuff) that we can grab on the fly and also put together a little cash and maybe a special little debit card if we have to travel on moments notice. Renting a car or truck or snatching up a plane ticket is not an easy thing if we are not prepared. We can no longer be left behind.

Now as far as helping the folks down south, there will be telethons, auctions and all types of drives and means to donate money, tangible items and time. I will do my best from this blogspot and my blackisms website to keep the streets and the nigganet informed on how and what we can do. Also, in the next couple of days, I will have my own fundraiser popping up (and yes, it will be a legal IRS 502c reportable charitable organization, so stop frontin!!!) and I will probably solicit YOU, so prep yourself for that. I will do my best not to let my people suffer. I hope you feel the same way.