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


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Sunday, September 17, 2006

Talking To Myself

Conversation

I crave conversation with you.

All I want to do is talk to you. You make me want to create new verbs, pronouns and adjectives just to prolong the chat.
I never wanted to share time with someone and explore them from the outside in, this is what I want with you.
I want to know about the trivial and the external and all that you sopped up over the years until it gets deeper.
Every time we speak, I plan on digging deeper having conversation and learning all the new that is you until we are too old to speak, too senile to argue but just young enough to reminisce.

All I need is a word.

From the time I first heard your voice I knew that is was the soundtrack for all things good and right for me.
My bass matched your treble, baritone flowed with your soprano.
I knew that whatever we blurbed about had meaning in the way it was projected.
We're direct, meaningful and full of purpose.
We've never had meaningless chatter because we can't make that so.
Each work that leaves your lips and embraces my ears has a deep rooted definition that only I can understand.

I just want to talk. Briefly.

The days that I go without hearing and speaking with you devalues homonyms.
My narrative descriptive has no shape or form
My words float into space and become as worthless an the distance and time it takes to travel into nothingness.
My syntax is insignificant.
I do prepare chanced to speak to you, pacing my room, mincing over words and figuring out the right combination of breath control and phrase so I can flo it to you freely.
It is only in this moment that I can tell you that I miss not speaking and how I withdraw from the now when we are silent with each other.
I wilt without my words.

Just say something.

Communicate with this brother, let me know what irks you and how.
Let me know if you crave sugar of need spice to make that dish just right.
Indicate to me if that program we watched last night was straight up booty.
Inform me that tracks 3 and 11 are the only cuts hitting on my CD.
Tell me about the time you broke mamma's dishes while dancing in the kitchen to that song you can't remember.
Help me relate to your childhood by telling me kid adventures.
I'm all ears, just blab until I fall asleep, I promise I won't forget and we'll finish that convo another day on another pillowcase.

What did you say?

Make me say it again while allowing to focus on your lips as you enunciate and thrust verbiage in my direction.

Let me rephrase that...

Make me forget my statements while observing your lips as you force them into curvature and illicit shapes while vocalizing satisfaction and satiations of your day. Make your words become incantation and put me in trance.

Simple conversation does this... To me.

I'd like you to do that, so let's talk.






I wrote that back in April for someone. I never knew that I would not be able to recite it to them in September.

Such as life, I guess.

I've been traveling in the past couple of days, getting over to Colorado and Nevada in the past couple of days, just doing shit. I'm bored as hell and I decided that the mountains would probably take the edge off.

I am not looking forward to going to Chicago, I do understand the seriousness of the business at hand. I have an album to finish in mere weeks and I don't want to rush thru it or come up with some wack stuff for the sake of finishing . If Al and I do the right thing and follow the template we constructed then this project (I'm looking at this as our one last chance to contribute our feelings and passion about hip hop to our peers) should not only be a good one, but it should sell as well.

After listening to the stuff we've recorded already and going over a few tracks Al has prepped I called bruh up and told him that we needed balance. That means that we need to find a female voice to compliment both the tracks and my voice. There has always been one voice in our works and that one has been mine. I feel like if we open the tracks up and add vocal ying to my yang that it'll have more appeal and put that missing element in our compositions. Al is with it and has already suggested someone that I have to meet next weekend I hope. If not, we will be auditioning female co-leads for the group. This is big. Our sound has changed so much over the years and I think that the element of estrogen (and a somewhat disinterested third party to add objectivity to my writing and Al's production) is what we probably needed in the first place, so I'm excited about that.

Can you believe that I haven't heard from my family since I told folks that I was coming back to Chicago? Well, I did hear from my mother Friday and the only question she had for me was:

"So did you get a ticket going back? You did get round trip tickets, right?"

I shit you not, this was the only question ma dukes had for me when she called that afternoon. After about 30 seconds of silence and an inbound call that straight saved my ass from snapping the eff off (I totally forgot about respect in that moment, thanks Al for calling me back) I mentioned that I had an important call coming in and I had to go. She was already hanging up in that moment. So I made a few calls this weekend while watching snow fall in the mountains in September and I have to either do the nigga-circuit and crash at various cat's cribs and put up with baby momma drama and such or a possible turn to an ex or two just to lay my head. This'll probably last a few weeks, I do have a few job interviews lined up and I expect to be either temping or doing the cubicle shuffle before the end of the month. I just don't know how I'm going to get out of the airport with my shit. No prob, I got Lortabs and Oxycotton... I'll get a little numb before the plane lands.

I ain't worried about Chicago, shit like fam not returning my calls and moms tripping that I might invade her zip code was the same shit I complained about in blogs past, so at least it feels like home. That'll probably motivate me to compose my opus, choose the right vocalist for the group, vibe like hell with her and write tighter shit and develop a killer stage show that'll get us an optimum deal and possibly get some records sold. Like they say, the best revenge is living well. And plus, I'll break protocol and eat a chicken wing or two in celebration of getting back to the Windy City.

And Bulls training camp opens...
And the Sox might make the playoffs.
If not, there's always that nice drive to the D to see the Tigers make a World Series Run.
And I'll finally complete this damn album.

Finally.

Princess Dominique, Yazmar, Zed, Rell, Nsane in the Membrane, Buck, GP, Namiliar, Chele, Missy, Verse One, Zesty Zest and Aqua (how brave of you - I just can't do it)... I'm reading.

5 comments:

Rose said...

Maybe your mom is so worried about you that she had little words. After all maybe she is not sure what to say since you quit your job and left. You know how parents are...
Anyway it is good to hear from you and to know that you are still on target for your album.

Ms_SoCal said...

Living Well IS The Best Revenge!

NegroPino™ said...

Thanks......i cant send emails....but i hope it makes your day :)

NeenaLove said...

your poetry is... like WOAH! lol... i know several women that wouldn't and couldn't even begin to UNDERSTAND how moving your words are. for them, i feel pity.

as for getting back to the windy city and taking care of business and folks NOT calling back... we grow through adversity. continue on with single purpose and the universe will FALL in line.

hugz,
neena

Gallis said...

Man, that sitch is popped like corn. All you can really do is keep going. Wish I was in the Chi. I'd jam with you!