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.

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.

See You At The Crossroads

Let's talk about my life.

I'm a young black man from the hood that made it out of the belly of the beast, went to college and the military and "made it" out. You know, out of the hood, out of my 20's (cause' we ain't supposed to make it, right?), made it to this point without scattering babies across the planet and got out of my momma's house. Right, I hear ya'... give that nigga a cookie!

Now that I made it past all of these so-called obstacles, I want to spend my time doing things worthwhile and satisfying. Here's where the problem begins... I don't know where to start.

Now if I wasn't a whore to corporate America, I would definitely be in Louisiana doing whatever I could to help them folks get back on their feet. If you haven't noticed from the hurricane news feeds most of the folks displaced by Katrina are brothers and sisters. Jobs lost, homes destroyed, schools gone. I wish I had the loot to set up shop for our people. It's gonna be a wild ass fall/winter season for our cousins down south. We cannot just sit here and watch this shit go gown negatively for cuzzo and em' without doing something...

I am currently writing and composing for future projects. That ish is easy. For the first time in my life I'm working with a part time muse (never had a part time muse). I have strong interest in this sista, but there is a little apprehension and fear to dive in right now so I respect that and continue to try to move forward the best I can. But that's where it starts...

My current wish list has "Wanted: Full-time muse with no hang ups wishing to spend time doing whatever, possibly leading to some long term ish" in its number one spot. It is very hard for a single brother that has never been married and has no kids at my age to land that particular wish. Either a sister thinks that something is broken, I was a part of some religious sect that forbade contact with women or I am some crazy-ass abusive cat that swung myself single in some way shape form or fashion. This is so far from the truth. But when a sister asks and she hears that I have no shorties, no jail record or previous marriages I get this twisted face thingee and a long ass stare...

I am currently planning to leave the corporate world for something more like what I want to do. For a cat my age to want to do that without a ton of cash saved up (and be black) is damn near impossible. And just like Skinny Black said, "everybody has to have a dream". I dream of running my own business in my own quirky ass way of doing shit. Doing this is not as impossible as one thinks, but once again, my skin color, belief system, hairstyle and age comes into question when I lay some (not all) of my plans to some of my people. And once again, some sistas give me the gas face and the blank stare...

I'm bored with my life right now. Work is damn near on automatic; the (vital) bills get paid. I travel sometimes and I do get out and about. My attempts to shake things up have a lot to do with my music and writing ventures, but I feel that I need more. Right now, I am yearning for some kind of adventure to just drop in my lap. But it'll mean nothing if I can't share...

I am at a crossroads right now in life and I'm wondering if I should just start the trip alone or if I should at least screen some companion candidates for the trip. I got a strange feeling once I get things going with my business ventures and art that I won't have time to really put into a relationship. For the past couple of years I've been moving to this point alone and I would really like to share what I already have with someone, but I do have the option to shut that love thing down and put all of my focus into the new definition of me.

I've always moved with someone there. It's felt a little strange moving alone for the time I have been.

I've always been in a corporate setting. Moving away from it in the prime of my performance level is a little scary, but I need the stimuli to want to move ahead.

I need to step out on faith, but I realize that as I change things in my life, the way I experience the same ole same is also changing. I just never thought that I would get a ton of resistance from family, friends and the opposite sex.

Why is it so hard to just do and have what you want?

I don't wanna follow the formula anymore.

Is It Friday Yet?

I guess everything old is new again... For those that remember, the Fresh Fest is back on the road featuring most of the old skool cats that used to rock audiences with multiple talents and some new cats such as Chubb Rock and Guru from Gangstarr. There was even Dana Dane and Joeski Love sightings on stages across the States. Wow. I still mark out to the Pee Wee Dance whenever I hear it, which is not that often. Thank God for peer 2 peer...


I've been working with my original producer and business partner DJ MorningMan on those pieces I mentioned a few days ago right here. It feels good to be sent tracks and to brainstorm over how to freak the funk over dope ass beats again. I forgot what it felt like to be an emcee. The power of the spoken word definitely elevates a brother these days, can't wait to share. Looks like we got an album project on our hands. We were supposed to be just throwing together a lil sumthin' sumthin' for our enjoyment, looks like we'll be shopping some of the stuff, the rest will be put into mixtape rotation...


I've been working on relaunching my personal website. I want to share some of the artwork I've been working on and then I had a conversation with someone I feel is very special. This person is a consummate artist and I have an idea on how to get that work out. For those in the general Chicagoland area, look out, there will be a mixer/auction going on very soon. Location and dates to come soon.


I will be free of my constrictions after Labor Day weekend.


We'll talk about THAT soon...


Other than that, I still got the flu.

Hump Day

So I decided to get back into recording music.

I used to be a studiohead back in the day, and I kind of retired in 99 due to Hip Hop burnout. I just felt like I couldn't contribute to the culture anymore without embarrassing myself. I felt too old. I felt like because of my age I would not be given a shot to be heard.

Time passed.

To hell with all of that noise in 2005, I'm just doing the damn thing and I hope what I got reaches someone. And touches them.

So I wrote some joints that I plan on recording in the very near future.
I'll post them when I'm done.
And I'll bring back my website and post all of the photos and videos that amassed my hard drive after I pulled the site down.
And I actually scheduled time to get my podcast show back on the air.

And I get to hang out with Ali Shaheed Muhammed this evening.

Inspiration comes from wired ass places...

liberation
divorce
sick people
getting old
niggas on the down low

Right now, I'm writing a joint inspired by all of these "down low" cats. Sisters keep asking and so have I. I actually had conversations with a brother I work with that feels that he cannot tell his wife that he's out there bumping uglies with other men. I asked if I can take those conversations and put some lyrics together and the ish snowballed from there. The outcome so far is something I can't wait to unleash on those that want to hear it. I was embarrassed at first to even go there and put my name and voice to something that would link me to the "down low movement", but if brothers in that lifestyle ain't talking, then I will be the catalyst. All this cat asked is that I don't link thangs to him and don't use his words to ridicule his actions or to make a song that can be used as a hate anthem. I agreed, so I'm trying to put together a serious piece, and it's taking shape very nicely. I just hope it's taken for what its worth and not trivialized.

We'll see.

They might honor my request... At least I hope so

I did a horrible thing yesterday...

I haven't heard from my family in quite some time. No one ever calls, writes, etc. My little brother is the only family member that visited me... That was pretty recent, and we were going to a strip club. Other than that, I'm usually ignored, not respected and I have never been taken seriously - this is not unusual, but anyhoo...

I log into MSN at my desk at work and I have a new messaging buddy. I don't know who it is, so I allow them to see me so I can get at least one IM so I can identify...

It's my sister... Wondering where I am and what I'm doing. Now of course this is not unusual, but the way it was posed to me is that I should have "reported in" so my family can continue to criticize my movements, opinions and general life decisions.

Ever since I got back from the military in 92', my family has been trying to push me in whatever direction they want (need) me to go. Of course I got my own rhythm to dance to and every time I do my own thang I am questioned and ridiculed about going against the grain. According to everyone from Moms on down, I do not know how to live my life. So I keep them at a distance.

I changed my name a few years ago. All I got since then is jokes and non compliance. To this day, no one from my family has ever addressed me by my chosen name even though I raised a big shit about it and even gave them lessons and info on its meaning and proper pronunciation. I do not believe in what they believe, I think that is from my living and traveling abroad.

I have never felt like a member of the family so it was time for me to divest... I had to perform a horrible act.

The horrible thing I did was ask my sister to relay a message to the rest of them:

I no longer want to be a part of your family.
I was made to feel like the outcast, so why should I continue to reach out.
Please do not call, email or message me again.
Please erase me from your memory.


I feel I did the right thing...
I hope I did...
I feel better, and to some that's a horrible act.

Boredom

I am currently bored with life...

Sort of.

I have my health, am in the process of redecorating my apartment, have a good paying job. My friends respect me and treat me well. I am kinda-sorta seeing someone special. I wake up, go to work, have lunch when it's time, come home and do it all again if the next day calls for it.

I pick up my clothes from the cleaners Saturday morning. I take out my trash on the regular. My laundry days are Tuesdays and Thursdays. I rotate the sheets and bedspreads every other day. My phone bill gets paid on the 17th, My rent, promptly on the first day of the month. I refuel my ride on Sundays and Wednesdays like clockwork (the cost is killing me, but, whatever).

I wake up at 4am, get to the gym by 5 and I get to work at 7:40 every weekday. Like clockwork. I listen to a De La cut every morning before I leave the house. I have 2 prefabbed hash browns for breakfast, a bowl of oatmeal and 2 bananas for a morning snack, 2 veggie burritos and a protein shake for lunch and another protein shake with either tuna or chicken for dinner. I make sure I see "Girlfriends" every night at 10:30, and then to bed.

I am starting to hate my life.

It is boring.

I am grateful because I am all put together (2 hernia surgeries - nerve damage in the left ankle, arch pain in the right - never repaired a broken left thumb and it lets me know sometimes - reconstructive knee surgery on the right knee - lymph node removal from a cancer scare back in the day - diabetic - food aversions to dairy - a minor back procedure) and I have not had a problem that required a hospital stay or medication in quite some time. That scares me. I'm afraid that it will all hit me at the same time, leaving me in a vegetative state... OK, it doesn't really scare me. What does is the fact that my life is so predictable and boring and I feel that I will never get to do all of the "fun things" I set out to accomplish when I was younger.

I never married, have no kids and just reacquired an old pet, and now that we have gotten used to each other (again), that process is also routine. I tried quitting my job some time ago, and I ended up working for a new firm doing the same thing I did for the old one, but with better money... And an office. And more responsibility. Wow.

I used to skydive, so the adrenaline rush thingee has been done before.
I thought about going peace corps, but I'll miss the internet.
I'm almost too old to rejoin the Army (been there, done that anyway).
I can't become a spy (CIA and FBI says the body is too broken down).
Already did a quarter and a half-marathon.
Sold real estate.
Sold Amway.
Sold Education (was an University Admissions Advisor AND an Executive Search recruiter).
I tried my hand as a recording artist.
And did the music production thing too (when the rap thing failed and I was one of the few that knew how to twist knobs in that environment).
I write, but I hate everything I put to paper.
My photos suck.
I can only sketch and paint myself.
Lived overseas and traveled abroad... Didn't go everywhere, but now I fear US backlash.

I feel like I'm running outta things to do.
It depresses me.
And spell check doesn't want to work... So fuck it, there will be typos

Hep... Hep mee peeze!!!

I'm tired.

I need suggestions to rejuvinate.

Got any?

Wow, a new post!!!

Peace and Blessings in the name of the Most High,

It's been 2 weeks or so since my last post, I am glad to be here, right now laying down new verbage.

During my lil' absence, I decided to cut my locks and take up employment someplace other than Chicago, ran into an old girlfriend and argued about completely nothing and finally got a chance to hang out with a new "friend"... sort of.

Well, I decided not to take the new job, I did trim about 6 inches off of my locks (I gots to maintiain, it was long past due, and plus I got 3 inches of new growth already...) and put to bed any ideas of rekindling flames from the past. I also took on a new job (back in corporate Amerikkka, I guess I need them right now), and took on roomates (yes, that's plural) for the temporary until they close the deal on a very sweet new home. And as far as my new friend, I plan to hang. More. Soon.

Right now I am tired, driving waaaaay to many miles back and forth to Chicago from the nether regions and need to go shopping to replace most of my business casual collection. From the stresses and situations brought on from me attempting to unjack from cubicleland, I lost a significant amount of hair and weight. And to top things off, one of my closest dawgs is getting divorced. But other than that, I seem to be happy right now in this place.

We'll see how long this will last.

I'm alive... Damn, I been waiting to holla at Tupac

I'm still here y'all...

Thanks for email and voicemail... and stop using all those damn cusswords!

You should be hollering at Tamenika and Nate for procrastinating on doing the podcast show...



They should have never gave you niggas' money!!!



Until next time,

it's pronounced Hassan, bitches.

The Love I Lost...

I love Hip Hop.
We shared a lot.
We grew together.

I knew when I was a kid that I'd never outgrow Hip Hop. There were so many subcultures that either I could not or wasn't ready to get at, so I was patient. I hung with my older brother when Hip Hop made it's impact and we were determined (along with some other kids from my block) that we would be a part of that impact. We were so raw and unrefined, the same way Hip Hop was in the early eighties. As my childhood best friend Elton would say, it was love.

I joined the Army under the delayed entry program in 1988. I was still a kid and Hip Hop had grown into this awkward kid that was fresh to def. Everybody loved the vibe given off, there were vulgarities, but at that time there was balance. Everything in Hip Hop had its place. We were happy to see the sub cultures that made up Hip Hop all get their due. Then something happened.

Nah, not the raping of our culture by corporate America. Not that. It was the way we just gave up on taking something we created to the next level. We let Hip Hop leave and we never really got it back, but we waited. While we waited, all of that hope created by Ministers Malcolm and Martin got lost. Marcus' idea to go back to Africa with the Black Star Line faded in history. When I graduated high school and entered the Army, Nelson Mandela was not yet free. A lot of energy was put into getting him released and eliminating Aparthied from control of South Africa. Boy, that Black Star Line would have done wonders if it would have gotten revamped and used for purposes of helping our distant cousins. But our focus was not there. Hip Hop had us, and over the years we became desensitized by the bullshit that was funded by big music. We lost ourselves trying to keep up when we should have taken Hip Hop back and kept it real. The day Hip Hop and its byproducts started making billions for those that had no clue what is was before their investment was the day it lost most of its realness. Now of course there is an underground...

Which leads me to today. Fake ass rappers. Fake ass role models (not for the kids either). Impossible situations placed in the laps of the impressionable. Now control has been conveyed to those that do not have our best interests in mind. I can no longer listen to the music. I do not see the graffiti. The DJs are wack. Breaking is an exhibition that travels with the UniverSoul Circus. Nothing about Hip Hop is real anymore, and I have been made sick of it. Just as refine sugars, high fructose corn syrup and dairy have destroyed the African man and woman's internal systems making obesity, diabetes, heart disease and cancers commonplace in our community due to overconsumption of it, Hip Hop in its mainstream state has caused a mutation of sorts, turning out an evil hybrid of B-Boy, unaware of his history and unashamed of his actions against those that embrace him. He is vulgar and disrespectful, greedy and hoarding all that he should share. He has not given back. Has not shared and will not anytime soon. He has no good news, always depressed and spreading death and disease to those that consume him, and he must be destroyed. Even the machines that created the Matrix destroyed it 6 times before getting it right.


I need Hip Hop back. In its original glory. The current incarnation is killing us.
I cannot support mainstream Hip Hop anymore.
I need to grow with the real again.

Get Free

Everything inside of you should want to get free.
Even the oxygen you inhale has the inclination to get out.
You release it. It regenerates and provides for someone else.
That person is also free. And everything inside of them wants to get free as well.

This is how God works.

You are given the ability to be free.
It is your choice to either take it or be confined to whatever vices hold you.

What holds you?
Have you tried to let it go?

I had a long look at the things that held me. They were simple things, man-made things, addictive things. People, places and things that have no rhyme or reason to hold onto you... Wait, that's it!!!
I let these things, objects and people that do not matter to me hold onto me.

But everything inside of me wants to be free.
All I have to do is let go. Okay, no more high carb, time wasting, damn near heart stopping, money guzzling, can't wait til I can get outta' thier presence, boring ass, mentally draining, non fuel efficient, why did I come here, writer's block giving, no spirit having ass people, places and things.

Damn, no more cigar collecting.
Or soul food restaurant binges.
Or wishy washy ass family members.
Boring ass TV too.
Or carbonated beverages.
Furl injected cars from the 80's.
Or folks who haven't mentioned "Jesus, Mohammed or even L. Ron Hubbard" for that matter.
The bank (sorry, the credit union actually helped me).
Corporate America (you know why).
Radio (fuck you and your wack ass playlist... and your commercials).
Both the Democrat and Republican Party (Barak and Jesse Jr are cool, but c'mon...).
Chemically manufactured haircare products.
High Fructose Corn Syrup
And the rest of y'all...

You are free to overwhelm someone else.


That means that God is working.

Freedom Is A Road Seldom Travelled By The Multitude

Y'all knew by hook or crook I was going to, right?

Wow, That Was Fast...

Dammit, I gotta' find a 2X...
I don't think I can fit this one anymore.

Whatever...

blah, blah, blah...

Whatever...

In the past couple of weeks, I've attempted to deprive myself from all of the things that are "regular" to me to see if I really need them. I've done a good job. What I found out about myself is pretty startling to me, seeing as I didn't know certain things about myself because I wasn't on the outside looking in.

I don't need:

TV - Television for the kid is a waste of time. Sure, I am a sports nut, but I found that if I get to the gym to get an elliptical machine in front of the TV's blasting Sportscenter, I can get up to the minute scores and goings on in Testosterone Nation... All the TV I need.

Alcohol - I used to put the shit on like cologne backnthaday. I was stationed in various military spots in Asia from 1991 to 1993. I took that time to drink my ass off. I found that as I get older, my tolerance has weakened tremendously. I can't hang, and plus I get asshole-itis messing with that ish. You don't want to know me when I drink, so I don't. Anymore.

Haters - Especially folk you done grown close to that always hate on the shit you do because they can't or don't wanna try. I HAD a lot of those around me, most of them blood related. Leads to writer's block.

My Job - I quit (okay, I called in sick for a week and am thinking about quitting). I need to immerse myself in what feeds me spiritually and creatively.

The suburbs - I moved to the burbs to get away from the city. And to get amnesty for all of my parking violations, but fuggit... I miss the hustle and bustle. And there are certain folks that I cannot get to because there is a highway full of young gunners with badges that stop a certain dread ON THE REGULAR to meet citation quotas. Okay, there's a whole band of em'. Know me on a first name basis. So far I've spit up over $1000 in bullshit fines by the suburban courts with $556.60 to go on July 11th. I got current tags, a license and 2 insurance policies... Whatever.

A PC - I'm going Mac Mini. Soon. And I 'm an MCSE.

Radio - I know, I'll just make my own show and put that shit on my website. Playlist my ass. I hate commercial radio!!! And those punk ass "personalities".

A Personal Trainer - Fuggit... I'm getting a Yogi.

Fight. Keep fighting. Keep fighting back.















Don't let them punk you.

You know who you are.

So I go to this festival and guess who I run into

So I go to this festival and guess who I run into, originally uploaded by MrBlackfist.

My family! I didn't expect to run into the fam at Chicago's International Festival of Life, but it was good knowing that they have the same vibe as I.

Have a safe and happy hell-a-day weekend.

With your family.

you can see the stress

blah blah blah blah

Forgive me father, for I have not blogged... It has been 5 days since my last post.

I am tired. Seriously. I am fatigued to the point of not making it to my bed everyday, I have writer's block like a muh-fuh and I see a lot of things I've built recently starting to crumble.

I realize that although I have enough loot to live off of, if you attempt to put financial shit on the backburner, some of that shit will come back and bite you in your ass. Like last week... I borrowed from Peter to pay Paul (semi-regular thing) to get one bill collector off my back. That shit backfired. I made a deal to pay down some debt and resume paying on a timely basis (yeah, right) and when I got there to pay the arrears, I was asked for the whole amount! That puts me in a situation because a moving violation I never paid on but went to court for (3 times) puts me in the hole for the moment. I have a choice: pay my rent and bills and the debt in arrears and not pay the fine and court costs (I have until July 11th to this or I go to jail to "serve it off" - well, that's what the judge said) OR I can pay the fine and court costs, take care of my basic needs and pretty much ignore my bill collectors. Of course I have a house full of furniture and electronic goodies, so if I don't pay some of these bills they're coming for their shit. So the debate lingers. Which bank do I rob and how will I get away?

Another thing... I have severe writer's block. I have a ton of beautiful tracks to write songs to. Some I bought, others I created. I began my process like I usually do by preparing a lyrical skeleton and adding music as I go along. I got melodies, hooks, choruses - all that shit, but for some strange reason I cannot pull the lyrics and music together to create a single entity. Shame. This is some of my best work, and I cannot finalize it so I'm stressing over that.

I think what I might do is just quit everything right now, take the little money I have and just go. Somewhere quiet. And drink. A lot. For like 2 or 3 weeks. Okay, maybe not. I need to go somewhere and fast, take herbs and detoxify, but that'll cost too much. And that's stressful as hell in itself anyway. I'm thinking if I just pull out for a while I can get my bearings or at least I hope. I hate my job, I don't have time to relax, working out isn't helping (I accidentally stayed too long on the elliptical the other day and ended up hypoglycemic - I was thinking. About what I do not know) and I can't seem to keep myself together the 12 hours out of the day I am away from home dealing with everybody else. I haven't slept in weeks, but I'm tired. I wanna focus, but my attention span is defective right now. The phone is ringing off the hook and it ain't my friends and family. I'm losing it right now.

And that's who I introduced to a new friend recently: Stressed out Hassan... I hope that shit isn't contagious.

Damn, damn, damn...

Wow. Game brought just a little heat with this one.

No comment.

The Last Shall Be The First

I promise to be more attentive... I swear that I will pay you more attention.

So my brother graduated from college yesterday. He is the youngest of the flock, so he is the last... If the Creator can make happier days, they would be based off of this one. The family had absolutely no restraint at the ceremony when my brother's name was called and he recieved his degree, and why should we? I tried to chill and play the background because I haven't been hanging out in the city as much as I used to, and it wasn't my day, but to no avail. My dad, Grandma and my aunts came at me like I did something wrong. As I grow older, the loud jokester I used to be has manifested himself into a very reserved and laid back cat. I only speak if there is something to say because words are so powerful. I hope my family understands this, but alas, I am still seen as a child to those that had thier hand in raising me.

I took a pic with my brother, I was the first one to do such, but didn't want to get in the family pix, so I just hung back and enjoyed my brother's moment. This dude went to three universities over a 6 year period, got married, relocated and now has three (3 dammit!!! 5 month old twins and a 2 year old in June) kids. Him and his wife have found a way to make it work, and I am proud. Now my job goes from explaining the subtle nuances of college politics to explaining why things are the way they are in corporate America. I was an executive search recriuter for a few years and I remember cats like lil bruh. His wife teaches high school hisotry and now it's his time to find a place in jobdom that will help the family stay afloat. I'll do what I can to make the transition from student-dad to working-dad a smooth one for my brother.

Whenever all of us are in the same place at the same time, my mother boo-hoos. Man, my brothers and lil sis and I are like the Jacksons, you will never see us in the same place, ever! You just have to flash back to the days of yesteryear when we were kids to remember when all my momma's kids were in the same room together. I was shocked and surprised to see my older brother at the comencement. Good looking out on my sister's behalf to get a ticket to my brother.

I felt outdone by a family that brought an airhorn to the ceremony... Damn, why didn't I stop by the swap meet beforehand?

There was an amazing family that graduated together. A dad and his two adult daughters walked across the stage together. Cool ish... Mom and her sister (aunt) are also alums...

Did I mention that I am an alum, and my brother graduated from the same program as I? Thing is, I completed mine online after dropping out (for the second time), and got transcripts, etc. in the mail. That was the first time I attended a comencement ceremony at my alma matter.

Unless one of us decides that either an MBA or doctorate program is in the pipeline, this is it as far as school is concerened. My sister did mention that she was considering jumping into an MBA healthcare management program while I have my sites (tentatively) set on a pharmD program, maybe. I got a little time. I wanna chase my dreams first.

It's been damn near a decade since the last of my Mom's kids left the house. To see all of us now is a testament to her and my dads (2) hard work and ass kicking perserverance. She is now oficially "old". In a good way.

I Need My Sister

My mother's first born was my sister Robbie, who died of crib death in 1968. A couple of yeas later, after my brother I made it. Been here since. Wow, really has been a ride, but I'm tired... Just a little.
I wish my sister was here. I have so many questions to ask that an older sibling can only answer. I wish that in my mid thirties I had all of the answers to the "secrets and cheats" that get folks my age through. Okay, maybe not secrets or cheats, but there has to be a for dummies handbook to help folks get through pre middle age to middle age. I now question every move I make because at this point, failure is not an option.

One day, I started calculating how much debt I really was in, and I came up with a formula that I now use to calculate how far from homelessness and despair I am. I'm not far. I eat well, drink the finest alcoholic and carbonated beverages. I purchase only the finest growth hormone produced meats and cheeses. I dine out entirely too much. I see every major corporate sponsored big budget motion picture, I buy very expensive Afrikan woodcarvings and brick a brack in order to keep "in touch" with my roots. I fly to Vegas too much for no apparent reason (OK, I gamble and drink like a heathen when I'm there, but I bring friends too!) I never watch the 200 plus cable channels I have and I've seen a little porn on my overpriced high speed internet service. I iPod and wi-fi when I can, and I shop for... I need the new shit weekly.

None of this makes me happy.

I'd rather live without it...
Correction - I'd rather not pay for it, I feel like I can't live without it.
But I need to get rid of it.
I need to channel my energies into a meaningful relationship, and that means getting right with the creator.

Fast.

I know my sister would have been there to kick me square in the ass and set me straight. She would have told me about the subtle nuances on dealing with a black woman. I watch my mom and dad from afar. Big sis would have answered my calls at 2am and cussed me out for calling and hang up on my ass. Then she would have called back to see what was so urgent. My sister would have been there with me last month and the month before when all of my uncles and aunts started dying, leaving me to handle family business with a partner instead of handling it alone.

Then I realized that God doesn't make mistakes.
My sister was supposed to die.
I had to handle these things on my own.

I am overwhelmed right now with work and art. I can't seem to achieve balance of the two. I can pay my bills, but... Why do I consume so much unnecessary bullshit? If I were to die today, who would gather all of these things and where would they go?

Sometimes I feel that my big sister tells me to do the right thing.

Sometimes.

I know that is God.

I just wish she was here in person to give me a swift kick.

Sometimes.

threesomes at 3pm

threesomes at 3pm (stolen from Alfie, but changed to my answers)

because I needed a break from writing...


Name 3 Bad Habits You Have:
1. procrastinating
2. Taking a vow of silence at the most inappropriate times
3. shutting out (certain) friends and family when I am going thru something

Name 3 Things That You Wish You Had:
1. a big ass bank account instead of a paycheck
2. more time
3. a loft condo

Name 3 Scents You Love:
1. Kush
2. Egyptian Musk
3. Outdoors (in the bush, not the concrete or steelof the city)

Name 3 Things You'd Never Wear:
1. men’s clogs
2. white shoes that are not sneakers
3. store bought cologne

Name 3 Things You Are Thinking About Now:
1. If I die, how many will show up?
2. finishing the album is stressing me
3. where should I go for vacation?

Name 3 Songs You've Listened To In The Past 24 Hours:
1. Faithful - Common
2. One Good Reason - Bajawalla
3. Ain’t Buying It - Fly

Name 3 Of Your Favorite Singers/Bands:
(right now at this very moment)
1. Rahssan Patterson
2. Common
3. Jilly

Name 3 Things That You Have Done Today:
1. had chicken for breakfast (no waffles, though)
2. went over my traffic court case strategies for Monday
3. worked on a website

Name the Last 3 Things You Have Bought:
1. my phone bill (I bought that… Okay, I was paying bills man)
2. Chicago White Sox tickets
3. chocolate (don’t ask – I needed it for baking)

Name 3 Drinks You Regularly Drink:
1. water
2. Vitamin Water
3. coffee

Last Person You Hugged?
Deah, best friend

Last Thing You Laughed At?
Mike’s assessment of my romantic situation

Last Time You Cried?
April 25, 2005, around 11:35pm

What's In Your CD Player?
Common “Be”

What three things are Under Your Bed?
1. Army discharge papers locked my “Tupperware safe”
2. lyric sheets
3. dead poems


What Time Did You Wake Up Today?
I don't remember

Current Hair?
pulled back, pony tailed

Current Clothes?
black Nike basketball shorts, black t-shirt, Timberland flip flops

3 pieces of favorite jewelry?
1. my black Ankh (around the neck)
2. my very expensive, but scratched up titanium watch
3. hats, headwraps and dreadcatchers (same category, right?)

3 Current Annoyances?
1. badly constructed computers that I have to work on
2. Bills
3. pressed for time

Current Desktop Picture?
none, it’s blank

Current Worry?
I was supposed to get paid today, right?

Current Hate?
I don’t think I hate anything… Yet.

Last 3 CDs You Bought?
Common “Be” Raphael Saddiq’s Pookie thingee Kem’s “Part 2” album

3 Favorite Places To Be?
1. home
2. hanging out, laughing with my friends
3. somewhere by the water

3 Least Favorite Places be?
1. home
2. traffic
3. my old job

If You Could Play An Instrument?
bad question, that’s my problem… I play a couple and think I’m an artist now.

Favorite Color?
white

Do You Believe In An Afterlife?
yes

How Tall Are You?
5’-10”, 5’-11” - it varies in different places it seems

Favorite Season?
all of em’

Favorite Day.
everydamnday

Where Would You Like To Go?
away...

Freedom Does Come With A Price

How far would you go to get free? I've been asking my kinfolk that for a while now. What I learned is that a lot of folks talk freedom, but are afraid to come out of their shackles. Easier said than done pretty much sums it up when speaking with friends and family. The fact of the matter is that a lot of us really don't want to put much effort up when it comes to change. The comfort of knowing that even though one is a slave to whatever it may be, there is a guarantee that the same whatever holding us back will be there tomorrow.

Or will it?

I guess what I'm talking about is one who has an opportunity, you know the ability to make change either in their lives or others and just doesn't. It amazes me that I know (or know of) so many people that are capable of doing some remarkable things either for themselves or others, but because fear of the unknown and the possibility of going outside one's comfort zone they just won't do it.

Make change.

How hard can it be?

I just found a "loophole" if you will to free myself from corporate America for good and provide financial stability for years to come. We all want that kind of freedom, right? Here's the catch:

Even though I make my own hours (I'll be done by 4pm) and manage myself, I'll have to cater to folks I don't even know. I'll have to take a loss and live like a vagabond for at least 2 months (operating expenses and start up costs suck!). I'll have to do a lot of driving (I hate unnecessary driving, especially in Chicago). I have to provide my own insurance. I'll miss out on various events (4th of July, sporting events I planned to attend, concerts and shows) which means sacrificing my summer. I'll get no vacation.

Or I could take this job being offered in Vegas that comes with a housing allowance...

The struggle will always be there. If I take (a sales position) the job in Las Vegas, I'll have to get to know new places and people, but there's a couple of folks here that I still didn't get to know the way I wanted. The stress of relocating and work performance is almost the same as seeing all of my money go towards home expenses and business costs while starting up my new thang, right?

In the past two weeks, I had more people tell me to go for another job in cubicle city rather than start up my own business because it is what they would do. Some of these folks complain about what they have in a job and what they don't have due to that same job.

I already know what I'm going to do...

Which struggle would you pick?

Peace and Blessings in the name of the most high... I just had a load of time fall into my lap lately, and I have been feverishly working on the album and the poetry joint. I planned on vacationing in the next couple of weeks but I just had ton on inspiration hit me and I couldn't leave with new ideas and concepts on my mind. I was working on some joints for my "The Power of the Hand" project which is a culmination new ideas I had bridging the spoken word onto a harder track base ala Saul Williams, Zack De La Rocha, you know - them cats. I love the spoken word. I feel with all of the saturation of pop-ish, radio friendly tracks, and over crunked out songs (don't get it twisted, I luvs the crunk) that the lyrics themselves can get lost in translation. I'm a kid of the 70's and 80's. At that time the tracks that emcees dropped were fresh to def, but attention was especially paid to the lyrical content. Hip Hop was fresh and new, and we had to know what was being said, that era was so influential to future Mic controllers. During my time as an emcee trying to rock a record deal from 88 to 2000, I always made sure that clarity was a trait that I displayed, and even after my so called retirement from Mic rocking in 2000, I fell in love with performing using the power of the spoken word. Hip Hop never got away from me. The reaction and love given back when I was dropping phrases rather than rapping by some of my peers and extended family gave me more than the crowds that I got a chance to rock and the heads that nodded to The Underground Movement's joints MorninMan and me created back in the day. So now after me bowing to corporate America and MorninMan perfecting his craft starting a family and earning his stripes as a dope ass producer/DJ/studio conveyor, the Movement is being resurrected... I just can't drop just plain ol' beats and rhymes, we've grown. In our growth as men, in fatherhood, being family men, businessmen, beatmakers , rhymesayers & writers and our growth in the love of Hip Hop we just can't sit on the sidelines and let Hip Hop move without our contribution of some soulful shit.

Wouldya?

If you had a chance to escape corporate America, well... Would you?

Why would you go back, other than the obvious (money)?

Just wonderin'...

Forsaken...

The ones that are the closest to you are the ones that forsake
you. The saddest part is, they evict you when they are down, pick
you apart when you at your lowest and after all of that kick you
when you are down. I've come to expect that from my loved ones
now and it's a crying shame.

I won't call their names because they know who they are.

Mostly it's family members and people you share your soul with.

I thank you for kicking me and accusing me of falsehoods, it only
makes me stronger, but at the same time it also makes me trust
those I have not even met or have gotten to know even less.

God puts people in your life for a reason.

He also gives you obstacles there too. Your job and mine is to
overcome them. When you cannot, that's when it is time to reach
out to those that can understand and just let things take flight.
That is hard. No one will ever really get what they want until they
submit to the fact that they are not in control. God is. The day we
all realize that is the day we will all be free.

But for now in the same breath I wish I never either met, interacted
or was born into such toxic situations and am glad I got a chance
to experience the hardships of your lives and at least attempted to
be a part and share whatever was with mine. I've learned from
that. The sad part is that we never got a chance to share in the
triumph of overcoming. I looked forward to that. The good thing is
that the hatred and contempt had for me is not reflected in my
thoughts and feelings for any of you. Not that I'm better or have
overcome my problems, faults and flaws but I try to not pass
judgement because I am just as fucked up as the next person.

But you never saw that over your own flaws. And for that I thank
you.

Thanks for reminding me how much of an ass I am. Thanks for
letting me know every little thing I have ever done that made you
feel contempt in your heart. Thank you for pointing out my
shortcomings. Thanks for bringing up every dollar amount that I
either owe or have blown in an attempt to get my thang in order.
Thanks for telling me how much of a monster I am when it comes
to dealing with what did not belong to me: your feelings. Thanks
for letting me know that I did not qualify to even stand ground in
your square and that you had to stoop lower than you've done
before just to deal with me. I never knew I was gutter trash.
Thanks for not even giving thought to all of the deeds I have done
in an attempt to make life better for whomever. Thanks for letting
me know that I was never appreciated. Thanks for indicating to me
that I never had a shot to hold love in your heart. Now that I know
these things I will move forward in making my life better so the next
so called friend, girlfriend, brother and sister or parent won't
experience this.

Thanks for never calling me by my chosen name.

But in the same vain, thanks for being there. Thanks for giving.
Thank you for sharing and breaking bread with me. Thanks for the
shoulder. Thanks for the advice, loans and words of
encouragement when I needed them. Thanks for the prayers. I am
forever grateful.

Now that I have been forsaken, I hope I'm forgotten.

And I Thought I Was A Mess

Have you seen this piece of work?

Most of the time, I keep my place in "about to mode". You know what I mean, I was about to clean my house, but I didn't get time because (fill in the blanks here). Well, add R Kelly's place to the house cleaning list now, because he got some folks straight livid after the premier of the second installment of his "In The Closet" series.

So it seems in chapter two, Kels finds himself facing his mistress' man gun in hand. It seems that the woman's husband has a little secret to get out now that all of the cards are on the table. He asks Kelly if he knew he was a pastor, and R feels that since this guy is a reverend, they can talk this thing thru, but the rev has other things in mind. He picks up his cell and calls his booty call and asks them to turn around and come to the flat, he wants everybody to meet. Kels finds this pretty peculiar and threatens to shoot this guy if he doesn't tell him what his next move is, and the rev pleads that he should wait for his little surprise.

Kels isn't going for this, he feels threatened and begins a countdown before he snaps off and shoots his way out of the 5th floor apartment. As the woman pleads for her and her husband's life, the right reverend'd phone rings. It's his cheating partner in the lobby, he instructs them to take the stairs and get there quickly. As Kelly is counting down to one and the woman he just had sex with is pleading and screaming for her life the door opens... It's a man.

Damn.

Keep it on the down low indeed.

It looks like brother Robert needs a little housecleaning of his own.All of his trash continues to pile up and I think its making him a little sick. This ain't "Honey Love" or "Down Low" for that matter. This is some new and improved, sick shit (excuse my French). It seems after the debut of the first installment of this five parter radio stations across the country clammored to be the first to premier the second. It just so happened that the hometown radio outlet was the first to let the cat out of the bag, and the response was overwhelming. Overwhelmingly bad.

But I'll let you be the judge...

Who Informs Us of Us?

I was rumbling about, just wandering onto the black blogsphere when I was hit with the stark realization that we are ignored.

Most of the time, unless it matters.

To them.

Usually, unless we really want to trick off a little paper (or have the paper to trick off like that), inviting 600 guests to a srping wedding is not a common occurrence in these here parts. I definitely understand the concern that anyone would have if the wedding is either postponed or called off (back to the whole tricking off thing) because if it's that big, I would have certainly RSVP'd early and would be bringing the camcorders because there will be a sintilating story to tell..

I'm sure we all know about the young, pretty white girl that punked out (thanks Rashunda) and fled her own marriage shindig by now, but what about pretty black girls? I guess it takes a little tricking off for us to be relevant, or does Diddy have to throw another party? No offense to Fiddy, Flav or anyone else that the press runs to to get a story, but...

It burns my ass to know that the only time our sisters get that same press is when it feeds into the negative aspect that has been associated with our people for the span of our stay here in America. We know all about Kim, Foxy and their problems. We also know that the guv'ment raised the bar in getting help to extradite a "known notorious killer" (we got love for you, but we know you know that). But when a sister comes up missing, if it wasn't for the grass roots, we'd never know.

Why is it the ones that matter the most, the ones we should die to protect are the ones seen as expendable?

If it wasn't for MotherSister, we would have nothing.

Rashunda has a brilliant idea that I think the black blogsphere should take into consideration. I think we should be on the lookout for our own. It doesn't hurt me to say this, we need to rep for ourselves more than we do now. It's not a good feeling to know that some of our sister's stories fall to the background while the media pushes stories like ol' girl's little expedition to nowhere.
Damn, it's sad... That's why we gotta be the media for ourselves.

Any other way and it won't be covered.

I am amazed how much black death takes up our time. It seems to be the only
commodity that the 2-3 generations below me seem interested in. I also have
to mention my generation and the 2-3 generations in front of me because we
not only let this happen, we exploit it.

People step to me at the poetry spots and coffee houses and be like "Black,
why you still think that we not gon' get free man?" It's simple. Black death
sells. A lot. All the time. We buy into it, but we don't buy it but what's worse?

I think because we buy into the stereotype and hype, we perpetuate the
images of death and destruction that much further. Song lyrics are
incantation, repeat them enough and you'll believe you're gangsta' too. I
wonder about cats like Pos, Dave and Mase who make up De La Soul. I
wonder how they sleep at night knowing that the music they create is damn
near rejected by the music buying public, and it's probably the best form of
creative and original Hip Hop on the streets. It must be a hard grind. I don't
feel bad for them, De La has a core audience and those cats tour more than
regularly, and being 15 years deep in the game I'm sure they know how to
handle. If I wonder about the Soul, then I worry about Brand Nubian.

I have always been a fan, and I was buzzed when Clive Davis picked them up
on Arista 5 years ago. Since then, a badly promoted album (which was mad
nice) was the only Arista release. Along with Naughty By Nature and others,
Brand Nu got lost in the shuffle when Clive was forced out of the label he
founded. Lord Jamar, Sadat X and Grand Puba have done the indy thing and
has a current release out. I wish the world can hear it. Only a chosen few, the
ones the big marketing machines didn't get to will hear it. The ones that make
a free choice to hear real hip hop that doesn't capitalize on black death, we'll
hear it, might like or love it and carry on, but it won't sustain any positive
movement that Hip Hop desperately needs.

Don't think I forgot about images. I can talk about movies, but the selection of
good, wholesome "black" movies are either scarce or so convoluted or
mixed up that we get 3 movies in one sometimes (see "Diary of a Mad Black
Woman"). The straight to video selections are third rate at best and just linger
on the shelves at the neighborhood Blockbuster. Black folk still have to damn
near give a kidney to cop a good role in a good film that will make money
(except Will Smith). I watched Regina King celebrate the fact that she has a
co starring role in a move and she doesn't die and makes it to the end. Wow.

Now don't get it twisted, there is good black film and music out there. There is
also some damn good reading by authors other than myself. I wish it got the
same budget the 50 got, then we'd be even keel. I also try to swallow the fact
that our Christian, Muslim and Hebrew cousins keep distance from the Hip
Hop and Neo Soul crowds a lil' bit. I do not believe the there is a holier than
thou thing going on, I just believe that those in the church, synagogue and
temple feel that the violence, misogyny and angst found in mainstream media
these days know that these are just cries for help and those who seek him will
be with them shortly. No need to be in it if it causes you pain and distress.

Where are the "black" distributors? I see the Cash Money Millionaires with
some nice homes and rides, but doesn't duplication equipment with the
power to press millions of records cost the same or even less as a
Maybach? Is Dat Nigga Daz the only one? What about Shawn Ray
(outspoken black bodybuilder), Sean Combs (outspoken rap mogul), Wendy
Day (Rap Coalition) and others that are mouthpieces for us make the deals
we need to put the product on the shelves? What about the Internet and the
power of peer to peer? What about guys like Magic Johnson or Earl Graves
(who co ventured with Dave Mays and Benzino to keep "The Source"
magazine alive) and other big power brokers? Can we sit down and create
our own distributor network so that quality artists like K-Os can put out the
good ish? Still waiting for my Nicole Wray album to drop...

I refuse to believe that our ancestors built pyramids and pioneered biology
and medicine within a great and advanced civilization and we are no way
near where we were as far as being self sufficient. We are more powerful
than this.

As I approach another anniversary of birth, I really try to avoid those who
know about it. I hate birthdays and I do not wish that omen on others, say
that damned phrase or celebrate it myself. If you celebrate yours, then by all
means, enjoy yourself. Just keep that shit away from me. If I'm close to you,
I will respect your wishes, you can do your thing around me, just don't
expect me to wear a hat and help you blow out the candles...

For that reason (and others) I really keep to myself and don't hang out. I
figure that I can do bad all by myself, and I kind of like hanging out with just
me. I can betcha' I know more about me that you do. I seriously
disconnected a few years ago because I wanted to have all the
relationships I had to be just where I left them. Good. I watched people
feed into bullshit and garbage, I watched myself pull back further and
further because lack of communication was causing mistrust. I watched
and listened to my kinfolk complain about their lovers, partners and siblings,
who I was friend of too. And I heard it from the other side. I felt like
everything that was good was starting to crumble. Safe to say because of
my actions I watch my long term relationship crumble as well so all of my
interaction with friends, lovers and family began to become scarce.

I disconnected.


I I've been disconnected for quite some time now. I should say from the
physical, these days I just observe from afar. I do stay connected with
friends and relatives somewhat, it's just I'd rather stay home and chill than
be in the middle of something.I am not afraid of anything. Between life
threatening occurrences and disease, I surprise myself. I would have never
thought that I would have to experience a doctor telling me that I need
surgery to possible stay alive, so it ain't that. I think I know what is now. I
don't want to get hurt. Again. The reason I don't hang out or visit folks is
because I do not want to create or establish something with someone and
then have it either taken away or just eliminated due to lack of
communication, he say/she say, or the fact that I am just not liked for some
reason or another and I'm being patronized.

Something tells me to get back out there. Morning Man inspires me to write
and record, even though I haven't in about 5 years... We'll see if I'm ready
for that.

Who do you love?

Are you for sure?

How do you reverberate when it's given?

I have a small circle of friends. Some of the ones I'm closest with, we don't
hang out. But when my homies call...

I am amazed with how love is given. I found ways to really F up and
miscommunicate in the past. At one point, I thought that the giving of the
physical was the ultimate way to show love, but now that I approach mid life,
I know now that control of the physical, communication of the spiritual and
commitment of time are combinations of method that build and bind. I'm
glad I have people with clay and brick next to me that help me erect
massive towers of love.

I thank y'all... You know who you are.

Long ago in a galaxy far, far away I knew a schoolteacher. I was introduced
by her beau at the time and she was the spirit. As I was looking for a place
to park in the crowded neighborhood I felt God summoning me. I was
instructed to make a friend and keep ties. This person would be special. As
time grew, I watched her grow... So did her following, and we lost touch.
And then I lost touch with her now ex.

And when the year started I heard, I saw but I did not believe. And then I
got an email. It IS her! I did not want to believe but it was true. The platform
has already been set. The spirit and the truth is available in CD format. Find
it, cop that and feel what I felt years ago.

Lets talk about impure thoughts. Everyone has them, everybody struggles to not act
on them. Some of my 'best' impure thoughts drive me to write about them. Not all the
time, but for me, good ideas come from the lowest of the low. I'll try to make them
useful.

As I grow older, sex isn't as much of a thought driver as it used to be. For
some strange reason (not really strange, blame it on TV or something)
violence seems to plague my mind. I am not a violent person but I do have a
violent temper. I have placed that part of me in it's own special place... Any
angry tirade or temper tantrum is reserved for the person or persons that lay harm on
my loved ones. I have never had to snap off, I did in the past
because I didn't have control of my emotions - hell, I didn't understand them, so I just
reacted to whatever situation with all of the confusion and
misunderstanding that I harbored inside. I hurt people. I cannot do that
again. I will not do that again. The people closest to me are the most
important.

Now back to thought, recently I've been having major thoughts of my death. Now
check it, I do not want to kill myself, I just wonder about the
repercussions of suicide or something worse. I also think about the method,
time place and whether other folks would be around if it happened. Now all of
this was triggered after I watched the most recent Spike Lee joint "She Hate
Me". Critics panned this movie and said that it was very unwatchable, I
thought not. Other than "Girl 6", this was a serious dive into fantasy and
fiction but you know Spike, his social-political rant and personal opinion was
added and I thought it was refreshing. Scorcese and Tarantino do it all the
time, and don't get me started on Stanley Kubrick!!!

My thing is, this movie had a very serious influence on my thought process
for the last two weeks or so. Now I know that TV, videos and songs that folks are
singing these days are very demeaning, but I thought based on my
beliefs and upbringing that I would never be influenced by any of these
things. The movie plot was simple... Corporate greed leads to lies and
deceit. The board of a small, but up and coming blue chip corporation are developing a
drug that will curb the spread of the HIV virus and the stock has already gone public
and split. Now of course, the drug isn't ready for public consumption and the FDA
rejected the drug but the company lies to the public and says all systems go for a
global product release which causes a surge in stock value. The chief scientist has been
keeping a video journal of the corporate lies, gives it to the central character in the flick
and commits suicide. This is how the movie starts. Now this isn't what the movie is
about, but it is one hell of a subplot.

I notice that Shelton Benjamin Lee leads the viewer into the subplot before
he reveals the main, and this is necessary to the viewer who would want to
submerge themselves into the story. Spike's joints always have a plethora of
supporting characters in order to add authenticity, such as it is in reality. To
know that Hollywood puts films out where the lead never visits or calls his
grandmother is farce. Never mind the impossible that already happens in
American film.

OK, so I ventured off onto a tangent, it happens. I felt compelled to explain
my reasoning seeing as I am a film whore as well as all things gadget. I
meant to go into detail about how media influences us, and how our inner
most thoughts are based off of them. I never had an inkling to take my own
life... I never had the thought of giving up so easily like a coward. Although I
could use that winning lottery ticket like the next person, my struggles are
small potatoes compared to the next guy. Something after seeing this
particular flick compelled me to delve into unknown thoughts of death and
repercussions. I don't want to die, but the events that occurred after a
central figure to the movie's plot committed suicide were too powerful for me to
ignore, causing me to wonder about my family and small circle of friends.

I don't have many.
Do I need more?
What about my family... Would they care enough to "do something" on my
behalf?
Have I done enough with my life to feel satisfied about all that I've
accomplished?
Have I turned that corner... Do I know where the corner is?
How will my death affect my family, my friends, the world?
What must I do RIGHT NOW to feel that I have worth and accomplishment,
and will I know it when I see it?

You see what happened there? A movie, a piece of media influenced me to
the point that I thought very deeply about my mortal existence. I thought
about my death and what happens afterwards more in the past two weeks
than I ever have in my life, which made me question the influence of hip hop
even more. What triggered my mind to concentrate about death so much?
The suicide scene only played once, I didn't rewind or re-view the frames to
watch it again. It just stuck there so I wonder... How does a child process that
bitch/nigga/gangsta/materialism bullshit that most major record labels push down our
throats in mainstream America? How does a young brother or sister differentiate
between a woman and a bitch ass hoe? How does a sister find the balance of wanting a
responsible brother that will show respect and take care of home from some ballin' ass
nigga that'll kick her down with the dollars he won't trick off?

The reality of these lyrics aren't really real. Hip Hop's mainstream representation is
farce, it's been that way for quite some time now, and it a'int stopping until it can no
longer be sold. What happens to our precious culture after that is a good question,
because we think we know the answer, but nobody's saying. Words indeed have the
power of life and death, and incantation is how we program the mind to do or not to
do.

How much longer will you let your 3 year old niece back that thing up and think it's
cute that she knows the lyrics to whatever misoginistic cut is on the radio right now?
How much longer will sisters ask where the good men are and then lose thier damn
minds when "Soldier" plays cause' "that's thier song"? How many of my sisters will
continue to be bitches and get absolutely no respect due to hip hop conditioning?

How can hip hop thrive when hip hop is sick and not getting better?
How much longer must I wait to see the culture thrive in our hands?
When will we take it back, or will we let the music get rode out like jazz?
The influence is great, when will the spiritual platform get off the ground?
Where is the candidate representing hip hop on the major political tickets?
A Rap Consortium needs to be established (and I just created that, give me credit), we
need a more powerful hip hop think tank.
I will no longer let something I support and believe in and be ran up in like some
hoodrat.

Uncomfortable silence....

For the past two weeks, that's what it has been. I've missed posting, but
from food poisoning, eye problems and family tragedies, uncomfortable silence has been the standard and the norm for me.

I haven't communicated with friends and family, I injured myself and have been affected by other's actions...

I'm horny, and I haven't acted... I'm being tested...

Black history month is a sham, and I wish "we" could do something about it.

I'm disappointed and kind of depressed about nothing and everything in
general. My job sucks and my friends are busy... But I love the air I breathe and I am so grateful just to be here right now.

I miss Nicque and 'Tisha, haven't talked to them either.

I have had fun though. I did get in some quality time. I am in love with a
Cruzan. Tim Duncan for MVP!!!

But, I still remain silent. My life is weird right now.

My new job search has ended.

I only drink wine now, and I think it's too much sometimes...

A family member committed a crime, I think about his
freedom lost and appreciate mine

Those thoughts weren't serious... But when you're depressed, you DO
think about it.

I wonder what my beloved aunt would be doing right now... It's
been 5 months since her passing... a piece of me is gone and can't come back.

Do you think Hip Hop will come back?

What would have happened if G Dub WASN'T President? You must admit, the right choice was made at this point. Every man should allowed to clean up his mess.

I hope Jamie Foxx doesn't pull a Cuba Gooding Jr. Sunday. I don't know,
that statue is a mutha focker. It's like crack... It'll make you do things.

I'm laying in my bed right now typing this on my laptop... Loading my iPod with stuff, ignoring folks calling the celly... This is probably why I'm single. Too nerdy.


Tam gon' rock I'll next week... You'll see!

I wish... I had... More time

Peace and Blessings in the name of the most high...

I took a week off, but not by design. I didn't get a chance to work out,
didn't get a chance to blog to my site, I did work on my business plan but that was about it.

My Brother and sister in law gave birth to twins last Monday, from there,
the course of events that guided the wee was set from there. It seems
that everything I did last week was tied into either family, friends or duty
towards them. I am still tired, didn't get much sleep due to running to the
four corners of the earth, other than that, this week I cleanse, so it should be a fun read for you.

Thursday: Deep Tissue Massage
Colonic
Friday: Left eye lasik surgery
Sensory deprivation float
Saturday: Police department Exam (whatever!!!)
Baby Shower for the twins (it's still on)
Farewell party for my girl Ruthie
Sunday: Catching wrestling PPV with my dad

It seems that my time is something that no longer belongs to me
anymore. I am in the middle of plotting and strategizing to bring the good ish, and that seems to take up a lot of life space. I will get a chance to cleanse and get rubbed down later this week.

A three day workweek... Good ish.

I wanna open up to y'all... So I added a chat room and discussion board.
A lot of y'all have been speaking to me, some I haven't heard from in quite
some time. It's nice to know that The Creator has blessed you with health
and prosperity. I do have one wish, I wish that we can cross lines so the
forums emanate from there. Plus there is a podcast coming in a few where game will be chopped and topics will be covered that matter to those that exist in the same realm I do.

I was recently asked by coworkers who my favorite superhero was. I
really didn't think about it much, the answer came right out. My younger
brother. Now I do have an older brother, and he was definitely in the
running, but after further review, the former beat out the latter by a hair.

I sit back and watch this cat, and it's amazing how he (and my older
brother) does what his thing. He's a college student, husband, father of
three (him and my sister in law just had twins 02/07/2005) and has the
nerve to still be on the humble while providing and guiding life as well as
adding a little satisfaction to wifey (twins? Damn!!!)

I can actually recall my brother from day one. I remember my mom telling my older brother and I that she was pregnant (again!) and that four would be a good whole number (actually five, but my older sis was called home early and we were blessed by my aunt, but that's another story) and we ran with it. I remember him running and not walking his first steps, and him having to get entirely undressed just to use the bathroom.
He's always been independent of the others in a way that I really cannot
explain, where I am distant and come around only when I want to be
bothered, Lil Bruh' is always involved in family matters, but still is given the time to think and reflect alone, he is indeed a thinker.

I remember him and my litter sister becoming close, you can't separate
the two to this day! They protected each other in ways only a sibling can
do. You see, they grew up in a time different that I did, and I was either a
teenager doing my thang or an adult trying to establish said things, so I
was a big brother. I mention that because right before Lil' Bruh and sis
started to come of age, my parents split and fending for self was very
necessary. You see, I grew up with a father. If I needed guidance or to
relate to something, pops was there. As many ass whippings I got, I'm
glad he was there to set me straight. It didn't hit me that they were
without until I was overseas and unable to do anything about it. So I
came home.

When I got back from the military, I made sure that the foot was put
down. When it came to showing Lil Bruh and sis what not to do, I made it
clear. I realized that they were watching me with intense scrutiny, and I
had to make sure that an example was set on what a black man was to be. They kept me on point. I could not be seen as a failure in their eyes. My dad at that time was coming back from his drug problem, and my mom was working 16 to 20 hours a day. I would not have my kinfolk out on those streets. It would have broken my heart to have seen either one of them fail, and back in the day, my older brother was "assigned" my sister, Lil Bruh was mine.

When my girl and I hung out, my brother was there. When we made
those field trips that couples make, he was there. When he wasn't hanging out with us, he was involved either with church activities (him and my sister perfected this puppet ministry show and had a successful run) or with other members of the family. Much respect goes out to my Uncle Ed, who was a major role model for not just my brother but my cousins as well. He showed the boys in the family that a black man could achieve whatever through faith, hard work and respect. That and other things seemed to work.

Bruh had a hard time accepting the fact that pops couldn't make the time
due to working on self. My dad had to re-find himself, so for a little bit of
time (you know which years, the formulative teen ones), there was little
contact. Pops had beaten the habit, but being a black man in America,
starting from zero at his age was difficult to say the least, and it wasn't like we were all there for him at times. Just being honest... But he overcame. My brother saw this and had to respect and acknowledge it. We all bridged that gap with pops and I think it set the wheels in motion for my brother being a dad and a leader.

I watched him go thru the changes. I watched the struggle to stay off the
corner. I watched him go thru relationships. He handled himself better
than I did in those matters. Hell, I'm 34 and still without wife (by choice,
of course), that is based on choice. I watched him make the choice to
become husband. I did not know that he had it in him. I knew he was
ready, but he never showed doubt. That was faith, and he stepped out on
it. So far, so good. In his mind, he had already taken care of business
when it came to marriage and family because he had the examples right in front of him. My brother was working on hero status years ago.

Lil Bruh would call and ask questions after he got married. I could not
answer, he already knew so I had (still have to) play Morpheus to his Neo. He is the one, but he has to just believe in it and let go. Last Monday, I saw the look of fatigue and terror in his eyes, after his sons made it to this realm, I saw relief, but the fear was still there. It's supposed to be. I would be terrified too. 3 boys. 1 job. 1 wife. 2 years. I already see some of his thought. I already see some of the plan. Them boys gon' be alright because he already has taken care of them. His faith is working.

I enjoy him explaining his thought process, I majored in electrical
engineering, and so did he. He flexes his mathematical skills (yeah, twins) and damn near over analyzes almost everything to a fault. This is good, because as a young black man in America with a family, you gotta have survival down to a science. He maps, just like me (although I map more than dude in A Brilliant Mind - bothers folks) and his follow thru is certain. Now that he has kids, he really cannot fail. I watched this dude just jump in and hustle for that change, Bruh' is serious about his paper. He actually comes with an idea, goes somewhere to plot it out, speaks on it and jumps right in with the revised plan. I'm more cautious. I admire his bravery in taking risks, especially with a family.

One thing I especially like is his spirituality. Dude will not budge or
compromise his beliefs. This is my grandmother and my dad. The thought of my dad and how/what he believes damn near brings me to tears. Lil Bruh' sometimes questions his faith, and there were times where overstanding does not balance the under, but he knew that God will only give you what you must have and take things away with blunt swiftness. After seeing that look in his eyes Monday at the hospital, I know that his sons, my nephews are destined for greatness. This cat has the blessing of handing down all of the knowledge from parallel sides of two great black families. The balance has been handed to him. I think my role as advisor has officially ended. It is my brother a decade younger who I will now ask. Now there are things that he has yet to experience, but one must let a man travel his own path, so I step back.

In the words of our enlightened wayberarers, I greet you - Hotep!!!

What is your Life's Blueprint?

Note: Six months before he was assassinated, King spoke to a group of students at
Barratt Junior High School in Philadelphia on October 26, 1967.

I want to ask you a question, and that is: What is your life's Blueprint?

Whenever a building is constructed, you usually have an architect who draws a
blueprint, and that blueprint serves as the pattern, as the guide, and a building is
not well erected without a good, solid blueprint.

Now each of you is in the process of building the structure of your lives, and the
question is whether you have a proper, a solid and a sound blueprint.

I want to suggest some of the things that should begin your life's blueprint. Number
one, in your life's blueprint, should be a deep belief in your own dignity, your worth
and your own somebodiness. Don't allow anybody to make you feel that you're
nobody. Always feel that you count. Always feel that you have worth, and always
feel that your life has ultimate significance.

Secondly, in your life's blueprint you must have as the basic principle the
determination to achieve excellence in your various fields of endeavor. You're going
to be deciding as the days, as the years unfold what you will do in life-- what your
life's work will be. Set out to do it well.

And I say to you, my young friends, doors are opening to you - doors of
opportunities that were not open to your mothers and your fathers-- and the great
challenge facing you is to be ready to face these doors as they open.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, the great essayist, said in a lecture in 1871, "If a man can
write a better book or preach a better sermon or make a better mousetrap than his
neighbor, even if he builds his house in the woods, the world will make a beaten
path to his door."

This hasn't always been true-- but it will become increasingly true, and so I would
urge you to study hard, to burn the midnight oil; I would say to you, don't drop
out of school. I understand all the sociological reasons, but I urge you that in spite
of your economic plight, in spite of the situation that you're forced to live in-- stay
in school.

And when you discover what you will be in your life, set out to do it as if God
Almighty called you at this particular moment in history to do it. Don't just set out
to do a good job. Set out to do such a good job that the living, the dead or the
unborn couldn't do it any better.

If it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, sweep streets like Michelangelo painted
pictures, sweep streets like Beethoven composed music, sweep streets like
Leontyne Price sings before the Metropolitan Opera. Sweep streets like Shakespeare
wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have
to pause and say: Here lived a great street sweeper who swept his job well. If you
can't be a pine at the top of the hill, be a shrub in the valley. Be be the best little
shrub on the side of the hill.

Be a bush if you can't be a tree. If you can't be a highway, just be a trail. If you
can't be a sun, be a star. For it isn't by size that you win or fail. Be the best of
whatever you are.

I lifted that from the estate of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Designing a blueprint is simple. What I noticed is that getting the funding, finding
good laborers and obtaining reliable material to build is the difficult part. I found a
way to create a working budget, eliminate folks skimming off of my life's payroll and
have come with a working design that astounds even me. The hardest part is
feeling the need to go back and redesign something that was already approved in
said blueprint.

Sometimes I wanna go back and do things over. Not to impress or to relieve pain (I
think that's necessary for me to grow), but it was something that made me want to
live in that moment at that time. Whether it was the person, surroundings or
situation, sometimes I want to go there, but it is impossible to go back, so I reflect. I
remember smells, sounds and the feelings that I either shared or experienced. Feels
good sometimes, but then... WHAM!!! Reality sets back in and I see why I had to
abandon that previous design. I have never seen myself as a perfect person, hell at
one time I never even thought of myself. I just did things that I thought pleased
people, whoever they were.

I realize now why I felt unfulfilled and decided to do something about it. I rejoice in
the fact that I had the strength to act on my pain. It hurts that I have to hurt
those that don't understand. It also feels empty sometimes because some of them
folks were at my right hand. Now I stand alone. When alone becomes lonely due to
me cleaning house, I call on Him. I am provided with activity, good thought and the
voices of those no longer here to scold or guide me. I never knew how powerful it
was to stand in the presence of my Grandmother. I can still hear her! Freaks me out
sometimes, but she keeps me out of jams when my mind replays stuff I remember
her saying back in the day.

When I shop or am out alone spending money, I swear my Granddad is making
sure I don't get hustled because he was a hustler. I know that they're not voices in
the literal sense but I have thought, I comprehend it and it guides me away from
things/people/situations that can harm me. My decision making process is based on
my upbringing and surroundings, and even if your intentions are good, that portion
of my life may prevent you from getting close to me. This tells me that I must be
special.

God would never allow me be harmed if I choose his path. So far my actions have
kept me out of trouble. That doesn't mean that I won't encounter rough seas in the
future, but I know now that where I'm going feels right based on what or who I do.
That's not a typo. I've encountered the right people in my life at the wrong times.
Most of my relationships have been that way, but I learned from them.

Right now I choose to establish things that will help and not hurt. I know who my
biological daddy is, but I never chose to approach him seeing as he has never
approached me. My step dad loved my mother so much that he chose my brother
and I when he chose her. This man is my father and that's all I know. When my
mother remarried, the man that is she chose to spend her life with after him I
consider my stepfather. They both are God fearing, knowledgeable men that
became daddy and continue to shape my life. For that, I chose to ignore the so
called sperm donor. I realize now that this is not who he is, and I must get to know
this man as well.

Sometimes God will provide someone that will jump start your car battery when
you are stranded in the middle of a deserted area. This is what this man did for my
mom when they got together. He was sent to provide life and nothing else. I think
he did a great job (I mean, I am a handsome cat with loving friends and family... I
have accomplished some things) Now is my time to compliment him on doing just
that. Part of my design is to make sure all of the sub architects are re numerated
and appreciated for their work. I gotta go find George W. (his real name) and
intercede like the Lord has inspired me to.

When coming up with a blueprint, we must research. I gotta first find out why G
Dub (what I call him - Son of a Bush!) never felt like contacting me. 35 years and we
only spoke to each other a week before I graduated from the eighth grade. For
some reason I got mad and was never curious, but now, I am more about
completion than just wondering about the man who gave me my DNA. I wanna
connect because this is my design. Like Neo in "The Matrix", part of my design is to
go back to the source.

Have you ever met someone that you cannot
have? Have you ever felt someone that you
knew felt you back, but the whole scenario feels
like something from Erykah's "Next Lifetime"
video? This was my Saturday night. My super
bowl eve was spent in a place where I never
intended to meet someone I would feel.

Of course I would like to explore possibilities.
Of course I was stunned and amazed. Of course
I feel like building something after, you know.
Time is crucial and of the essence. It's the one
thing we don't get back... I try not to let past lives
affect my present and/or future. I have no hang
ups, but sometimes folks interpret my education
from the past as me living in them. An ex told
me "I don't do ex's" I agree. That's why they're
ex's, right?

There is a hurdle. Yes, there is a restriction. I
might not get the time I want to explore said
possibilities, and there might be a chance to do
just that but I must be patient. If not, I have
accepted things that I cannot have, but the
picture embedded in my mind has me thinking...
Hard.

Damn!

Did I mention that I was stunned?