Seven Things

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

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

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

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

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


Seven Things I...

Plan to Do Before I Die:

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


Things I Can Do:

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


Things I Can't Do:

1. Let someone else control my emotions
2. Stop being stubborn and brutally honest (it hurts people sometimes)
3. Tell people what I really want (mostly when I'm in a relationship)
4. Stick with a workout plan
5. Say no (I hate that!)
6. Lie to myself
7. Shut up (I talk too much like Data from Star Trek, so it's very analytical and from logic's standpoint... please stop me!!!)


Things I say most:

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


Things that attract me to the opposite sex:

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


Celebrity crushes

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


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

It's an Oso Krispie Wednesday

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

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

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

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


THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT?
Notorious B.I.G. Ready To Die (reissue)


WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
4:4:45am (that's if I sleep)


WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE KITCHEN APPLIANCE?
Stove (it's where the magic happens)


IF YOU COULD PLAY AN INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I play bass and drums, so maybe a brass instrument. The sax is a sexy thang


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


FAVORITE CHILDREN'S BOOK?
The Little Train That Could


WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON?
Fall


IF YOU HAVE (or wanted) A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT?
Flames on my forearms. Like this... want one (or two - both arms)

IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPERPOWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Invisibility


ONE PERSON/PEOPLE FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO:
My Grandmother Willa Francis and my Aunt Desiree


WHAT IS UNDER YOUR BED?
Nothing, maybe the cat every now and then.


WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE DAY?
Saturday. Nothing happens there. And that's how I like it.


WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SUSHI OR HAMBURGER?
CHICKEN!!!


WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER?
Sunflower. Stands tall, looks good and above most gives nourishment. Just like I like my women.


DO YOU LIKE YOUR JOB?
It's OK..Pays the bill I guess


WHAT IS YOUR DREAM JOB?
Owning my own, being my own employee (writing, music)


THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
My Focus, my faith and steadiness in times of trouble.


THREE THINGS YOU HATE/DISLIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
Keeping people at arms distance, my diabetes, mstubbornnessss


THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
Prayer, Spending time alone to think/plot/strategize, sleep.


THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
Grey button down shirt, charcoal grey dress slacks, black leather 3/4 boots


THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS/ARTISTS (AT THE MOMENT):
Prince, The Roots, India.Arie


THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
A 30 day fast, cashing a big ass check, purchasing a home


THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (LOVE IS A GIVEN):
Someone who want/lovess me for me, passion for the arts (and hip hop), the ability to be my equal spiritually/emotionally/mentally


THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (OR SAME) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
Eyes, hips, fingertips (ok, the whole hand, that just sounds good when I say it)


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


THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
Writing, losing myself in other people's music, reading something

Dissecting My Life Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dissecting My Life Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The funk.


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

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


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


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


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


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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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.