Oh Snap!

That's right dammit.

I blogged.

Haven't had the motivation in the past week and some change. Sometimes silence is golden.

Don't worry, everything still works.

Hell, my phone broke and I just decided to get it fixed. I'm blogging using the store display laptop. The speed is fine, I night just buy this broadband card.

I'm out for now.

I miss you guys


Later gator.

doo the Humpty Hump, doo the Humpty Hump

So...

It's the middle of the week and I'm bored out of my mind. I signed on to roll out with a new transport company which means this little dance I do at my current, but short lived gig is just that. A dance. More like me getting 30 seconds on Soul Train as I boogie oogie oogie on down the line hamming it up doing that shoulder thing, thus maximizing my camera time. Trying to get thru the day knowing that I won't be there in a few short weeks makes a brother want to hit that snooze button.

Okay, wait. I have no snooze button.

I'm one of those cats that just gets up and it happens to be the right time to do so. Some nights I'm on the phone until... It's time to get up. Other times I'm watching this extensive collection of DVDs I've collected the last time I was roaming the US via its interstate system. I'm loving my Nigerian titles. African novellas are the ish!

How does one stay focused on working for the man when in mere days they'll be working for themselves? The new gig with the transportation people is a independent contractor job. I visualized, made my actions positive towards it and claimed it with my spirit, then I made a phone call... Oh snap, in March I start paying myself. It's just like what the big O said... Write your own checks, son! Pay yourself, kid!

Wait, that was Funkmaster Flex.

I'm slippin.

Hey, guess what? It's not hard anymore to just turn off the TV and get an hour or two of writing in for the book. It ain't hard (now that I have some new help) to put that chorus in my head onto an unfinished track. Lot's of emailing though fer sure, but I seem to have the concept down with this new cat that's beatmaking for me. He's downstate and we barely talk to each other offline. I tell him something, leave it on his voicemail or he'll email me a track and I find something stupid to jot down and we go from there. I wonder why that ish didn't work in the past.

I'm looking to get into a condo here in the Chicago area that I can sublet on short notice. Thank the lord for craigs.list (to find folks to sublet to) and thank the lord for redevelopment in my old neighborhood. Two bedrooms and a possible two baths wrapped up somewhere around 2500 square feet is a reality for my stank ass. It took all of this time, a few break-ups and me wandering away from Chicago to have finally found some semblance of home (upon lender preapproval).

I wanna teach, so there are classes that I gotta take right here in the Chi, so I can't leave just yet. There are also so many ends (I had to take away the loose moniker) that need tying here that I might as well base myself out of here. Plus that opportunity with the transport folks allows me to be here often (weekends) and have control of my schedule. And the pay is tight too. I just hope I don't get distracted away from what I gotta do now that I was able to put the clamps down on the job situation. A single man with no kids and his nights and weekends free with some loose change in his pocket can cause a lot of trouble.

I just wanna finish my book.
And take these classes that I can finally afford.
And get this CD on dem skreets.

Now, I gotta focus and get back to getting up early enough to get to work. For now. I totally blew Monday off and called in and was late both Tuesday and today. On purpose. I need two more paychecks from their asses, so I better hem it up.

Like a 0ne inch cuff on a pleated pant leg.

"Ain't nothing like a fresh pair of baggies"
- Morris Day

Monday Night Rah

Damn...

It's almost been a week. I know, I know. I've been a little incognegro in the past week. Just adjusting and thangs. New job, a lot of travel and adjusting to my living arrangement. It is supposed to be 35 degrees below zero here, and it feels of it. From zooming from the spot to a favorite cafe I can't get my feet to get warm enough. All conditions gear my ass!

I got a chance to hang out with my brother and catch the big game yesterday. We had... Wait, I had fun. My brother was five the last time the home team made it this far, so he was hellbent on rooting for the home team. I embarrassingly admitted to being in high school and that made my brother freak a little and break the tension of him and others a little too into a simple football game. Yes, dude counted on his fingers the years that I've been alive and laughed. I laughed too. I'm just not sure if I was laughing with him.

We went to this uber bar out in the burbs and the Chicago thing was in overdrive. For the last two weeks I watched damn near every reporter from each TV station here report about absolutely nothing from Miami just because the home team made it. Nothing was said about game planning, strategies for winning nor was any practice footage shown. It seems everyone drank the Bears championship kool aid and never considered that a game had to be played for the Bears to actually win.

And then the game was played.
And they lost.

Next question.

But other than that, I got plans to get back on the road and see the east coast in the next few weeks. Just signed up with another transport company. I'm tired of sitting on my ass and watching the world when I can come to it. The new job totally sucks in a I have to go to work and deal with these assholes and not sit around and chill in my truck sort of way, but other than that...

I'm happy.

My best friend just made it convenient for me to want to stay in Chicago. Friends need friends and she needs me, so I ain't going too far with the new driving job. I might just go regional, stack my paper for the Africa trip and get in 2 huge investments of classes that'll help me be able to teach. The book of poetry is writing itself and the music stuff is cool right now.

I'm chilling, you?

I Know What It Is...

I am a thinking and singular black man living in America.

I am independent and function, or at least I thought I was.

I am emotionally driven. I'm supposed to be. We are the only creatures on this planet that express emotion in such a dominant form.

I am also irresponsible. Why else did I eat that pork, smoke and drink my liver down to the size of an overused piece of soap back in the day?

I am responsible for killing my own kind (military shit - unless you've taken someone else's life and got paid and rewarded for it you have no opinion of us that have in Iraq, Vietnam or other places we've been sent to 'keep us free') We are the only species that does this out of spite.

We smote.
I smite, you smite, we all smite... We smote.

My emotions govern me. It is my spiritual destiny to be here and share with you now, ya dig?

Until the other day, my self image was based on pure reason. True reason. Logic. Bullshit.

I now see me... Emotionally.

The other day I was sleeping peacefully when I came out of slumber at about 2:30 in the AM. I was dreaming lucidly and I was the young, sexier and dreaded version of Quincy, MD. I was a coroner. I was working just doing my thing when a junior cat attempted to stop me from seeing the new batch of bodies that came into the morgue. I went about my business and uncovered body number one...

It was my ex.
My first love.

Now, I wasn't mad at her being dead or shocked to see her on the slab. It was just... She was just as beautiful as she is in the flesh. That woman is drop dead gorgeous. Shit. I didn't deserve her and we had issues that we never brought up in damn near a decade and almost a half. I cannot tell you how she died because her body was intact. She looked at peace sans the normal color non dead folk have. One thing.

I could not perform the autopsy.
I could not cut her body open.
I would not.

I even moved her body to another table so I could observe her in better light. When I picked her up it 'felt' like she still had a pulse. To everyone she was without life but this woman to me was still alive. I wanted to use make up to make it look like I did my job, but I knew that her family would notice something. There is a reason bodies are embalmed, nuff said.

I woke up and my stomach hurt badly.

I need to share what happened next.

I vomited all of my stomach's contents for about 45 minutes. 12 times over the toilet. I was shocked that I had that much in me, including the dry heaves. I then sat down on the bowl and completely emptied my bowel's contents. I mean I could not stop eliminating my innards and that lasted damn near an hour. Yes, it felt and smelled out of the ordinary, and I did take a look at my stool. There was stuff that had been inside of me for quite some time. I cried, sweated, got paranoid all in a few minutes. I was hungry and my stomach quivered right after I managed to get myself off the damn toilet.

I took a shower and could not warm up. I shook, cried again and then I had one thought.

Most of my problems stem from a lack of faith in myself because I lack direction. I lack faith because I built up all of these false images of who I thought I was. If my images were false then the thoughts were too.

I am not Hassan, and that hurt me to know that I am only what I thought other things defined me as. I built myself based on images of the external, you know the material. How can I ever know my attributes, my strengths or my intuitive creative ability if I only examine my external conditions and believe only what has been told to me about who I'm supposed to be by other folk and me being a product of my environment?

I didn't know exactly who I was or what I was supposed to do because as an former girlfriend put it 'I did not understand myself'. I can't move forward until I know me and feel good about knowing me and accepting what I'm supposed to do.

I know the first thing I need to do... I gotta remove myself from this place.

I'm leaving Chicago for good this time. I do not belong here. There is no purpose emotionally and spiritually for the man called Hassan to be in this place right now or in the future. I came back and got safe in denial in who I am and slid further down the slope of not knowing or understanding myself.

Fuck that.

I know now who I am. That moment of sickness was symbolic of draining out the physical. I need to purge the mental, emotional and the spiritual and that means that I need to put new things inside of me in order to deal with those that deserve to be loved by me and that is all of y'all.

Ya dig?

I don't hate you, but...

But I damn sure don't love you either.

I guess I had a second post in me today.

You know what I hate? I mean what I totally hate? I hate the fact that no one can be direct with you. It's rare that people practice open and honestly with you these days. I try to exist in a realm that I put my expectations out there and want the same to be thrown back at me.

I can't get that.

I know that this is a cynical world and honesty is the last thing I should expect, but damn can a brother find a job, a friend, a relationship where he can be comfortable in knowing that he can deal in an emotional, spiritual and physical realm of honesty?

I am a black man.

I don't like rims.
I don't wear iced out jewelery.
Even though I am the embodiment of Hip Hop, I like my music composed.
I'm the grittiest educated negro I know. Next to the late Kahlid Muhammad.
I want a wife... I even would like to have a child, even though I say otherwise.
I never want to have a child out of wedlock.
I know the power of narcotics and alcohol, so I keep distance these days.
I invest my cash and always attempt to keep a stack so I can rock out when I want to.
I watch chick flicks, but I go to the shooting range with my dawgs to get that aggressiveness out.
I love children. I even volunteer at that children's hospital because they bring me joy.
I put in over 150 hours already in 2007.
I am an avid sports fan, but will TiVo the friggin Super Bowl this weekend if that means that I get to spend time with 'her'...
I create my own greeting cards and take my own photos... I am a crafter. I craft dammit.
I beat the shit out of the heavy bag on the regular. I have to because niggas ain't shit.
I am a sensitive man. I said that shit. I care not if the next man thinks that I'm a punk. The next man will get ass definitely and completely kicked if he bumps my family's record player. The record better not skip.
I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
I will end an important day early to make love to my honey. Business can wait.
I will cook, clean and pay the bills for her. I will not help her suppress in order to have a false sense of happiness.
I like a house kept by a woman. I got sports, working out and other man shit to make up for having peach colored drapes in my bedroom. That shit is comfortable, trust me.
I work. I have nothing else to say other than I work. I earn everything I get in this piece.


All of those things make me me. I have no idea why the world wants to whip out it's proverbial dick and take a piss on me. Seeing that I don't have an umbrella, I will kindly step out of the stream and kick the living shit out of the world's balls just to let it know that I'm standing down here trying to do my thing. I don't know where some of y'all got your home training, but if I extend my hand to you, know that I do it in honesty. It is tiring to keep getting a warm handshake and an ulterior motive. I still need some of me to continue to exist.

If I work for you, pay me and respect my gansta and privacy.
I date you and you respect me the way I do you.
If you are my blood relative, don't take advantage of me because I got some loot or know someone. Also, don't shut me out because I won't give your crackhead daughter 20 bux.
If you are my friend, don't sell me out and then think I won't want to tear a hole in your ass because I've been exposed by you.
If you read my blog and we have a relationship offline, don't be surprised if you get hit in the neck with a blogpost when you least expect it.
If you read my blog and we had a relationship offline and no longer communicate, know that I will never share your secrets and put your business on the street (that goes for those that hold current status too) just because we no longer kick it. I still respect you and yours, we just weren't meant to kick it long term. I expect you to extend the same.
If you are my mother and you read some shit (did that on purpose) that snaps your neck, know that this is my blog and if you want to, you can post a comment or better yet, you can start your own blog.
If you are a sibling and it hurt you to find out that I got touched by dude that used to be the bus chaperon... There are things you aren't supposed to know as a shorty, but you're grown now. Just as you have your own shit, I got mine. Respect.
If you stop by and are wondering just what the hell is going on here... It's a blog dammit. I can do whatever the hell I want to here. Be a little abstract and try to read between the lines sometimes.

All I want is to deal with and be dealt with on the up and up with folks. Is that much to ask for?

T - Minus 3 Days And Counting...

In the name of the Most High I greet you:

Peace and Blessings

It's been a week or so since I 've had the chance to get to my own blog and spit a little something. A lot has happened and I was planning on touching a few of those events via this blog.

But I'm not.

I guess after reading responses and getting emails as well as having convo with a lot of folk I've noticed a disturbing trend. Black folks are down with the status quo. A lot of of have gotten complacent and like the fact that they do nothing and get nothing because it's expected. I have to accept that. As much as I don't want to I gotta take that and I hate it.

Yeah, I said it... I hate it and I never use that word or express that feeling.

I feel what Oprah was saying with that whole building over there thing as opposed to building over here. People think that since some cat balls his way into the NBA or NFL, or if someone gets blessed with fabulous-ness that they're supposed to automatically just trick off that hard earned paper on their trifling asses.

Wrong answer.

So sister Winfrey built a school across the water for our cousins. A lot of us don't even know what's going on with famo over there anyway, so why should you care? America has this attitude that no other country has. We actually believe that we can do anything if given the chance and opportunity is taken advantage of. If this is the case, then why aren't we off our lazy asses making things happen for change? Of course no one can really answer this question because the answer isn't the same depending on where you're at (remember, it ain't where you from...).

I definitely want to get over to the motherland and lend my hand in whatever capacity I'm needed and create a bridge to get to my cousins this year. I want to leave a piece of myself that I can visit there and I wanna bring something back to share with you. My pisstivity levels have been affected by my attempting to make change here and being slapped in the face by the shiftless and ignorant. Now, I still plan on doing my thing here, but I need a break from the killing fields of the abundant and just get a chance to live among folks that can appreciate the simple things like friggin air, you know?

I'm also frustrated with my hustlers, the brothers and sisters in the infastructure struggle because in conversation and in history repeating itself things like redlining, white flight and blocked opportunities has created this weird pothole in people of color establishing businesses in the neighborhoods that need fiscal cultivation the most. Did you know that there are different zoning and tax laws that make it more expensive to open up a bodega in the hood. This legal and binding structure that is still on the books in most urban cities differs from the laws that exist in more affluent neighborhoods. What kind of shit is this? Am I supposed to live in an area where my people are forced to go outside of fiscal boundaries just to get a decent meal or clothing? I can't go to the hardware store for a tub of spackle? What if I just wanted a cup of coffee and a damn doughnut? Have you noticed that the Black/Mexican/Native corner store is a thing of the past? Have you noticed that the only pastry you'll get these days is the one at the big-ass grocery store or big box bastids?

And them fuckers don't offer healthcare the way we can effectively use it. Give the Governator and G Dub's cabinet (please... have an open mind, he's got a legacy to establish) kudos for making tax credits possible for those that pay for healthcare, even if it is a useless HMO or the PPO providor is three zip codes over. Who am I referring to:

Detroit
Chicago
Cleveland
Los Angeles
Dallas
Atlanta
New Orleans
Tulsa
Miami
District of Columbia
Boston
New York
Philadelphia

I can go on... The fact that educational systems in these and other cities lack the proper funding, leading one to becoming more ignorant of programs, policies and laws that can help one rise and bring the ghetto up with them is a tough pill for me to swallow. Home Ec was the bomb back in high school, but has anyone ever thought of giving a class on maintaining a bank account, how to write check and the pitfalls pimping credit as an early adult? It leads my people to totally overlook entrepenurialism and making social change where they lie because they have to put more hours in at the gig due to not having the correct pedigree. Low friggin wages, man. That is the truth. Folks that have no degree make less than those that do, so more hours are needed to make the pursuit if the American dream happen, and lord help you if you are blessed with children. The 20 year gig at the plant is a thing of the past.

Talk about the dangling carrot.

If one doesn't make a collective effort to raise the hood out of the ashes of the King riots, then how are we to have these great mini villages that'll cultivate the children of those that erected pyramids with advanced math and no bulldozers?

Were will we shop? How is the dollar to recycle if big-box keeps getting it and is doing nothing to put it back? You really think that that faux African gear at Target puts food on your table when in the next couple of days there will be so many fairs and open markets that'll have the real thing in the spirit of Black History Month?

How will you ever get back into school if your SSN remains on the IRS Tax Offset List? Get out of default fam, please! Use your tax return to do that and/or open up a real savings account instead of feeding the pre-paid debit card industry millions a buck or two at a time.

I got a idea for a project. Let's start a library at the crib for our shorties. You think wen can get over to the used bookstore and get stuff that'll stimulate your mind and your lil man/princess' too? Don't let that "He only reads at the Nth grade level" thing stop you. We gotta educate our children too. We can't let our seeds minds rest in the hands of the school system alone, especially if it's under funded. What about a book a week? If you have no shorties, eff it... do it for yourself. Increase your own levels of knowledge.

What about product boycotts? If we were to not buy Newport cigarettes for one day, imagine the response big tobacco would have to them there actions. A week without loot from our community would have representatives storming our blocks like one of their VPs went missing. Trust me, we have so much power and this is the perfect time to get furious.

I may be tired of seeing all of those damn vacant lots and abandoned buildings on my block, but I still know that it is home. Ownership brings pride... Pride creates responsibility. That is taught to the generations that'll care for us when we can no longer care for ourselves, ya feel me?

Get out of that funk fam... Please. I need you. I want to continue to break bread with you.

I will never forsake you, but I need a break from y'all in the same breath. It's a fucking shame that I want to willingly go and live in a land where turf wars mean genocide of entire bloodlines, AIDS runs rampant and to live in poverty is something to aspire to. But I have to mention how much it tires me to see us wallow in brand name jeans, sneaker collections, iPods and fake hair and cry poor like we're suffering and are helpless. I cannot take that as the truth and I cannot see us damn near panhandle to get something and know that is wasn't earned. How much longer will we as a people look at responsibility and do nothing to claim it and perform the actions to correct it? As long as we lease shit from the so-called powers that be we'll never have pride of ownership, so I guess things will continue to look ugly in my neighborhood.

And for all of those that have educated themselves, got all bourgie and left the hood in it's current condition by refusing to teach the principles and methods that got you out and chose not to reach out to pull the rest of those that don't know... Damn you all to hell. I have words for you, and they are harsh and extreme and have a lot to do with lengthy decapitation and torture before death but I won't display them here, but know that I have the type of disdain for you that the Most High had for the earth that forced him/her to flood it out and end all life, even plantation and threaten it with fire the next time it messed up. You folk do not exist in my mind. You are more like potholes in the road. I want to use hot asphalt to place inside of you, flatten it out and then drive over you with a large construction machine. I hope it pains you for a thousand lifetimes, nuff said.

We ain't destitute, we're lazy.

And we're dying because of it. I ain't mad about it. Someone has to die in a war, right? It's just an inconvienient truth that I step over a lot of brown bodies. One thing, y'all look good in death. Them outfits and hairstyles are kicking! Oh, and you won't need those Jordans anymore, right?

Thanks. My cousin really wanted that new color scheme.

Live... From Under A Rock!

Damn, fam...

I've been in the basement mixing up some serious stuff for the near future and totally lost track on reading and hooking up new blogs.

I'm fine. Just chilling, watching a little football and writing/recording... Just don't tell MorninMan. I got something up my sleeve and I had to just get away and crank that out while it was fresh in my mind. I've also been pinching pennies as of late, so I haven't been going out as much. The last time I snuck into my favorite diner at 2am I swear I saw someone familiar...

I got some new poetic joints that I want to throw at y'all, but I need my own attention to be paid to the blog first. I've noticed that a lot of y'all ain't blogging. I hope we get our refresh on and get back out there.

I see you Toneec42!!! Been a long time sis!

I'm very surprised to see that some folks found my last post well, too much. Our president has to work round and about all of the points I raised and 100 times more. I thought that most of us were aware of what was going on outside our homes and businesses. We take so much time to protect ourselves from the elements, out autos from damage and our clothing from dirt and stains. I just thought that the things we mortgage were just as important.

Oh, and I ain't running but I will make change.

It's time to get furious.

Homework Assignment

Since a certain brother has formed a presidential exploratory committee and all of these folks are either getting ready to jump on the bandwagon or throw stones, I have an idea or two and some comments:

*Explore both parties and their affiliations with local movers and shakers.
*Speak with the local councilperson in your area/ward and get his/her opinion on this so-called phenomenon.
*Find out which labor parties are affiliated with each candidate.
*Also, find out how your state congressman/woman and senator feels about the new happening.
*Research campaign contributions and see who's donating to said campaign(s)
*What HB/SB's has your local politician put into motion? Did it get passed?
*Are there additional bills attached and what is the time frame of them getting to the floor?
*What would your solution be to the current military situation... And be serious with figures and spending.
*How would you restructure the current budget (both local, regional and nationally) to make enough funding available to everyone?
*Which special interest groups are affiliated with your candidates and why?
*Have you criticised GW about foreign policy? Okay, if so... Who do you nominate to handle it in 2008? Why?
*What credentials do your cabinet members have?
*How do you increase spending for public school programs and not raise taxes?
*How do you give tax breaks for the working class and not pass obvious flaws off on the working poor?
*How does the working poor get a break on obtaining real property? Education?
*Do the free trade agreements need restructuring with Mexico and China?
*How do we deal with China, North Korea and Iran as nuclear powers?
*How will post Iraq troop movement affect stability in that region?
*How do we serve Israel and protect Palestine in the same breath?
*If we do that, how do we separate opposing factions in Northern Africa?
*Can a fair trade agreement be reached for resources and stabilization there?
*How can we put another 25% of high school grads thru college in the hood?
*Can we restructure the forbearance and deferment programs to match the default rehab program?
*Is it possible to put the A+, MCSE and CCNA/CCNP programs at a vocational level?
*Wouldn't that open up a whole new revenue stream for Microsoft and Cisco?
*Wouldn't that open a window of partnership with urban high schools and technical colleges?
*Wouldn't it be nice to earn $40k at 22 with limited college experience?
*Wouldn't it be cool for the big three to open hybrid assembly plants in North America?
*Wouldn't it be cool if the iPhone and other Apple brand products be manufactured here in the US?
*It would be cooler for an open health care system here as well.
*Cooler if black greek organizations get together open a big-ass savings account and purchase available stock of XYZ corporation and have a controlling interest. How would THAT shareholder meeting look? And wouldn't we have say so in manufacturing, marketing, research and development?
*What happened to the black farmer? What happened to clone-free, steroid-free organic foods?
*Could Wesley Snipes get a pardon and lead the president's council on physical fitness?

Why am I asking all the damn questions? Am I the only one concerned with this shit? Probably. I hear a lot of talk about 'Bush' with no real solutions. Obama might seem like a likely candidate, but is he really? Who is? Why? What research have you done? Is that the only thing you'll do is complain? What happened to the revolutionaries? What about the folks that got off their asses and actually did something? Remember, we have the right to form a militia. If folks were really upset about the troops in Iraq, why didn't GW get impeached? Didn't 'Slick Willie' get impeached over an illegal land deal after getting caught in the middle of a blow job scandal in the big house? How does that happen when 'Bush' is supposedly worse than 'Slick'?

I know.

Money talks and bullshit walks.
Our people used to march and demonstrate back in the day.
Some of us actually armed and educated ourselves and made change.
I don't see that anymore, but everyone is pissed off about living conditions.
You make more money on 'Bush's' watch than under 'Willie's'.
Keep talking shit while driving your expensive-ass SUV at $3 a gallon.
I dare you to trade that with living 10 years ago.
No do some damn research on a candidate and actually make change... If you dare.

But you don't hear me doe...

I got nothing...

Can you believe I have no friggin idea on what to blog about today? It's been a long weekend and I have been all up in PBS...

Watching.

The movement.

I'm also working on corresponding with a sister that asked me a few questions that I must answer.

I'll post something tomorrow, and change that profile pic.

Humble Pie

Today was my last full day of volunteering here at the hospital.

I'm not done volunteering, but I have officially pulled myself out of the trucking game, and it has been 5 months now that I've been sitting in one place. I wrote, recorded some (still not finished and I'm a little disappointed bout' that) and redirected my focus on things that matter in getting me where I want to be.

It's not a yearly thing, but I have some goals to accomplish in 2007.

I am going to Africa. I need about $7500 to be straight comfortable for the months I'll be gone. I really need about $12k to make it work after I return. If I follow thru with my publishing thing and the CD, then seventy five hundred should be fine. I am planning a trip to Tanzania via Kenya (Kilimanjaro is the highest point on the continent of Africa = top of the world, ma!) and I should be there for about 4 to 6 months. I need to be all up in it to learn and be humbled. I also want to continue volunteering and doing some to make change.

I am releasing 2 CDs in 2007. Obviously, I still love hip hop to the point where I haven't married or had kids. CD #1 will help me spit them skills to my peoples on them streets. For all of you flavored coffee loving jazz heads, I got some heat on the poetry tip.

The book is coming, dammit! I've been harassed by two publishers all because I mentioned that I was self publishing "101 Shades Of Indigo" and was ready to go to press in about 3 months. I also get emails and subtle hints thru this here blog that I should publish my work. I hear y'all, and somebody better buy my shit other than my momma, nuff said.

I will keep blogging so I can continue to connect with y'all stank asses. Because I love you. Really, I do. I share with y'all because I stink just like the rest of you. We all have something stank to release to the universe, and if we share some of that funk we might just learn how to grow old, be happy and die with dignity and with children that actually 'get it'. I pray that I can keep reading all of you. A special shout goes to my man Keith. I got your email about a month ago and I forgot to respond. I hear you my brother and I know that whatever decisions you make will be the absolute right ones. I'm glad you're looking at everything and scrutinizing it to the fullest. I just hope we get a chance to break bread in the future and laugh at how hard we thought 'this shit' was. I'll even pick up the tab.

So, I start a new job Monday, am back on the travel board and have some big things to do to get me to do the one thing I cannot do now. Lead people. Not that I can't lead by example, but I have something amazing planned for my life after I get my training, release my work to the public and live among my cousins in the motherland, but first things first. I must get my paper together.

My motivation comes from the mother of this sister I dated back late 05. She asked me if I had my 501 3 (c) together after hearing me detail my plans to do a few things in my old neighborhood. The tone of her question and the look she gave me made me feel like she couldn't trust me to give a cripple crab a crutch. I was dating her daughter and I was still suspect. I did some suspect things like not show for Thanksgiving dinner and was late in the Christmas gift giving game after totally botching up an internet order by getting charged twice and getting the gift late. My mom and sis did not want me to give the gift based on me not knowing the sister too long, and sistergirl herself was skeptical in what I could do for her anyway so it bled over to what I was willing to give when her mom posed that question to me.

The look I got was "You ain't doing a gawt damn thang!"

She wasn't right, but I failed them in honoring their family traditions, so how could I even go through with handling a charity for those that had less than me when my follow thru was faulty in some (not all) areas?

Humble thyself.

If I am successful at living without, like I have since June of last year, then I can understand how one wants to fight just to taste one ounce of clean water by helping build a water treatment facility. I already got rid of my toys and gadgets and I had to call in many a favor since I got back to Chicago in September. What if I had no resources, who would I call? I was arrogant in my detailed plan to help the hood. I was thorough with my plan to get a Christmas gift for girlie. One thing... I forgot to be there for the family gathering and that meant the most. I gotta learn to be there more often for those that need me, so I will gather up seven G's and get my ass over to where my presence is needed the most. When I bring that back to y'all, I'll be of some use to you.

But first I gotta get this paper
And my passport
And some spending cash
And my inoculations
And a GSM phone (Yo Ep, engineering degree and MCSE+Cisco Certs... That's why I chose the iPhone - quad band AND a flash drive in Africa son!)
And a grant writer so when I get back...

Have a good weekend y'all... I'm getting boring again

Hassan Versus The Voices Pt 1

So this one time when I was grown but not a man, I was fat. I mean straight overweight. I went from eating a healthy army meal to at least 8 pieces of chicken and 3 liters of soda a day. And that was just one food group. I had a girlfriend that was miserable. I knew that she was unsatisfied with her life and my bloated ass made it no better.

Misery needs company.

Every morning I woke up, got dressed and went to work. Had big lunches and spent money on fly ass clothes. Had friends that went out with us and we ate, drank and was merry. We did everything together. It was fun, they were miserable too. Hell, they didn't even belong together.

I had bloated over 400 pounds but I carried it like I was 350. It was no problem to be me. I had friends, a woman and money so what was the fuss? There was no fuss until my main man DJ MorninMan got married to the love of his life. That's when I realized that even though I got the bomb on the in-house, this woman would never become my wife.

Did you know that she didn't even like me?

Word is born, son. This lil chica was just playing out the string, waiting for the end to come, though she never wanted to press the panic button herself, she knew that one day I would just snap... And end it all.

And then I lost my job. Okay, I quit and went somewhere else and lost the downtown hustling privileges one gets when he works with the true players in downtown Chicago. I was relocated all the way out near the airport, so no more seeing a plethora of blazing beauties on the regular.

The money was fine, but it wasn't like the money from the old job. Our friends started having problems when they were away from us. They only started hanging around more to keep from arguing with each other. We would just have fun drinking and going to karaoke. Me and the sister from the other couple used to have these heart to heart talks and thangs. We wanted to switch partners because we believed that my girl and her guy were perfect for each other seeing as we saw them as deadbeats.

The nerve.

Then that one day came. I got fed up in being in a one sided relationship, hated my position and hated egging on my girl and my homeboy in that couple that hang out with us.

We deserved more.

I didn't know how to get it.

Maybe I did, but that meant...


Yep. She had to go. They did too. Job did as well. How would I live? Where would I go? Who would love my broke ass?

Shit.

The cost of making change definitely outweighed reasons to stay. I didn't want to be lonely and struggling. I never wanted to be in a destitute situation. I didn't want to make a mistake like getting rid of the people that could help me out financially if I started down this road of doing things for self. I had already lost weight and got down to about 330. The weight got scared off because of the diabetes thing but I knew that lounging around 350 wasn't enough. I was still unhealthy and needed insulin to get by. All of a sudden, like in a split second, the relationship ended with sistergirl after damn near a decade and a half. I found a place to stay that cultivated my artistic side. I found a new job and gained a best friend out of the deal. I started dating a personal trainer and we moved in with each other. How did I do this and so quickly?

That's a secret that I'm willing to share with some, not all.

The first thing I did was change my internal dialogue. How I spoke to myself determined the course of my day, matter of fact it controls one's life. I knew that a long time ago when I said that "This is going to be a shitty day", 'shit' happened. Seriously, I would steer myself right into the biggest shitpile... You should have seen me back then. Why is it so natural to talk yourself into being surrounded with bullshit? Is there comfort in chaos? My brain functioned properly, All my chubby fingers and toes worked. I had been given and was taught how to maximize my common sense. I had faith in the Creator and knew that gifts had been placed in my path for me to succeed, but why didn't I do what was best for me? Why couldn't do right by myself?

Because I talked myself out of all of that stuff.

A mentor told me to write down all of the stuff my 'little voices' told me when I was able to hear them. Like a bad Steve Martin movie, at some point, I started to hear all of these different voices during given situations. Sometimes I was a master ventriloquist doing new voices and sabotaging my own shit. When I was shopping, one voice told me that I wasn't worthy of me spending money on me, even though I worked hard for my loot and was deserving. Other times when a sister was giving the big man some rhythm, a little voice would tell me I was too fat to even have her extend the courtesy even though she was right there... Extending courtesy.

My little voices were telling me to stay in the house, not do anything and just clam up because I wasn't shit. I was a fat, miserable lonely man incapable of making things happen because I micromanage everything and overconsume all the time. Why were my voices telling me these things? How come when I was getting ready to do the do my little voice would throw that sexual assault thing at me? Why is it when I felt bad my little voice told me to eat my problems away, even though I was insulin dependent at the time and overeating would blowuptuate my blood sugars sending me to the hospital? Why did my little voice tell me that I was ugly and not worthy to be loved every time I brushed my crooked teeth? That my eyes were too big? That taking out another student loan to go back to school was not only a waste of time but would make my big, black, Professor Klump looking ass (I shole' looked like him too) overqualified and under appreciated in whatever job I took? Why did they tell me to stop writing music?

And why when I asked my little voices why they lived to sabotage me, they blamed their reasons on shit that happened from way back when?

They told me they were scared.

Fear of the unknown is the major reason a whole bunch of isms' are prevalent in society today. Being in fear I learned, is a matter of choice. I learned this over time: If I chose to live in fear, then I'm wasting time The Creator has given me to make change and touch others. Why else would I still be here? I lived in a disfunctional black family with an alcoholic as the matriarch. I got touched as a kid. My dad drank himself into a cocaine addiction and then my mother left him, leaving my little brother and sister fatherless from the late 80's to early 90's (the time I was in the military). I survived alcoholism after I enlisted into the service during wartime. I survived growing up on the streets in one of the most violent neighborhoods in America and came out unscathed. I got a chance to travel the globe and live in other countries, not for a few months or for vacation time, but for years. I beat a few scares with growths in my body and with diabetes and reconstruction of 2 major bodyparts and after all of that, I am damn near ideal weight, off of insulin and don't even have a limp after having my knee rebuilt.

What can I be scared of now?

And why when I asked my voices that shit did they gang up on me and started to close in?

Listen To Yourself...

Do you hear that?

What in the hell did you just say?

Why do you speak to yourself like that?


If you had the chance to give yourself a pep talk each morning, you know, that time in which you're looking into the mirror right before you leave the house. You know, the self-sexy check?

Riiight.

Okay, so if you had a chance to give yourself that talk, what would you say?


(stolen from LadyLee)

*crickets*


Okay, so why does the answer to my question differ from the one you already give yourself now?

Time to change your internal dialouge, eh?



More to come on this... We gotta talk, fam.

I must have one...

June 2007, Apple iPhone

And now, back to your life.

How Simple Is It?

It’s not the fact that I feel like I’ve mastered the art of moving forward, It’s the fact that some folks either don’t understand or have never been taught how to and find it strange when I say that I’ve moved on from detrimental things.

Somewhere in-between the time I moved to the most violent neighborhood in Chicago in my teens (and participating and witnessing a lot of said violence) to getting an apartment after spending a few months homeless and bouncing around back in 96 (and finally giving in to the point where I had to ask strangers for money - begging for change is the most humbling thing I've ever had to do. It also changed my spirit, I'll explain one day) I learned how to find the reason I had a hang up, realized that it held me back, understood the how behind it and was able to get over it and move forward.

I realize and respect that sometimes there is an event or a series of them that happen in a person’s life. I also know that these events can be abusive, abrupt or disconnecting and happens in a flash, leaving someone feeling helpless and without merit or value. I also know that it’s hard to understand how and why these things happen to us, especially if we’re young or are in a vulnerable position as an adult. Most times if we’ve been affected by something, some event or someone we search out the reasons why once we feel strong enough to want to know or we do worse… We suppress it.

I don’t know where it came from. Some folks have an issue with how simple it is for me to process an event or bad circumstance like a break-up or separation from a person, death or being laid off or released from a job, realize the goodness in it and then just let it go and move on. I have an answer, but some folks just can’t believe the answer is this simple:

I am not my job.

It was not my fault.

It happened to me, but it didn’t take me away from ME or the universe, cause I’m still breathing

I made a mistake and now I’ll correct it. (if that applies)

I am still alive and free. Why should I let something from the past define me regardless of what it is or from whom?

I am not perfect. I do know that as long as I keep waking up each morning (on the nights that I do sleep) I have the right to be happy and nothing will stand in my way.

In 1977, I was sexually assaulted by a deaf-mute teacher’s assistant while on a field trip. We were camping and he woke me up in the middle of the night, took me to the shower facilities and proceeded to bathe me and fondle my genitalia. He did not rape me or penetrate my person but it made me wonder about why grown folks were so curious about having sex at an early age.

A long time ago I confronted that man and he basically said that he couldn’t remember. We did discuss if he had a fascination with boys and his demeanor showed me that he did. That explained it for me, I understood that it wasn’t my fault, accepted the fact that karma had already gotten the best of this sick individual who abused my trust and got over it. It was a simple process for me. I know that worse things have happened to others and it might not be as easy to be as forthcoming, but I know that one can overcome anything if the right question is asked.

You are the answer.

Just ask the right question.

Once you understand the question, you have the sum of all of its parts, like a math problem.

It is then easier to know how the (math) problem was formulated when all the parts are there for you to see.

You deserve to be happy but you must put yourself in the place of happy in order to experience it. Nothing from the past or present, nothing that someone either said or did to you should hold you back from being in that happy place. Even if you never have the nerve or the opportunity to face your fears or question your oppressor(s), you still deserve to be free of all things that restrict you from being you.

You are still here for a reason.

You still have time but the clock is running.

You still have the chance to drop the baggage and jump in… The water is warm.

I know this. This is the reason nothing or no one can keep me from being happy. I wish I could better express it to make it easier to understand. I want to be happy with you but you have to get here so we can be in a state of happy together.

Shit, is the game on yet?

... And we're back! Whatever.

Hello.

I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Hassan, and I am a writer and performing artist. I am currently finishing and editing what will be my first published piece of literary work as well as recording hip hop and spoken word cuts for different projects.

I am approaching my 37th flight thru the universe.

I am not christian, nor am I a pagan. I believe in a higher being but the concept of 'God' is foreign to me.

I am unmarried, have no children and am a loner in most things in life. I like being alone. I am very discliplined in my actions, only doing things that are necessary for me and me alone. I even eat only what my body needs as opposed to failing myself in poisoning it with what society tells me what it wants.

I am apologetically conservative. I do not wish liberals harm (I grew up in a liberal household), I just wish one would earn what they receive and create solutions on keeping it.

I am a veteran of the armed forces, but can no longer support the current war. I do understand from living abroad that if we weren't the bullies on the block we would not be able to live 'free' in America.

I also believe that the black man and woman live in a self imposed blanket of hatred (not to sound redundant) of self. It is mental and spiritual and unless it is totally dropped from our agenda, our people will surely die... As in extinction because we are not really free.

Enough about me, I just thought to get that out of the way seeing as there are a bunch of new neighbors here on the block...

I won't bore you (or myself for that matter) with age old tales of drunkenness and mindless fodder about who passed out and got carried out of the club on New Year's Eve because nothing happened in my neighborhood.

I won't hit you with some pledge or vow do do different shit in the so-called new year either because I am already in control of my destiny, always have been and I constantly plot and strategize on the regular to make sure global domination happens on my time frame.

And it will, thank you.

I will say that I enjoyed the quiet and comfort of being alone during the downtime and wish that I could have more time like it in the coming months. I really had time to create.

I walked away from the music project for a minute, my partner DJ MorninMan had a gaggle of gigs but I did connect with 2 new beatmakers that might get a chance to get in on the latter part of crafting the album. I've never changed a drum track in the end stages of production but we need a little help in the beats department, I really want the CD to bang out, you know?

As far as the writing goes... I'm writing and might feel the need to share as I usually do in the near future. I'm trying to crank out this new piece called "Put Some Stank On It" and it is really doing a number on me right now. I don't have writer's block, I just need to get all the nasty out before I call it done on this piece. I need to get some, that's all and then I'll be fine.

I ain't mad that a lot of y'all straight did the damn thing over the holiday, leaving me with no good material to read (and no pics, mind you) and I hope all of y'all get back on the bicycle and pedal on. I hope you guys still take blogging seriously as I do in the 2007, we need to communicate more than ever as time gets shorter, we get older and peer to peer activism gets more regular.

It's time we begin to rally around who we're going to support in future elections, have real talk about re-investment (financial and otherwise) in the hood and if this piece of technology is worth something when it comes to relationships.

This post is boring... I'll stop now.

Hassan was here... And he blogged today!

From my brother Herchell, my sister Heather, brother Alonzo and myself...

I just wanted to say that I blogged on the last day of the so-called year.

And Happy New Year... Dammit.

Whatever.

So Glad This Year Is Ending... Aren't You?

So I'm at target early Thursday afternoon. Saw a few cats from the group 'Pretty Ricky' up in there. There is a new years concert and they must be staying at one of the hotels around the stadium. Yep, target is right next to the Allstate Arena (capacity 19,000).

I get my generic crystal lite stuff and wander to an open register. There isn't one. A sister comes to an empty register, turns on the light and yells out to me; "Dread! I'm open baby."

Word is born.

So why when I get to the register she runs away to get a camera phone pic and an autograph from the Pretty Ricky cats, leaving us hanging for 7 minutes?

Did I mention she was in her thirties?

And had the nerve to come back and tell the long ass line that she didn't mean to keep us waiting?

Lying stank-grown-ass heifer.



But that wasn't the half, guess what happened later that day?




So I'm at the big ass lie-bury downtown, right and I gotta go.

Real bad.

I know that this spot takes care if its patrons seeing that the place is a showcase here in the city and it hold the name of a great man. And they got auto plastic seat covers. So I go to ask the security guard exactly where they are on the floor I was on and the adventure begins...

I followed his finger to the direction of the bathroom and busted in there. I heard someone chuckle, but I paid them no mind. I went to the end stall and took off my overcoat and sport coat (yes, I do it like that) and copped a squat. I even crushed the duck if you know what I mean...

More laughter and then:

"Girl, I got go"

WHAT!?!

I peeped the feet of the person in the next stall. Dammit...

Heels.

I am trapped in the end stall of the women's bathoom facility in the middle of a real bad number two. I was there for 45 minutes.


and now for a year-ending BLACKISM:



How will James Brown’s death affect Hip-Hop?

KRS-One:
James Brown is the Grandfather of Hip-Hop, of course recognizing Kool Herc as the father. You’re talking to a 25 year theologian, and Christ is my s**t. Jesus is my s**t, that’s my n***a! [Laughs] This guy, James Brown, dying on Christmas is very symbolic. Dying on Christmas, we know God is looking at us! We established right here and now. According to Christian tradition, James Brown dying on Jesus’ birthday means that Hip-Hop starts today. If you ask me, I think we should start Hip-Hop over on every Christmas. James Brown dying on Christmas, Lord have mercy! We have the opportunity, right now, to take Christmas [to share a federal holiday for Hip-Hop]. We can use federal law to our advantage. James Brown dying on Christmas Day means that for us, we don’t have to celebrate Christmas no more, that’s over! That “White Christmas” bulls**t is over! Jesus wasn’t born on Christmas, we know that’s a lie now. Christmas has nothing to do with the birth of the Christ, much less gift-giving, commercialism, and consumerism. Now, Hip-Hop has a chance to reestablish what Christmas really about. Christmas is about the birth of the Christ within yourself. You celebrate Christmas and you don’t say, “Jesus is born on this day,” – the ancient reason is Christ is born in you! God is born in you for another year. James Brown passing on Christmas could mean the birth of Soul in you. He is the Godfather of Soul – not Pop, not R&B, not Rock, not Blues, not Jazz – Soul music!

We should print the lyrics of “Say It Loud (I’m Black and I’m Proud)” and we should say it every Christmas. [KRS recites lyrics] He summed up the entire Black struggle. James Brown dying on Christ’s birthday shows not only who he was – Christ returned – but that Hip-Hop has a chance, politically, to take a day. Let’s celebrate James Brown! Hip-Hoppers celebrate the birth of their Soul, the birth of their Christ, the birth of their nature. Every Christmas, we gonna play James Brown records. All that White Jesus stuff is over! Matter of fact, I’m gonna call James Brown “James Brown the Christ.” When you look at Jesus, look at James Brown. Why wouldn’t you? The first painting of Jesus – the White man with long flowing hair is not what Jesus looked like – we know this. But we accept the lie out of habit, and it’s destroying us. The Vatican knows this! The Vatican says Jesus could be any color, any faith. Why not James Brown? Hip-Hoppers could say “James the Christ.” Further, Lord have mercy, in The Bible James was the brother of Christ. Hip-Hop could do this so sweetly, and take a federal holiday for itself, establishing what Christmas really means.

There is nobody who is more influential to Hip-Hop than James Brown. Kool Herc said that James Brown was the A-1 b-boy, the first MC, the first DJ – ‘cause he had two drummers. The drummer was what the turntable was today. When one finished playing, the other’d start, and sometimes they’d play together! Tell me this man is not the Christ! Tell me this man is not is Hip-Hop, straight up! James Brown is our artistic father. We all sample from him. This is a day where we exchange gifts. The gift exchanged with us from James was our culture. He freely gave his music to our culture. To me, that brings tears to my eyes! That’s some god s**t. That’s the lord and savior. On December 25th, James Brown gives the gift of himself to his children. What’s the gift we should be givin’ back? We should be givin’ back his request. “These record companies stole from me, get it back.” Get it back, children. There should be a James Brown Soul Museum, not a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. James Brown.

Happy New Year, I guess

She made me cry...

I went to see this movie today all by myself.

Got my money right, bought a ticket and got a good seat. It was half crowded, but I was able to keep my coat on the seat next to me. I fielded 3 calls and set up an interview with a possible publicist before the flick came on.

An hour in, I cried.

That's right, Bru'man cried Martin.

And it had nothing to do with a bunch or frigedators with glass doors that I could not open.

It was Jennifer.


Jennifer, oh Jenny.

I ain't the one all up in award show hype, but I really hope she wins everything she gets nominated for.

She was that damn good.

Hey Julia...

Sprinkle Your Spice On My Meat

Peace and blessings, fam.

I'm still in Chicago for the moment, prepping what seems to be my swan song to the City Of Wind. I feel good and things aren't going as planned, but I still breathe and get a chance to fuss and rant about, so things are good enough.

It's not even cold here, and there will be no white xmas for those concerned and that's fine with me. As long as I have to be here I would rather it not snow for my sake. I like the regularity traffic brings in the closing of 2006

I was going to do one of those year end memes, but I think I'll wait til next week. Let's get the 'pagan tree celebration of commercialism' and of course all the holiday fakeness out of the way and get to the 'obligatory year-end binge drinking weekend' and let's get that here stat. As I was text messaged from someone special a day ago:

"Drinking is fun"

*crickets*

And knowing is half the battle. (Hey LadyLee! *waving*)

So some oldgirls birthdays came up and I believe by now y'all know that this means absolutely nothing to me (birthdays, that is) but talking to certain folks, you can't help but get caught up in the hoopla in some manner, so I composed this ditty over a cup of green tea a few moments ago as I play receptionist here at the hospital. Per a conversation I had, I did say that I'd title said ditty appropriately and like I also said: "y'all ain't old, y'all are just seasoned" and I mean that with all of my heart.

And that's the reason I chase after older women. And use Lawry's.

So without further adieu, here is my ode to older women and that funk y'all emanate that makes me want to help you out with that whole enhanced sex drive thingee that much more than women my age I give you:


Sprinkle Your Spice On My Meat

All the boys want you woman
because you are seasoned
Every man wants to learn how to handle your spice
without antacids or a smidgen of ginger
Some cats just want to marinate in your juices
so they can have a little flavor

I just want you to tenderize my meat.

I need to shave a little of your allspice off in my favorite dish
Want to feel the sensation of your sweet and salty
all on my tongue
Need you to help keep my foodstuffs fresh
cause' I'm a little aged myself
and I just can't sit

Still.

You ain't old, oldgirl
You just got more seasoning than the rest

Time has slowed down specifically for you
Age has blessed you with many a thing firm and tight
Days come to you and check in to see
when the best time it is to set the sun

You are a pro at handling the passage of all things
in a moment due to your secret herbs and spices
Every man wants a drop of that tangy juice
made better in the assemblage of moments

The young boys run faster to get caught up in your fragrance
I relish being in your radiance
I savor the sweet kisses of zest, zip and tang
When you cook the aroma is exhilarating and full of gusto

I get caught up in your piquancy
you make moments unbland and flavorful

Do me this favor

Turn back time for a moment
remember when it was fun to be young
and come to me

Twist that grinder and give me the fine powder
Shake that ass and sprinkle some of that spice on my meat
Treat me like the young boy that left me moments ago

knead me woman, mold and shape me
with your seasoning
Let me simmer in your sauce
and gain favor and flavor in your good graces

I want it to fall off the bone

All the boys want you woman
because you are seasoned
I want you because we blend together well on a plate
Enough to feed a family
cause your spice gets it all swole
giving you more bang for your buck and more than a mouthful
Shit, you know how I feel about a feast
So let me lick your plate clean to say the least

And that bowl too.

Tenderize me woman...

Help me beat my meat
Gone head' girl, sprinkle a little bit of your spice on it
You're that secret ingredient that'll last a lifetime
Not a whole lot, just a pinch or two
That'll will do with you
Just a little bit makes that spicy dish
that makes all the young boys wish

For firsts

To hell with seconds
That's why they chase after you
you are seasoned

All you got to do is sprinkle it in and stir the pot

You'll have me licking lips and fingertips
And using a cloth napkin.
And I ain't no spring chicken either

2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

Breathing Your Air, A Slice Of Pie and A Jalapeño

I hate you for doing this to me.

I can't breathe without you all up in my face
expelling oxygen you've used cause' mine
doesn't seem so fresh

Every time I close my eyes to rejuvenate and rest
you're right up under my eyelids
causing me to toss and turn
reaching to grasp
the escaping thought that is you

It's cool because my arm is draped around you
securing your skin against mine
in the middle of the night keeping me warm

And I get that repeated chance to press up against your booty

For breakfast I need you
to scramble my eggs

For lunch I'm always late
coming back from coming back...

For dinner it's always a thigh or a leg
maybe I'll get lucky and get a spicy combo meal
with a breast tonight

and a jalapeño

and some mashed potatoes

and some dirty rice.

You know I likes the dirty rice

For desert, I must always have your pie
At times I just want to dive right in face first
just plowing and wading through
with my tongue and lips swallowing you whole

It ain’t right to feast without having you dripping from my chin

It's like I'm addicted and I'm not sure
if I foresee a cure

What happens if I wane myself of you?

Will I be able to function properly?
How can I get dressed?
I mean, who will I get dressed for?

What will I eat?

How will I breathe?

Will I ever be able to enjoy desert the same way again?

Yeah, face first... I know, I know

Don't make me answer those questions
just shut up and let me hate you

Right after I get done with this meal

And take my nap

And breathe

Then I'll hate you for doing this to me
I'll just need one more slice of pie.

Can I eat some of your pie?

copyright 2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo