I’m Fucked Up.

I’m in the library sitting two seats down from a young man who is talking to himself.  I admire him so much because he just doesn’t give a shit.  Run-on sentences of gibberish and life experiences flowing like a careless river on a steep hill on the countryside of a distant land.  I smiled to myself because if this young man were to walk over to me and interrupt my thought process and say, “Hey dread, I know you may think I’m crazy, but I ain’t got no worries,” without a doubt I would’ve looked wildly at him and simply…believed him. I started this blog with no insight as to what I’d be talking about, so I decided to talk about whatever comes to mind.  I’m fucked up.  I’m fucked up bout life and everything within me wants to keep living it, but I have my reservations…The two personalities that my zodiac describes seems to battle within me on a daily basis and it’s quite hilarious to feel the changes as they occur.  I turned 30 on June 12th and I still feel like I’m 16 years old.  My lil sis and I have this joke that we’ve been running for years going back and forth about when we’re going to start feeling like adults. Lol I’m always like, I pay bills like an adult, I make my own decisions, I’m responsible and gunning to achieve my goals, but I don’t know what it feels like to be an adult.  Am I not serious enough? How will I know?

I don’t want life to pass me by while I’m still trying to figure out how to live it.  I’m breathing, I’m laughing, I’m writing, thinking, driving, eating, sleeping, working, and…something’s missing.  Things got a lil easier in my life when I stopped being so critical about everything but I still have my days.  I dropped all the dead weight and was left with clear skies, lonely nights, and a hopeful horizon of dreams…I don’t put tabs on situations that seem familiar anymore because that would make me judgmental, but I’m still skeptical…it’s only right.  I used to say life ain’t easy, but it wasn’t life that was giving me a hard time…it was me…my own mind kept me captive.  I blame Barney & Friends for planting seeds in my little intellect to have a vast imagination when I was a youngin.’ LOL I really took that to heart.

On my 30th birthday I made a pact to myself to treat me better…that’s it. I’m fucked up…fucked up about life and all I want to do is continue living…how will I know if I’m living? When I know longer have to ask anymore I suppose…Love and light…

~The Lyricist

#TRIBE

That’s Some Selfish Shit.

I told him I was lacking inspiration. I had nothing to write about even though I had everything to write about.  Nothing in my mind was good enough to be put on paper because I wasn’t satisfied with my life.  I was unsettled and ungrateful.  Here I was overlooking the beautiful transformation that I asked my creator for because it wasn’t wrapped in a pretty package.  I was taking my own life for granted because it wasn’t bestowed on me in the way that I ordered it. And if it were given to me in that manner I wouldn’t be living it at all…I’d still be taking it for granted.  My inspiration is my hardship and in the bellow of everything that I don’t understand right away.

I looked myself in the mirror trying to figure out what in the hell am I supposed to be doing? Writing pissed me off, not writing pissed me off, people pissed me off, and I pissed me off for being pissed off in the 1st place.  I was annoyed with life because I was annoyed with me for not knowing what to do.  The woman with all the answers for everyone else couldn’t find one answer for herself.  Indecisive. Undecided because no answer was good enough for me so doing nothing seemed like the easiest thing to do…which worked out to be most spiritually fatal… doing nothing.  That’s some selfish shit. Forgetting myself because I didn’t know what to do with myself lol and in turn I was making myself miserable.  Change requires a whole lot of soul searching and self realization.  It requires facing the facts…aka facing the truth.

Inspiration is in everything…it’s in the melody of my 7am alarm entitled, “Live Life Cherokee!” It’s within the awkward silence of a much needed conversation between two strangers, within the hazy fog of weed smoke exhaled by a tight knit of homies on a Sunday morning, within a shrilling cry for help to the creator for deliverance, within the 6th bar of the 2nd verse to a song with no chorus, within the front row of a rowdy crowd in a rundown club with no liquor license lol, within a mother’s prayer, a father’s neglect, a friend’s lack of loyalty, within a new flame, within a distant memory… It’s everywhere. 🙂

~The Lyricist

#TRIBE

Let’s Chill…

I hate stop signs. They micromanage the way how I drive forcing me to comply with the law of that particular road on that particular street, as if I don’t have shyt to do. I’m working on my patience though so lately stop signs have been more therapeutic than annoying and pushy. Weird right? I know…but I’m pretty sure I’m not alone, and even if I were, it wouldn’t matter either way because it’s my honest feeling. Not only that, my therapist said I’m making hella progress, he’s the best in Chicago.  Yesterday, I pulled up to the 4-way intersection on 4th and Caliby.  I pulled up 1st, a beige Camry pulled up to the stop on my left facing West and then a black Infinity truck pulled up facing me to head South.  Usually I’d roll my eyes at the stop sign, take a deep breath, and then hope that the whips that came to their complete stops at their perspective times have responsible drivers who are familiar with the road basics to steer clear of my shyt. Then, I’d release a series of mental obscenities yelling like a crazy person with fiery, flaming eyes for the retard who pulled up 1st to quit stalling & go, lol but as usual I’m a work in progress working on my patience, so instead, I grinned to myself at the thought of how I used to be.  As I slowly pulled off to head North, I glanced over at the Infinity truck as it was passing by because it was loud and there was a lot of movement in the driver’s seat.  So as I’m staring this truck down, I’m not realizing that I’m giving a major impression that I give a damn.  I mean damn, can a sistah be curious? Anyway, my eyes locked with the driver who was belting out rap lyrics at the top of his lungs. I couldn’t make out the words, but the song was rather aggressive and he was living proof that evictions aren’t the only thing that moves people, music does too.

As I pull my glance away from him to keep going in my direction, he yells, “Beautiful!!” I smiled and kept driving. My gas tank was on E and the next gas station was a mile away. The whole way there I’m chanting, “Please don’t break down, I love you baby, I know this ain’t right not feeding you on time and I’m sorry, Please don’t break down, I’ll get you high grade this time..” Miraculously, I make it to the gas station. As I’m getting out of my vehicle I see the black Infinity pull in from the same direction that I just came from and I’m thinking to myself, “This man done turned around, I hope he ain’t checking for me, I’m not in the mood.” I wanted to pay with my card at the pump, but I didn’t want to give this man easy access to a conversation that would potentially piss him off and annoy me at the same time.  So, I briskly walked into the gas station and as the door closed slowly behind me, the man caught it. My heart sank. It’s my turn in line, so I ask for $15 on pump 3 and I leave. He comes running out behind me and says, “Hey beautiful.” I smile and say, “Hey loud mouth,” and he thought that was hilarious.  He went on to say that he saw me back at the 4-way stop and didn’t want to pass up the opportunity of possibly getting to know a cool person.  I’m usually skeptical when a man’s intellectual span is vast and sharp and his physical get-up reeks ignorant and lawless.  It gives the direct impression that he knows better but isn’t doing better, but what do I know he could be within the midst of his transition.

We talked for a little while, he inquired about my living situation, employment, if I had kids, a boyfriend and all of that. He then concludes our conversation with, “You wanna chill later?” I tell him that I’m not sure because I may have something else to do. He asks for my #, I instead take his # and told him that I’d call him if I free up.  He was a decent dude.

My experiences with men wanting to chill has been so trivial that I turned it into a game. The game is to see how far off we are? In my mind, and deep down in my heart when a man asks me to chill with him, the 1st thought that I usually get is that we’re going to vibe n get something to eat or we’re going to studio vibe if he’s into music, or we’re going to go somewhere lowkey that is NOT my or his house.  (At least not the 1st few times around). In the mind of a man, let’s chill could mean several things as well, depending on the approach and how long you’ve been talking before the 2 words are mentioned, and all kind of other shyt.  When you look at how the media portrays love to be, placing it hand-in-hand with consensual sex, making it seem as though it’s required to have a good time and to solidify loyalty, and not to mention how key rappers impose ignorant innuendos on women implying that if you ain’t fukn don’t even bother type mentality.  It causes a social rift in the opposing sexes, because now women are lowering their standards in hopes of finding love and men are jumping over that standard wall into the tight, wet, warm caress of delusional bliss all taking place while we’re just…chillin.

I’m guilty as hell for accepting mediocre company just to evade the very idea of being alone.  So I know 1st hand from my own experience what it’s like to lower your standards to accommodate fickle situations.  It’s a sign that self-love is absent. When you love yourself you put standards in place for people to abide by so they’d be aware of what it takes to secure a place in your life. They’re also in place to release people from your life in the name of your very own sanity.  It’s not you being too strict or a prick or even my least favorite word these days…a bitch.  Setting standards for yourself is a supplementary rib cage for your heart.  I love chilling…most days I spend them alone, chilling on the beach, chilling with my journal..chilling with my thoughts…chilling with a drink…my music..and I even have my days when I chill with a close friend.

 Everyone in life owns a heart…some people have been hurt and neglected so badly that the only time they feel their heart in their chest is when they’re hurting other people…because intoxicated love is all they know. Crazy ain’t it? That a person will deliberately hurt you to generate some kind of feeling of remorse within themself just to treat you better… but you wanna chill though? All I’m saying is, take the time to understand where you stand in your own life…know what you stand for.  Make sure that your happiness has a home within the things that you love and cherish already before you take an innocent opportunity…to chill.

~The Lyricist
#TRIBE

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a man…”

You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a man…strong, handsome, and serious. The minute I walk in the room, you smile so genuinely…it’s more like you’re blushing, I’m still trying to take it all in.  I love the way how you call me in the middle of the day to tell me something silly that happened to you a few moments before your call… then I tell you it’s funny that you called because I was just thinking of you…we laugh…”I gotta studio session later King & I want you to slide with me, it’s a track about love and I want to feel your energy in the booth…” As always you say, “I’ll go wherever you want me to go…pressha or mid?” I choose mid and you end the call by saying, “Love you Juliet…” and I say, “…so cliche…lol..love you too Romeo…” *call ends*

Our connection is so decent. I’d go lay on the roof of my car at 1am in the morning to stargaze, soon after you’d come out and sit on the trunk to smoke and sit in silence with me…you understand me.  You look back and say, “You hungry…?”  I sit up and say, “You hungry huh? lol Yeah I’m hungry man…”  So we get in the whip and slide…it doesn’t take much effort to do what we do, it suits us.  It’s 1:20 am & your phone rings, I glance at you slyly and snuggle under you as you steer the whip…I say, “Don’t answer it.” You look at me with a mimicking grin and we keep on sliding.  I trust you so much, you add to my happiness, and I’m not intimidated by things that don’t concern me…you know this.  You’re my best friend…you feel more like my homie than my lover and damn I love this feeling.  I doze off a little bit and then wake up in my living room with my pen and pad on  my chest…I look at the first line of the page & it reads, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a man…strong, handsome, and serious.” I lay back & smile…I know  you’re out there King…I know you are…

~The Lyricist

#TRIBE

“It’s True…”

“It’s True…”.

“It’s True…”

Earlier today I was sitting in solitude with my thoughts trying to come up with a new venture to monetize…while trying to come up with the ideas for the matter, I started thinking about what the money would solve. I thought about my life and how as little as $5,000 would make it better…I thought about my mama and how I’d help her and how we’d humbly laugh while basking in our sudden yet simple change of fate, even though the amount was so small. I started to write a couple bars on a new joint that I’d plan to call, “It’s True…” ‘Money ain’t the object of my affection/ sure would smooth my complexion/ cool brown girl smilin’ stylin’ even tho I’m wild’n/ everything I’m buying/ mama ain’t crying, kings still lying tryna comply and/ show affection and attention for little things to da lil boo/ It’s True, happiness can be bought too…” I tried to think about every and anybody who mattered to me & what I’d do for them…or not. There wasn’t much folks that came to mind…my memory is fucked any damn way so that didn’t help at all, but for the most part the list was short.

I love her to pieces… #TRIBE

When I got home, I started digging through a box of old items looking for an item that I believed would help me in my newest venture…I won’t go into detail on what the item was to reserve the integrity & exclusivity of the new project, but I found something else…3 watches.  I sat on the floor in my closet for about 20 minutes looking at each watch as if to be stuck in a deep trance…one that tied me to the significance of these items.  My eyes welled with tears because there’s so many beautiful stories tied to my history that became distant artifacts in boxes that I may never find due to taking time for granted.  I sat there thinking about my ol’ girl…and how she loved me unconditionally…how she loved me when I was rebellious…how she defended me…how she cared for me…how she made sacrifices for me…the central headquarters of my unconditional love.  No matter what we were going through when I was a child, my happiness always came first to my mama…and now I sat there looking at the 3 watches…3 reminders…past, present, & future…A frigid reminder that I gotta keep trying to become a better person…my ol’ girl ain’t the same lady she was 16 years ago when she bought the 1st watch for me…she was younger…more durable, and quick…with time she aged like fine wine and reminds me of my late grandmother everyday. I teared up because she looks to me now the way I looked to her 16 years ago…and I know with everything that I’m trying to accomplish in my life right now, it makes me a bit short and impatient…even in the midst of promoting love and light…patience & virtue…I’m not patient enough with her…and it hurt me. Damn, I’m trying to change for the better…dealing with my ol’ girl humbles me…I apologize more now…I let things go quicker now…I forgive those who hurt me, I love those who hate me, because this is all that I welcome in my spirit…it feels good…and it’s helping me to become a better person.

It’s True…three watches conjured enough memories from my past, to remind me not to take my present for granted because the future is not promised… *smiles to self*  

~The Lyricist  

#TRIBE 

Cherokee The Lyricist

The Black Halo That Hovers Me…

The Black Halo That Hovers Me….

The Black Halo That Hovers Me…

I’m at war with myself.  The things that I expect of me are so formidable and sometimes I don’t give myself a chance to accomplish these things. I take on so much.  I’m so emotional and it took me a while to understand what that really meant and to come to terms with being this way.  I don’t like labels because they keep you in a box that most would draw biased conclusions on before really understanding what makes the items in this box so unique.  What makes me different? I don’t believe that real people wake up in the morning and ask themselves, “How can I be different today?” That’s bogus.  I believe that real people follow their 1st mind…their intuition..their gut…and live on their terms..not on terms predetermined by a book they’ve read..or by what someone said the terms are supposed to be in order to be…different; They just are.  When you make an impact, I don’t believe this is something you can plan…it just kinda happens. The most tragic or beautiful accidents are due to impromptu impact aren’t they not?

I always sit and wonder about people and the way that they think.  I asked myself several times, does the rest of the world think like me? Does the rest of the world give themselves a hard time the way that I do? Do they hurt when someone they barely know is in pain? Do they want to be heard? Do they struggle with trying to uphold their purpose? And if I know what my purpose is, why is it a struggle? Shouldn’t I struggle with the things that I’m unfamiliar with? Of course not.  It’s usually the familiar things..like family & friends that make the struggle harder.  What I don’t know will hurt me…and what I do know already has.  Where do I go from here? Does the rest of the world think like this? Why the FUCK do I think so much? I have a responsibility and that’s to live the life that I’m given but sometimes it gets so hard…to the point where I myself lose touch with the whole damn point.  I suppose I’m just supposed to know.  I have a big heart…a big forgiving heart at that…I’ll do for the next before I’ll do for myself..I won’t change that.  I just wish sometimes that I can get a little help. I just wish sometimes that people would fight for me, the way that I fight for them..I hurt too. I just don’t talk about it because I hate that vulnerable feeling. I don’t want them to see me cry…I don’t want them to try to hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay…I don’t want them to think to themselves that they have to be there for me because they are my friend.  I know how I think, I know how genuine I am. I know that every move within the second of a minute is a personal decision to decide between doing good and doing evil.  I choose to do good..not because I have to, but because it just feels so much better.  I don’t want them to be there for me because they decided to do good for selfish reasons..because they had to I just can’t seem to give people that opportunity.  I’ve been hurt so much.  I live a very lonely life because of this…this is not a cry for help, this is how I maintain.  This is how I think…this is MY STRUGGLE…the pictures that I paint don’t all have daisies and sunshine in em. I got issues like everybody else. I just wish I understood why I process things the way that I do.  A part of me knows the answers to all of my questions…as the other part seems to like posing questions to confirmed answers to hurt me. I’m at war with myself. This is my scarlet letter, the Black Halo that hovers over me…my good verses evil… Black Halo…The Mixtape… July 20th

~The Lyricist

Man I gotta go.

Man I gotta go..

Man I gotta go.

As the tears roll down my face…I refuse to smile. Life did no wrong to me. It’s been pretty damn good to me actually. I put a lot of positive energy in the universe, I pray hard, even when my faith is tested and I reside on the grounds of solitude. Is my happiness living within the depths of my hope? Or in the hopes of my depth..no I’m not suicidal..so please don’t intervene. *looks down & smiles* Still trying to get my ducks in a row…most times I just wanna keep em all fucked up and let em do what they want..organized thought processing is all I need…an organized predicable life is what I’m afraid of.  My back is against the wall which indicates to me that I’m doing something right…It amazes me that my life is so much like the functionality of a used car on the road to recovery.  Every time you fix something on it, everything else falls apart around it.  I admire my struggle because it’s always something lol It’s to the point where I’d look up to the sky and I’m like, “Really God? Really though??” And simply smile & walk it off.  My purpose here is evident but my ability to sustain seems a bit…special.  I ain’t gon’ front though my heart is in pain…I don’t know if this is the after effects of  a broken heart or too many damn cigars, nowadays the effects all feel the same.  I’m still here though…living & maintaining.  I work so hard at most things…and whatever it is that doesn’t really hold much significance, I sleep on…for example, negativity & ig’nant ahh niggas. Lol It’s early & I don’t have anything deep to say, I’m not digging deep today, it’s too early… and I’m so sure of what I’m searching for.  I just need time away. It’s crazy how I can sit down with a kindred spirit & discuss the world & it’s affect on us as individuals, indulge in irrational solutions for laughs, & then finally laying back & saying absolutely nothing…entertaining silence; but cannot muster enough words to make an impressionable statement to the one that I’m slowly loving to hate.  It’s crazy how you can put your ALL in for a cause & still not produce a significant amount of an effect to inspire you to keep going.  I suppose if the benefits aren’t what we anticipated it doesn’t count as a benefit huh? I’m restless. I’m hurting. I have an obligation to me..and that’s to sustain, and it’s hard at times because it’ll be too damn easy to do just that…and deep down everyone isn’t rooting for your happiness.  Most times people don’t even give a fuck if it has absolutely nothing to do with them. Selfish. Anything that I allow myself to go through is merely to sharpen the effect of my understanding.  I try to go through most things so that I can understand them…write em down…read em…study em…let em go. My mind as you see it is in stable condition, but it’s rendering at critical mass.  What time is it? Man I gotta go. I must leave. I gotta clear it in so many ways than one.  Growth.

~The Lyricist