Posts tagged ‘The Lyricist’

The Life of the Party (Time to Go) Final Chapter

Photographer: IG @jamieblak

There were only two things that I wanted to see happen within the next couple of hours and that was for me to leave this party and get back to the comfort of my four sacred walls.  As I counted the stars, my mind drifted off as I began to think about the placement of every item in my apartment.  The brick wall in my bedroom near the window was such a comforting thought for me.  I imagined myself sitting on the window sill with the window and blinds opened exposing the gritty, black fire escape; me, smoking a fat blunt and communing with the universe about the small joys within my personal space.  I imagined that my retro record player would be belting out soothing tunes of smooth jazz as my nerves fell victim to its cunning notes and flirtatious rifts.  In the distance from way down below my apartment window, I could hear a faint noise of a woman yelling up from the street at the top of her lungs in my direction.  It sounded like the woman was yelling, “Nina! I’m back! Earth to Nina!” I put the blunt down and stuck my head out of the window to see who was yelling and ended up jumping out of my vision to see Jada standing in front of me holding a fat blunt saying, “This one’s yours.”  A big grin crept across my face like it was a slave to my glee and I snatched the blunt, “I’ma love you forever girl!” then hugged and pulled Jada down onto the couch with me.  I told her I was over this scene and that I wanted to leave sooner than later and if she was partied out as yet.  She said she’s ready too because she had another party to hit afterward and wanted to get a head start on it.  I stared at her with the WTF face and asked, “Was this a part of the original plan because I don’t remember agreeing to that part nor do I don’t wanna go.” She shot a look back at me and was like, “I knew your party pooping ass wouldn’t want to go so I’ll take you back to your car and then I’ll go by myself because it’s up our way anyway.” I then exhaled with relief.  The anxiety that was rising within me when she initially mentioned the 2nd party quickly subsided.  I decided to put the blunt Jada gave me up until I got home as a celebratory smoke session for making it through the night, I was satisfied.

I came to this party filled with ideas of everything that could possibly go wrong which had me dying inside.  I overcame the obstacle of staying home yet another night and evaded the urge to remain hostage to my anxiety.  Tonight we came and we conquered, the party was our playground in our world of freedom and fun.  I did everything that I was afraid of which was quite entertaining, but now it’s time to go home.

~The Lyricist

#TRIBE

I’ll be 18 at Midnight.

topmodelDreaming is my escape from reality.  There’s a part of me that’s on the other end of the globe exploring and experiencing and then there’s the part of me that’s still here. I spent years asking myself, “Am I a grown-up yet?” Lol What the hell does it even mean to be a grown-up? The answer to the question is never clear but I somehow managed to be categorized as such.  I remember the year I graduated from high school; I sat on the patio of my apartment staring at things until they became blurred in vision in a heroic attempt to hold on to every moment; I wanted to be so aware of the moment and its coinciding timestamp.   I was fascinated with life, in the moment.  It was as if every living thing that came into view had a chance at life for a 2nd time.  Time became so much more important to me and graduation was really a mechanism that stood for transformation.  The sky was golden, the sun rays beamed gently over the entire landscape causing me to sit in the shade with a partial squint. The breeze was warm and for the first time ever, I felt a sense of carelessness and freedom.  With graduation a day or so away and my birthday coming shortly after, all I could think of was the auspicious possibilities and this new chapter, I had mixed emotions.  I knew that once I walked across that stage and secured that diploma, everything that happened or wouldn’t happen from that point forward, would be on the account of me and me only. Truth is it was always on me but that’s a lesson that came later on in my life.

I remember the feeling that I had the night before my 18th birthday.  I remember looking at my face in the mirror and thinking; at midnight I’ll be 18 and foolishly wondering what my 18 year old face would look like. Lol I was so amazed that I was finally going to be living life on my own terms that I tried to imagine what being an adult would feel like once the clock struck midnight.  Every moment was that much more important so I was very careful to recognize every occurrence and detail within every preceding minute.  This was the last time that I would ever get to be a child, I’ll never be 17 again, and life will forever be changed at midnight.

The time came and gone, I didn’t shed any skin and I wasn’t swept off my feet and into the air by a gust of magical winds with an angelic light flow from the heavens, to be struck by the adult Gods with a lightning bolt of glory and responsibility; I simply went up a number. Astounding. Looking back from then til now, I can now see that adulthood is having an open state-of-mind.  No matter how many bills you may pay, the number of children you may have, deals closed, or money made, no matter what you may do in this life, there’s no specific event that occurs that grants you your adulthood.  It’s more so a mental transition that occurs when you become mature enough to understand your circumstances and take full responsibility for them through the good and bad.  The great news is that my inner child never died, she’s always fighting the good fight to remain relevant in my day-to-day life. Lol I’m still a big kid going through this journey with an open perspective, life is what you think it. 

 

~The Lyricist

#TRIBE

I’m a freelance human.

It’s been two years since I’ve blogged on my site.  Two years.  Let’s make a toast to consistency shall we?

So much has come and gone within this time frame and I’m so blessed to be alive and well… and aware that I fucked up.  Given that it’s been such a long stretch of time since I’ve last checked in, I’ll take the opportunity now to refresh everyone on what this blog is all about and what to look forward to in the upcoming weeks.

“Hi, I’m Cherokee, formally known as, Cherokee The Lyricist.  I’m a Hip Hop Soul artist originally from Brooklyn, NY, and raised in Ft. Lauderdale, FL.  I enjoy living my life on my terms which include but is not limited to: making music, writing, thrifting, annoying my boyfriend, avoiding major responsibilities, and sleeping on the beach, I meant, meditating on the beach.  Yes, you guessed it, I’m a liberated-spirit and pride myself on that as well.  I figured writing a blog would help me to stay connected to my tribe while also purging my mind of the continuous and at times daunting thoughts that never seem to go away unless I really need them.  I’m a freelance human.  I wander through life as a carefree butterfly pitching on the flowers in the garden of uncertainty.  (I’m really having fun with this lol)

In short, I missed  you guys.  Consistency for me has been a struggle because my mind is something that from time-to-time I lose control of, am I crazy? To society? Maybe. Am I human? To me? Sometimes. But I am sure of one thing and one thing only, and that it’s my purpose to simply, BE.  The moment I started allowing myself to simply, BE, I remembered this blog, my responsibility and my purpose.  Sometimes we try so hard to BE more and end up losing focus forgetting that we’re supposed to simply, BE.  (That sounded hella deep in my head when I thought of it, on paper not so much).

I appreciate the tribe for holding out for me, for believing in me, for encouraging me and understanding that in this life the only thing that’s certain is knowing that nothing is certain.  Expect a couple blogs a week from me, expect updates on new music and poetry from me, and expect most importantly, the unexpected. 

Love and light,

Cherokee

#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

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?

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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.

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
Release Me

…This Fight…

I’m always at odds with my thoughts..you know me…they will never settle.  I tend to tell myself white lies to treat the fragile feelings with care. That’s what white lies are for right? To protect you in a coy way from the truth… “…I’m okay,” is what I’d say just to shift the spotlight from where I stand which seems to be center stage of my immediate world’s uncanny scrutiny.  So strange…it’s so strange how everything can move at a pace that you can never really seem to get used to, but always somehow manage to keep up. The pace is mine.  I’m trying to impress me, take care of me, and love me unconditionally; In doing that it drives me fucking insane.  I’m so hard to please, easily amused, and unsatisfied.  If I can only present an admit one ticket to the admissions counter of my soul to validate my existence…and that miserable bitch behind the counter..ugh…if she would only accept the funds that I have right now, I mean damn I worked for it. I just wanna jump over the counter and shove it down her throat and gag her until she regurgitates..and maybe THEN at that point she’d admit me into the establishment…for all I truly want is to be established. 

I’m at war with me because I expect so much of me and I know my capabilities but I always find myself 2nd guessing em. I take a step forward, I never look back, but it’s leery. I am the epiphany of a work in progress. You know that feeling that you get after chugging a Red Bull? No, not a warm one…an ice cold Red Bull..niacin filled wet beads slithering in unison on the surface of your tongue, down your throat, into your esophagus coolly making its way to your tummy…that energized feeling…a feeling of rejuvenation…a spurt of happiness and motivation in a can…that’s how I feel daily…but without the caffeine kick…I feel this constant urge to produce..to attain..to plan…to work….to..oh God it’s just an unsettled feeling with a never-ending boost of ambition. Yeah…that’s what it is. Is this what the road to success is like? You work until you’re blue in the face and with each step that you take that seems as if to be in vain, puts your hope reservoir in a state of disbelief and alarm. I mean that’s how it is for me….if I’m not making a move on something I feel inadequate..  Sometimes I wish I weren’t this way. I’m fighting for a cause and this fight…I must fight it alone.

True indeed I will be assisted at some point in all that I do, but internally I have to regulate the demands on my own and boy oh boy do they exist…verdict’s in…I will be successful.  Fuck a white lie, I’m not okay…I won’t be okay until the pictures that I see flickering vividly in front of my eyes even as I’m awake grinding to profile in these visions are a full color reality.  It’s hard to stray away from something or someone when you’re in love.  You can’t just walk away…no matter how much it puts you in feelings of despair.  I’m vulnerable… vulnerable to greatness…it’s an expensive ticket and the woman behind the counter gave me an ultimatum…she said you ‘gon have all this money up front to get in this establishment or you are not getting the fuck in….and so I work and I save and I work and I save some more…in hopes that she’d allow me in, I won’t stop until I have enough..

~The Lyricist

 

"My spirit is free.."

“My spirit is free..”

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