Bullet Train ...

man the fuck up.

i keep watching people pass me by.

i gotta get organized. make moves. get it together.

i got things to do.

catch up.

Separate/Together ...

i had a revelation today
that the only way i'm ever going to be
someone i'm proud of
is if i take pride in myself.

[what?]

that's right.
pride begets pride,
and in order to do that
i need to have a sit-down with myself
all of my selves
and let them hash out their differences.

the writer
the activist
the scholar
the lawyer
the healer
the patient
the son
the brother
the friend
the man

they all need to meet,
maybe over coffee,
and determine what is it about them all
that makes them able to share one body.
they might even
let me know
that they're not alone.
there could be more.

the results might astound you...

---

15 (now 16) posts in the month of March. i'm impressed with myself. it's a step in the right direction when it comes to taking this writing thing seriously. though, after looking back, this is nothing..nothing like the pace, length and depth of posts i used to make years ago. my goodness. i was a totally different person. i can't even fathom how i was able to wrap my mind around some of the things i was talking about, and i can't imagine my mind being as busy as it was - able to focus on all of the things that were going on inside of it. i mean i could drone on and on and on about ... any and everything. i'm not sure if that's the goal now, or if i'm just in awe of what i was once able to do.

in any event, it feels good to write again.

---

my blog is black. it looks so dark in comparison to others. i was going to change it but there's something about it that i really like. love the way almost all colors jump against a black background.

black makes things better.

i was going to go into my whole 'punisher' motif, but i'm not sure if i want to anymore. i watched punisher: war zone the other day, which got me to thinking about why i adopted this symbol in the first place (as you can see by the display image and my t-shirt to the left).

[to be fair, i didn't just take it from the movies. i began thinking of it as a representation of myself back in the comic book days. then when i watched the tortured anti-hero in the thomas jane theatrical version, i liked it even more.]

just know this: i'm not violent; i'm not out for retribution; and my entire family didn't die some sort of horrible death. to me, the punisher is representative of internal struggle - constantly trying to do good, though sometimes through addition-by-subtraction - and redemption. i've struggled for some time. maybe the struggles are self-imposed, and maybe they're not, but i've definitely gone/put myself through it. and while i need help, and sometimes get it, i prefer to go it alone. i'm not always good, i'm not always right, and i don't always get caught, but i'm out to make a way.

i will make a way. and i will be redeemed. it's not so much that i'm punishing other people, but i've punished myself ... and i need to fix it.

rudimentary, i know, but the choice is far more complex than liking the logo...

---

gotta be on it this week. lots to do. need to start imposing my own deadlines. don't know if i'm disciplined enough. but i'm tired of watching the weeks go by. it's april. i have 2 months until my next major change and i am in no way, shape, or form in position for it to happen. can't just wait until things happen to me. can't catch a baseball if your mitt's at your side. really can't catch it if your mitt's not even on your hand.

i always fall back on one of my favorite album intros in times like this:

Spinning complacently in the darkness,
covered and blinded by a blanket of little lives,
false security has lulled the madness of this world into a slumber.
Wake up!
An eye is upon you,
staring straight down and keenly through,
seeing all that you are and everything that you can never be.
Yes, an eye is upon you, an eye ready to blink.
So face forward,
with arms wide open and mind reeling.
Your future has arrived...

Are you ready to go?

well...
am i?

Stay Cool ...

i'm having a moment.

a
shut-the-fuck-up
let-me-breathe
calm-yourself
hush
moment.

a
this-is-not-how-
i-envisioned-things-
so-wait-
up
moment.

a
stuck-in-time
moment
where nothing seems to make sense
and everything moves too fast.

[blow my doors off.]

a
where-did-you-come-from
moment.
and
i'm in the mood
to disappear.

[so much to do, so little time.
so easily sidetracked.]

i'm not the same
as i was
when you think
i met you
yesterday.
tomorrow
will prove
that today
is real.

now,
if you'll excuse me...

---

i feel like falling back. like crawling into a shell. like i need to step back from every situation, re-evaluate my approach. like i need to sit on a stool and listen to my corner. probe for openings, keep my hands up, stay on the move, play the angles, and when the time is right...

boom.

much to do. i'm trying to engage a bunch of different aspects of self to make it happen, too. i need all of me, and we all need to be on the same page. i almost need to fall back - things are getting too hot on a number of fronts, and in order to keep everything in check, i almost feel like i should just disappear.

temporarily, of course, and not in a bad way.

"wanna get away?"

but it's pretty hard to do that when you're needed. wanted. desired. just trying to keep all parties at the table pleased. keeping those water glasses filled without allowing the table to tip...

excuse me.
someone else just ordered a drink.

Left Behind ...

I've known faces that have disappeared in time
Find me wrapped in glass and slowly soaked in lime
All my friends have pictures made to make you cry
I've seen this and wondered what I've done to
Calcify...

(I ignore you)
As I close my eyes, I feel it all slipping away
(I come toward you)
We all got left behind, we let it all slip away ...
- Slipknot, "Left Behind"

---

one of many photo essays about my city...

Detroit's Beautiful, Horrible Decline.

there's another i saw recently (a trend?), but i can't find it. i'll keep looking.

Seeing Sounds ...

This must be what it's like ... maybe?



Or this?

Like A Stone ...

pump-faking.

i really wanted to write tonight, too. just can't seem to get the words organized. or out. or formed.
guess i'll see if i can wait them out.

i got all night.

---

In the mean time...

You Should Be Here ...

'cause i don't like being lonely.

Nice Girl, Wrong Place ...

you never cease to
tie my tongue in knots
no matter how many times i map out
exactly what i want to say
when you call.

[never.]

though for three years, our conversations were periods of silence book-ended with "guess what happened to me today."
now
silence makes me wonder if you're thinking what i'm thinking
or worse
if you're regretting ever picking up the phone
in the first place.
i'm trapped.
U-n-I aren't what we was or were.

[i know that.]

but when you say i'll always have a piece of your heart
it sounds like
the way an immature lover
would promise her premature beau that
at age 13
she'll be his forever.
that scares me.
[we used to be in love. but i kind of changed that. so what do i really deserve?
and all these nights that i dream of loving your body the way i used to really don't mean much of anything anymore. i know that, too. but i did wake up kissing my pillow.]

[no, really. i did.]

i'm sorry that things are coming along so slowly.
i'm sorry that i can't be who i said i would.
fuck, i'm sorry i can't say this to your face.
not yet.
maybe next time will be better.

[call me. i miss your laughter.]

---

if anyone can make me crack i swear it's her. our book is closed. well, closed might be too finite, too final. it's more like ... dog-eared, on the second-to-last page. i forced out of myself the difficult words that i didn't think i could say, and - worse - i didn't say them how i wanted to [i told you she can crack me]. her reaction was surprise, mixed with disbelief .. that cold, "i got you, nigga" kind of disbelief that i used to hate. excited, sure. and i know she wants the best. but i couldn't even deliver my own news on my own terms or with any sense of certainty, confidence, or clarity.

even the truth feels like a lie.

[again. isn't that where the breakdown happened the first fucking time?]

will i ever learn how to handle you?

The Oath ...

if i could blog the week away instead of waiting for you in my inbox, i would.
maybe i will.

---

are you waiting for me?
fuck.
[i hate having difficult conversations.]

['cause, see, i was secretly waiting for you, too, but somehow when i was stuck in yesterday trying to plan tomorrow, all i could see was the opposite of you .. mocking me from the other side of the bed.]

[i hated that.]

---

6:54pm

"tick-
tock,
tick-
tock;"
someone shoot
that infernal clock.

Zoning In My Dome ...

sometimes words, they just get in the way ...

k.i.s.s.
stop bullshitting and k/i/s/s.
it's just that easy.
now, there's only the small matter of turning k.i.s.s. into kiss....a wholly different concept.
like the difference between 1.000 and 1000.
i suppose a shift is in order.

[a self-imposed overdose on amp energy drinks coupled with an utter lack of sleep, a disdain for the coming week, an inability to focus on the task at hand, and an acute case of attention deficit disorder has brought this on...so i suppose you have all of the above to thank for my writing ...my randomness.]

i can't even categorize what's going on.
so i won't.

---

i think i'm trying to cope with this concept of coming back down from what was an amazing week off, largely free of the things that i've been putting up with and the lackluster people that have crept into my life, and having to get back to the fake smiles and pretentiousness that has become my 9:30-5 three day-a-week pseudo-grind. spring break was a hell of a time for introspection, in addition to just plain old fun. I made it my goal to do something, anything, every day... something that would allow me to enjoy my time in this city a little bit more than i may have previously. and it worked...:

• friday was the normal 2+ hours hooping, and relaxing for the remainder of the day;
• saturday i collected some friends and went to watch the US get their asses handed to them by puerto rico in the world baseball classic ... we got our revenge, but it was no fun being mocked by a bunch of territorians...;
• sunday i was invited to the ca championship at doral, so in a moment of "when else am i going to ever do this," i decided to go watch the final round of a professional golf tournament. i must say that standing 10 feet behind Tiger as he teed off at the 17th hole goes down as one of my all-time sports memories;
• monday was spent walking south beach;
• tuesday included laying on south beach with friends, in addition to st. patrick's day drunkeness and shenanigans;
• wednesday was largely spent recovering, and attempting to prepare for the weekend;
• thursday began with food, drink, and ncaa basketball downtown, followed by time spent gathering from the airport my arriving friends who were coming to spend the weekend with me;
• friday and saturday were a blur... a whirlwind of motion and hilarity, mostly spent in miami beach day and night;
• and today, an extension of last night since i returned my friends to the airport directly from the club at 5am, has been spent catching up academically for tuesday .. to little avail .. and has left me right here...

so now it's 2am on monday morning. dave hollister's "my favorite girl" thumping in my ear candy headphones. mind reeling, trying to compartmentalize thoughts, emotions, memories. hearing ghosts of the past.

[clearly i'm just cruising around on some sophisticated-yet-simple form of autopilot. my mind and body are rarely on the same schedule, and this night is no different in that sense. the artificial energy has distorted my equilibrium.]

[imagine listening to an LP on the record player ... and not noticing when the music stops; all you hear is the pop of the vinyl, caused by the needle running out of grooves.]

[there's nothing left, but my record just keeps spinning...]

---

i hate songs that get me at the first note. amerie's all i have is and always was a dope album, one of my favorites in my r & b collection. but i can't listen to "nothing like loving you". i just can't. it's already hard to listen to most of the album as it is, because i can remember the last time it was in heavy rotation..constant repeat..and who it pertains to. but that song in particular - the way it comes in - makes my heart sink.

[for other examples of the same phenomenon, see, e.g., jagged edge's "promise," amel larrieux's "make me whole," and - though not so much anymore - ashanti's "movies".]

---

i feel my high coming down.
time to sleep to the rhythm of
city lights.

To Whom It May Concern ...

Ever wonder where the title of this blog came from?

Schism ...

Trying to reconcile two selves: the artist v. the professional.

One's esoteric; the other, grounded.

Why does this have to be a 'versus' battle? Can't I be both?

The View from the Afternoon ...

Another throwback, written when I believed my uncle's M.D. was going to take his life:

That bitch is in the room.
She encircles the
area like a
veil of
uncertainty wrapped in
maniacal laughter
so thick that
breathing her feels like
snorting soup.

She
so insidious
unravels her scroll
whilst the foul
stench of
living
death
billows out like
souls
from smoked-out tenements
razed in hopes of
reaching heaven
by way of fire.

Obsidian eyes
devoid of
breath
navigate deftly
souls of
unbelievers
not knowing how one
decrepit
beautiful seductress
drove destiny's chariot
and
held Hell's key.

Slight fingers
white as
the ash of
martyrs
point
pull
prove too much
for the wail
of the weak
wishing to
begin anew.

You can
taste
her bitter
defiant
indifference
in the soot
of the hole
she burns
in your eyes.

That bitch
always wins.

Them Nights ...

A throwback from '05:

I'm a sucker for sun-dresses
blowing in the wind of a hundred-degree summer breeze
showing off ray-kissed pecan thighs
while you twirl for me,
like you did your father.

(Mama said there'd be days like this.)

Wet with the combined sweat and tears
of a long night yet to come;
anticipating the past,
you feel like heaven to me
before I even touch you
but after I decide never to let go.

(The moon stands still for us.)

I slept soundly last night
breathing in each of your curls
and exhaling your smile.
Twenty fingers and twenty toes so invariably intertwined
that had God Himself decided to steal one of us in the darkness
He'd have given up and moved on down the list.

(That's how it should be.)

Searching for my soul I found you;
the perfect imperfect reflection of what I wanted to be
without knowing what that was.
Not knowing how or why
when, where, or who,
I'm home.

(There's no place like it.)

I hope to never leave this haze
created by the countless times I have given up on the world
only to get drunk off you.
Left senseless
right before me
love materializes in exactly your shape and size.

(I'm a sucker for a sun-dress.)

Give It To Me Right ...

Am I looking for the wrong kind of woman?

Am I just looking?

Hmm...

Deadly Habitz ...

I remember when she told me it was mine.

And I remember her saying she thought hers was the only one I needed.

Wasn't it?

The fuck is wrong with me?

'D' Is For Dangerous ...

I started this post a few days ago, but never got around to finishing it. I think I was a bit uncertain as to what I felt like writing. My mind and body was in consensus that something needed to be said, but .. who ever knows what? I'm not back into "life-chronicling" like I used to, though I suppose I do [still] use twitter for that (damn that site & the applications it's spawned). It's funny because the other day when I was battling writer's block, I was considering blogging fiction just to keep my writing skills sharp. I still might surprise myself and actually do it, but no guarantees. I need to get back to getting my own personal thoughts out before I assume other characters...

Anyway, last week/weekend's guilty musical pleasure was the Arctic Monkeys. It all started with an acquaintance introducing me to their music video for "Fluorescent Adolescent." However, if you know me, you'll know that it only took about 7 seconds before I was forced to turn the video off. [If you don't know me, do yourself a favor and look up the definition of coulrophobia...and you'll understand. If you want the story as to why that applies, we can talk.] Anyway, as a result of that, I was forced to find live versions of the song and was pleasantly surprised. I quickly found more and more, until I ended up possessing both Arctic Monkeys albums, Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, and Favourite Worst Nightmare. After listening to both several times over and picking out a few favorite tracks, I was thankful for having been introduced to these young folk from across the pond.

And then the musical floodgates opened.

Since then, I've spent no fewer than 2-3 hours daily browsing youtube for live performances by some of my favorite bands at some of the big-name festivals around the world (Big Day Out, Pinkpop, Rock Am Ring..even Woodstock '99). There's something about live rock performances that outdoes almost any other genre. I mean, hip hop concerts are cool and all, but there's so little room for improvisation built in to the dynamics of the show. Of course, rapper X can throw in a freestyle here and there, but for the most part you know every word, every ad-lib, every beat break... and depending on who you see and where, you're lucky to even be able to hear or understand the rhymes. But rock concerts are a little different... as are most shows with live instrumentation (so The Roots can fall into this category, too). There's just so much room for improvisation. You can see the same song performed 5 different times at 5 different venues, know the guitar solo is coming up, and be surprised and amazed at the way that the guitarist deviates just so slightly from the basic solo every single time. I love that! So, as a result, I ended up watching multiple clips of Metallica, Slipknot, Sevendust, Stone Sour, Bush, Godsmack, Megadeth, Iron Maiden, Incubus, Korn, Powerman 5000, Queens of the Stone Age, and others just do what they do. Came away with some favorites, too. For example, I'm infatuated with this performance of "Knights of Cydonia" by Muse, live from Wembly Stadium in '07. So epic. Equally epic: Metallica performing "Enter Sandman" at Rock Am Ring '08. There's something about the energy. I love watching artists, especially guitarists, get into their work. It always leads me to one of my favorite images of that instance... Jimi Hendrix playing Woodstock, eyes closed, mouth open, feeling the music. And don't even get me started on what it must feel like to perform in front of a mass of humanity singing and humming and harmonizing with a song that you wrote... jumping and bouncing and... just loving what you do.

There's nothing like it. Makes me jealous.

This is why I love music.

And this... is where I must pause... but I leave you with this: