The "special primary" to determine the 2 [out of 15] candidates for the position of "interim" interim mayor in the City of Detroit (essentially, the mayor who will take over for the current interim mayor - who's only been mayor since the end of '08 - and who will hold the post from the time of the "special general election" (May 5!!!) until the general election in November/end of term in December) went down today. Results aren't in yet. Even still, I think I'm gonna be sick. I swear this process comes straight from the horse's ass.
Pray for my city.
---Update---
And with that, Ken Cockrel, Jr. and Dave Bing (yeah, that Dave Bing) have won the primary and will face off in May. Who was my preference? Of the candidates, these two might be the best choices...and I'm not the only one to think so. The lesser of fifteen evils have prevailed.
Keep praying.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Da Goodness ...
So Harlem-based-but-Cleveland-born MC/blogaholic/grinder Charles Hamilton decided to drop not one, not two, but three mixtapes in the span of 6 days. That's more tracks than some artists put out in a calendar year. Granted, when you're fighting for respect and recognition, it's important to get out there. But CtheH looks like he just does it for the love, and I'm feelin' that. His creative energy is something else.
Now, Charles has this whole Sonic the Hedgehog thing going on that I find kinda creative and intriguing. I mean, hell, I've been trying to figure out what obscure-yet-cool alter-ego I could attribute to myself for years now and I just can't seem to figure out one that sticks. Anyway, I was skimming through his main blog and ran across this ... "other" other side: Shadow. Now, in the Sonic universe, Shadow is the antithesis of Sonic in all aspects of his life. In Charles Hamilton's universe, Shadow the Hamilton is a place for him to display his poetry ... his brooding side.
Who do you think fell in love with that concept?
Back when I used to blog on the regular on another site, I developed a second blog just for that purpose. It was darker, in some senses bleaker, but completely separate from my day-to-day happenings. When it worked, I loved it. Granted I wasn't able to come up with a cool as hell alias back then, but still.
[Of course, in writing about it, I took 2 seconds to look back at that blog. I haven't written in it since January of 2007, when I was going through a very tough time with my ex-girlfriend. Pain is art, I wrote. It certainly is. I couldn't duplicate these lines if I tried. I suppose that's the benefit and purpose of having a muse: it makes you write what you couldn't consciously think of otherwise.]
In any event, listening to the third of C's mixtapes - Every Charles Hamilton Ex-Girlfriend's Worst Nightmare - got me to thinking about what if I were to write something for/about each of the women who have been in my life. Now there's some inspiration for that ass. I read the track-by-track breakdown he provided on his blog and really got to thinking about making something like that happen. I mean, from the hearts that I broke to the girls who broke mine; from the long and meaningful to the short and trivial; from the seemingly impossible to the seemingly unending, and even those that never even began. It's a very curious concept...and I just might give it a chance, if I really feel like revisiting those times in my past.
Just a thought. I just really want to put some words together. And part of me doesn't even care if they make sense anymore...
she wants me to write
and i want her to feel it:
my revolution
- 2/15/06
Now, Charles has this whole Sonic the Hedgehog thing going on that I find kinda creative and intriguing. I mean, hell, I've been trying to figure out what obscure-yet-cool alter-ego I could attribute to myself for years now and I just can't seem to figure out one that sticks. Anyway, I was skimming through his main blog and ran across this ... "other" other side: Shadow. Now, in the Sonic universe, Shadow is the antithesis of Sonic in all aspects of his life. In Charles Hamilton's universe, Shadow the Hamilton is a place for him to display his poetry ... his brooding side.
Who do you think fell in love with that concept?
Back when I used to blog on the regular on another site, I developed a second blog just for that purpose. It was darker, in some senses bleaker, but completely separate from my day-to-day happenings. When it worked, I loved it. Granted I wasn't able to come up with a cool as hell alias back then, but still.
[Of course, in writing about it, I took 2 seconds to look back at that blog. I haven't written in it since January of 2007, when I was going through a very tough time with my ex-girlfriend. Pain is art, I wrote. It certainly is. I couldn't duplicate these lines if I tried. I suppose that's the benefit and purpose of having a muse: it makes you write what you couldn't consciously think of otherwise.]
In any event, listening to the third of C's mixtapes - Every Charles Hamilton Ex-Girlfriend's Worst Nightmare - got me to thinking about what if I were to write something for/about each of the women who have been in my life. Now there's some inspiration for that ass. I read the track-by-track breakdown he provided on his blog and really got to thinking about making something like that happen. I mean, from the hearts that I broke to the girls who broke mine; from the long and meaningful to the short and trivial; from the seemingly impossible to the seemingly unending, and even those that never even began. It's a very curious concept...and I just might give it a chance, if I really feel like revisiting those times in my past.
Just a thought. I just really want to put some words together. And part of me doesn't even care if they make sense anymore...
she wants me to write
and i want her to feel it:
my revolution
- 2/15/06
Monday, February 16, 2009
Hold Tight ...
I'm coming back. Don't forget about me. Clearly, twitter has taken some of my creative/quick-trigger attention. But I still live here. I will continue to live here. I'm coming back.
So just hold tight.
So just hold tight.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Set Adrift on Memory Bliss ...
Clearly I'm still not quite there. Just a few steps short. Book's not finished. Writing's not consistent. Happiness not solidified. Mind not right.
But if at first you don't succeed...
So I'm still here, still trying. Still pushing and poking and prodding so that I can further understand where I am and, more importantly, where I want to be. I've been thrown off course a bit. Effectively derailed. But I'm bouncing back. I need to get that pep back in my step; figure out what I had right a few weeks ago and get back to it. It's hard when you're dog tired, and when you're facing the monotony of a meaningless grind. Yes, meaningless. The present is past. My eyes are on the future.
And how do you face a present-past with any interest when the future is now?
But I will find my zone. I'm bound to. Even though the days tend to blend together .. particularly during the week .. I'm going to find my pace, spot, and space. A key to that is putting each 24 hour period behind me. Starting fresh, anew. Solving the problems ahead of me instead of carrying the baggage from those prior. I'm starting to do that. People have been forgotten. Memories erased. Fears tossed aside. Issues dropped. And in some ways, I feel more confident and comfortable because of it.
But something always takes me back.
The new lesson, though, is to control what I remember. Oscar Wilde once said, "A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them." It is my goal to take this to heart, and to apply them to my memories. I've spent a lot of time reminiscing in the last few days, but not all for nothing. In fact, parts of it have been extremely enjoyable. Someone provided me with this link, and I almost hit the floor. No one will ever, ever debate the fact that music is one of our most crucial links to our collective past, as well as to our individual histories. Music makes us remember. We know exactly who, what, where, and even why we were doing what we were doing when we first - or last - heard that song. We remember "our song" when we think about past relationships, good or bad. It's why we can have "period pieces," and films where the soundtrack plays just as important a role as the action on screen (see, e.g., Dead Presidents; American Gangster). Music has always paced my life. So when followed the link and I started listening to the tracks from the time when I first, officially fell in love with hip-hop, the memories began to flow.
And I loved it.
Sure, I've gone through some shit. Sure, I haven't had the best relationships and interactions, and surely the memories aren't always the best. But none of that mattered. It was all about the music. It took me places I haven't been, seen, or even thought of in 10, 12, 15 years. Every step of the journey was paved with oohs, ahhs, and "Oh my God"s. It took me back to dates, events, individuals .. not the ones that I shut out forever, but the ones that simply faded to the background. Not the ones that were forcible forgotten, but the ones that merely fell victim to my poor physical memory. That's the feeling I want to have with all of my thoughts: slay the demons, and live a life full of things to be remembered.
Use. Enjoy. Dominate.
"At the mercy of": wholly in the power of : with no way to protect oneself against. That's no way to live. No way for me to live. No way I want to live. I'm tired of losing the fight against my own mind. I'm tired of being at the whim and will of my own mental state. Losing my creativity, failing to understand my happiness. To hell with all of that. Every day is a step toward reinvention and getting to be who I want. The future is now, and I've got the keys. I'm finally driving.
Now... which way do I go?
But if at first you don't succeed...
So I'm still here, still trying. Still pushing and poking and prodding so that I can further understand where I am and, more importantly, where I want to be. I've been thrown off course a bit. Effectively derailed. But I'm bouncing back. I need to get that pep back in my step; figure out what I had right a few weeks ago and get back to it. It's hard when you're dog tired, and when you're facing the monotony of a meaningless grind. Yes, meaningless. The present is past. My eyes are on the future.
And how do you face a present-past with any interest when the future is now?
But I will find my zone. I'm bound to. Even though the days tend to blend together .. particularly during the week .. I'm going to find my pace, spot, and space. A key to that is putting each 24 hour period behind me. Starting fresh, anew. Solving the problems ahead of me instead of carrying the baggage from those prior. I'm starting to do that. People have been forgotten. Memories erased. Fears tossed aside. Issues dropped. And in some ways, I feel more confident and comfortable because of it.
But something always takes me back.
The new lesson, though, is to control what I remember. Oscar Wilde once said, "A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them." It is my goal to take this to heart, and to apply them to my memories. I've spent a lot of time reminiscing in the last few days, but not all for nothing. In fact, parts of it have been extremely enjoyable. Someone provided me with this link, and I almost hit the floor. No one will ever, ever debate the fact that music is one of our most crucial links to our collective past, as well as to our individual histories. Music makes us remember. We know exactly who, what, where, and even why we were doing what we were doing when we first - or last - heard that song. We remember "our song" when we think about past relationships, good or bad. It's why we can have "period pieces," and films where the soundtrack plays just as important a role as the action on screen (see, e.g., Dead Presidents; American Gangster). Music has always paced my life. So when followed the link and I started listening to the tracks from the time when I first, officially fell in love with hip-hop, the memories began to flow.
And I loved it.
Sure, I've gone through some shit. Sure, I haven't had the best relationships and interactions, and surely the memories aren't always the best. But none of that mattered. It was all about the music. It took me places I haven't been, seen, or even thought of in 10, 12, 15 years. Every step of the journey was paved with oohs, ahhs, and "Oh my God"s. It took me back to dates, events, individuals .. not the ones that I shut out forever, but the ones that simply faded to the background. Not the ones that were forcible forgotten, but the ones that merely fell victim to my poor physical memory. That's the feeling I want to have with all of my thoughts: slay the demons, and live a life full of things to be remembered.
Use. Enjoy. Dominate.
"At the mercy of": wholly in the power of : with no way to protect oneself against. That's no way to live. No way for me to live. No way I want to live. I'm tired of losing the fight against my own mind. I'm tired of being at the whim and will of my own mental state. Losing my creativity, failing to understand my happiness. To hell with all of that. Every day is a step toward reinvention and getting to be who I want. The future is now, and I've got the keys. I'm finally driving.
Now... which way do I go?
Thursday, January 22, 2009
São Paolo Nights ...
Write or sleep. The struggle continues.
It's hard for me to separate the things I hand-write every day from the things I want to post on here. When I was younger ("younger"), my online blog was my sanctuary. I housed everything there. Here, I've decided to be a little more cautious ... if only a little.
I was doing well writing once a day like I hoped for, but I did fall off at some point last week. It's still cathartic, though, and I still do try to keep my journal with me. Plus, I'm almost finished reading the companion book to my little project. It's taken longer than expected ... I know that if I sat down, I could knock out all 420 pages ... mostly because of being back in school. I'm 3/4 through, though, so it should be done by the weekend.
By the way, I'm aware that your President's Black (and your Lambo's blue [rims are, too]) ... believe it or not, my President's Black, too. Dig that! Now, can we please come up with another song/slogan? Please? Pretty please?
Anyway, look for me this weekend. I should have some (plenty?) of time to myself so that I can write and reflect on some questions that I've been asking myself (like, 'where has all of my creative energy gone?' and 'what the hell is REALLY wrong with me?'). I also plan on finishing my bar application this weekend, and continuing this streak of positivity and excitement regarding my future that I've had recently. No more pessimism and/or fear. Too much greatness to come. Serenity, clarity, sanity, calm.
More to come...
It's hard for me to separate the things I hand-write every day from the things I want to post on here. When I was younger ("younger"), my online blog was my sanctuary. I housed everything there. Here, I've decided to be a little more cautious ... if only a little.
I was doing well writing once a day like I hoped for, but I did fall off at some point last week. It's still cathartic, though, and I still do try to keep my journal with me. Plus, I'm almost finished reading the companion book to my little project. It's taken longer than expected ... I know that if I sat down, I could knock out all 420 pages ... mostly because of being back in school. I'm 3/4 through, though, so it should be done by the weekend.
By the way, I'm aware that your President's Black (and your Lambo's blue [rims are, too]) ... believe it or not, my President's Black, too. Dig that! Now, can we please come up with another song/slogan? Please? Pretty please?
Anyway, look for me this weekend. I should have some (plenty?) of time to myself so that I can write and reflect on some questions that I've been asking myself (like, 'where has all of my creative energy gone?' and 'what the hell is REALLY wrong with me?'). I also plan on finishing my bar application this weekend, and continuing this streak of positivity and excitement regarding my future that I've had recently. No more pessimism and/or fear. Too much greatness to come. Serenity, clarity, sanity, calm.
More to come...
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Roll On ...
Gotta love a good D-centric video. It's given me the chills ever since I saw it premiere a few months ago.
Makes me homesick every time.
Makes me homesick every time.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Sleep To Dream ...
Hypnophobia - an abnormal fear of falling asleep.
I've always been the one who never wanted to miss anything. Not that I wanted to be in the center of it all, but I never wanted things to pass me by. I always wanted to be awake, aware, reachable, available just in case. When I was a kid, I refused to fall asleep on long car rides; I'd always stare out the window just in case I missed something cool going by. Now I'm 24, a far cry from that preschooler. My phone stays on 24/7. My ringer is always on at night just in case someone needs me. Just in case something happens. If you need me, if you want me... I'm always here.
But for the last few days, extending into last week, I've been afraid to go to sleep. I used "afraid" because I've yet to come up with a better term. I don't want to sleep. I want to fight it. I'm not scared of my dreams, or am I? ... I'm scared of tomorrow, and I don't know why. The next day ... not scared that I won't make it, but scared that I will. My friend told me it's an ill-fated attempt to preserve time, to not waste it on sleep.
A losing battle.
But I try anyway. I'd rather be reading, or writing, or talking, or with someone. Anything but sleeping. My mind keeps moving until it naturally shuts off. I haven't even been noticing myself fall asleep... I just inevitably lose the fight. What am I thinking about? Why won't I sleep?
What am I scared of?
I've always been the one who never wanted to miss anything. Not that I wanted to be in the center of it all, but I never wanted things to pass me by. I always wanted to be awake, aware, reachable, available just in case. When I was a kid, I refused to fall asleep on long car rides; I'd always stare out the window just in case I missed something cool going by. Now I'm 24, a far cry from that preschooler. My phone stays on 24/7. My ringer is always on at night just in case someone needs me. Just in case something happens. If you need me, if you want me... I'm always here.
But for the last few days, extending into last week, I've been afraid to go to sleep. I used "afraid" because I've yet to come up with a better term. I don't want to sleep. I want to fight it. I'm not scared of my dreams, or am I? ... I'm scared of tomorrow, and I don't know why. The next day ... not scared that I won't make it, but scared that I will. My friend told me it's an ill-fated attempt to preserve time, to not waste it on sleep.
A losing battle.
But I try anyway. I'd rather be reading, or writing, or talking, or with someone. Anything but sleeping. My mind keeps moving until it naturally shuts off. I haven't even been noticing myself fall asleep... I just inevitably lose the fight. What am I thinking about? Why won't I sleep?
What am I scared of?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Primal Scream ...
"If you wanna live life on your own terms
gotta be willing to crash and burn..."
- Motley Crue, Primal Scream
True. Fitting. Gotta be willing to take risks in order to get to where you want to be... where you can make the rules instead of being forced to fit someone else' mold. I'll include another quote to back it up:
"If you are dissatisfied with yourself in the scheme of things and the altar has not changed conditions, perhaps you should consider the alter. After all if anything changes, it will be through the word alter/alteration/alternative because how can you dare speak of change if you do not have an alternative?"
- Sun Ra
Felt good today. Positive, motivated; I do well when that happens. We'll see if it continues tomorrow.
gotta be willing to crash and burn..."
- Motley Crue, Primal Scream
True. Fitting. Gotta be willing to take risks in order to get to where you want to be... where you can make the rules instead of being forced to fit someone else' mold. I'll include another quote to back it up:
"If you are dissatisfied with yourself in the scheme of things and the altar has not changed conditions, perhaps you should consider the alter. After all if anything changes, it will be through the word alter/alteration/alternative because how can you dare speak of change if you do not have an alternative?"
- Sun Ra
Felt good today. Positive, motivated; I do well when that happens. We'll see if it continues tomorrow.
Friday, January 9, 2009
More Human Than Human...
New goal:
I am going to write something every day, at least on paper. I have demons, some of which I've never met. I want to give them a chance to introduce themselves. There is no more "try," or longing "want." I will do. I started today. I'm eager to continue.
New inspiration:
Nikki Sixx, "The Heroin Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star"
I've been wanting this book for a while. I bought it today (it was previously only available in hardcover, but the paperback version dropped around Christmas). I started it tonight. I wrote as I read. If it hadn't gotten so cold outside, I'd still be reading. I might go out later and continue. Written by/from the diaries of Mötley Crüe bassist Nikki Sixx. I have a thing about getting into peoples' minds .. especially those with some sort of psychosis - natural or self-induced. Maybe because I have my own, and I want to see how others feel/cope/deal. Maybe.
Waxpoetics Magazine
Just grabbed issue #32 with Sly Stone on the cover. Inspirational in and of itself, but of a different sort. I'll be reading it soon.
My pen and notebook will be with me every day. I will do this. A chronicle.
Coming soon.
I am going to write something every day, at least on paper. I have demons, some of which I've never met. I want to give them a chance to introduce themselves. There is no more "try," or longing "want." I will do. I started today. I'm eager to continue.
New inspiration:
Nikki Sixx, "The Heroin Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star"
I've been wanting this book for a while. I bought it today (it was previously only available in hardcover, but the paperback version dropped around Christmas). I started it tonight. I wrote as I read. If it hadn't gotten so cold outside, I'd still be reading. I might go out later and continue. Written by/from the diaries of Mötley Crüe bassist Nikki Sixx. I have a thing about getting into peoples' minds .. especially those with some sort of psychosis - natural or self-induced. Maybe because I have my own, and I want to see how others feel/cope/deal. Maybe.
Waxpoetics Magazine
Just grabbed issue #32 with Sly Stone on the cover. Inspirational in and of itself, but of a different sort. I'll be reading it soon.
My pen and notebook will be with me every day. I will do this. A chronicle.
Coming soon.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Sound of the City...
Crazy emotional article by famous Detroit sportswriter Mitch Albom about my city. Ridiculously emotional, actually. It brought tears to my eyes because I know exactly how he felt as he wrote it. Some things were just so clear to me... And maybe you ask why? Maybe you ask, as I get asked all the time, "Why do you stay there? Why don't you leave?"
Maybe because we like it here. Maybe because this is what we know: snow and concrete underfoot, hardhats, soul music, lakes, hockey sticks. Maybe because we don't see just the burned-out houses; we also see the Fox Theater, the Detroit Institute of Arts, the Whitney restaurant, the riverfront that looks out to Canada. Maybe because we still have seniors who call the auto giant "Ford's", like a shop that's owned by a real human being. Maybe because some of us subscribe to Pastor Covington's words, "We are somebody because God loves us," no matter how cold the night or hard the mattress.
Maybe because when our kids finish college and take that first job in some sexy faraway city and a year later we see them back home and we ask what happened, they say, "I missed my friends and family." And we nod and say we understand.
If you have the time, read the whole thing. It sheds a lot of light on how we Detroiters see ourselves, despite how the rest of the country continually dogs us and treats us as if we're not worth much of anything. I love it.Thanks, Mitch.
Click here to read 'The Courage of Detroit'.
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