Today I made a wrong turn on my way to Chick-Fil-A. I thought it was kinda metaphorical for my life.
Here’s what I came up with:
I make wrongs turns, but I’m never headed in the wrong direction. I will arrive at the proper destination when I’m ready, not a moment too soon nor a moment too late. Timeliness is not Godliness. A capitalist told you wrong.
I’m also black so DUH I’d be on my way to Chick-Fil-A.
Ms. Badu’s “…& On” is gettin it right now.
So let’s keep the questions coming:
What good is this blog if you ain’t reading it?
What good is this blog if I don’t update it?
What good is school if I don’t give a shit?
What good is this irrelevant brilliance I’m shittin if my paper due tomorrow is bullshit?
What good is my immense vocabulary if I keep cursing?
What good is money if you are not happy?
What good are you if you aren’t helping someone else?
K I’m getting generic. Yuck.
But PAY ATTENTION.
I’m telling you a tale of love rooted in apathy with origins of forgiveness that won’t bring you happiness but will make you think.
To be continued… over a lifetime.
It’s been a while since I’ve checked in and I’m having another one of those procrastination nights so let’s talk. I’m feeling good. I’ve been productive as hell lately and that always feels good. Getting shit done = No worries. Also, today I had just half a bagel for breakfast, a light lunch with Christopher Nelson, and a super light dinner of hummus and pita. I’m having a skinny day! Now I just have to get to bed before I get hungry again. Cori says it’s pretty when a little rib shows and I trust her so I’m going for it!
Despite this current pleasant state, there has been something on my mind: my major. What is it good for? As I ponder, I realize that free will comes at a cost. That cost is making decisions and decision making causes anxiety. Think about this: Largely (in an affluent society), hard choices no longer play out the classic battle of good versus evil; it’s good versus good! Think about these two situations. Is it harder choosing between tripping an awkward kid in the cafeteria for laughs versus sparing his feelings OR Chipotle versus pizza? I’m going with Chipotle versus pizza. Or once at Dominos choosing cheezy bread or cinnastix? Don’t even throw the chicken kickers in there! Those are life decisions, people!
Essentially choosing a major for me was a clash of good versus good. For one, an alarming minority of people in this country attend college. Though I know I deserve to be here, I feel lucky and grateful. I honestly didn’t care what major I chose. I felt like many paths could have worked, but there was something challenging and intriguing about philosophy that left me wanting more. I also already had enough courses for a minor so why not be major? Now that the decision has been made, the challenge feels more pressing. When I was really down in the dumps I received this uplifting quote from my fairy godmother, Yini. She said, “Without ideas, an action is simply directionless energy.” And it all became clear. I’m going to take these brilliant ideas of usually isolated, self-interested men to take action and affect change in the masses they were too far removed to connect with. I’ve got no more than that… think colored. youth. empowerment. peace. unity. collectivism. social. justice.
However, I look at my desk and think I just might be made for it. Right now, it holds everything I need in life. A bookshelf with hella books, a bottle of wine (thanks C-Nel), a picture of my grandma, a pack of cloves (my last one… thanks Barack Obama [pause] NOT), some seashells for decoration, my glasses (also for decoration), and the rest of that hummus.
**Please note that this is an old post. This draft has been sitting for about a month. I have since finished that pack of cloves, found a ton of Marxist literature to add to my collection, and been unproductive.**
Let’s start with my apologies. It’s been a while since I’ve written. I was too busy living? Who knows. My next excuse will be that I’m too busy thinking. College is not the place for creativity. Let’s face it. I’m in a big bubble of intellectual homogeneity. “They” tell us what to read, what to write, what to be involved in, and don’t let “them” fool you, “they’re” telling us how to think too. Ahh, where would we be without “them?”
I guess I’m feeling particularly reflective because it’s my birthday. I should be studying for a quiz (happy birthday me) (hence the title). But I decided I was finished.
Recently I realized that as much as i think I’m an individual, I am that person. You know what I mean. Someone who’s reading this has me allll figured out. I’m just like someone you read about, some character in a movie, maybe a politician (I’ve been feeling that way lately). Get off your high horse, you are too. I’ve been me for a long time and I’d like to evolve from that person. No new beginnings, that’s for people with problems, just evolution like any normal homo sapien. For starts, I’ve decided my life song for the year with be Alanis Morisette’s “Hand in My Pocket.” “I am broke but I’m happy, short but healthy, high but grounded, sane but overwhelmed, lost but hopeful, here but really gone, wrong and I’m sorry, free but focused, hard but friendly, and most importantly brave but chicken shit. Also in addition to having one hand in my pocket, I like peace signs, high fives, and flicking cigarettes. “But what it boils down too is that I haven’t got it all figured out just yet.” And I know “everything’s gonna be quite alright.”
Come to think of it I think “they” are these goddamn philosophers I study. Damnit they got me! And they thought they weren’t talking to black people… little did they know…
Peace yaalllll
While washing dishes, I had this conversation with myself, “Wait what year am I going into? I just finished my second… so… JUNIOR!? Damn! Where has the time gone?
I still remember my first day at AU. I was wearing a pair of jeans I’ve now thrown away because they had huge holes by the crotch, an orange t shirt, a green hoodie, and army Converse I bought because they were only five dollars. It was drizzling out. We went to meet with my financial aid adviser as soon as we arrived. I still have no idea what any of that shit means. By the way, it also recently hit me that when I graduate, I HAVE BILLS TO PAY. College loans are a certainty of my imminent future. I should start saving… Next we walked to Housing and Dining so I could get an ID card. Even though I’ve lost my ID 3 times since then, I keep that first picture. It captures exactly how I felt in that moment. Overall, I look awkward but also a little scared and I’m wearing and uneasy smirk that says ,”Well, this is it.” Next, my grandfather and aunt give me hand dropping my stuff off in the room, Leonard 418. My roommate Cori had already arrived and set up her space. She left open the side of the room I wanted without even consulting me. Come to think of it, that should have been an indication that we’d get along. I mean she was really just grabbing the one bed that was on the ground and I was stuck with the loft bed, but I didn’t care and I still don’t. I wanted to be next to the window.
Right after my bags are down, my grandfather and aunt give me goodbye hugs. I say, “That’s it?” My grandfather chuckles and replies, “Yeah, we’ve got to get back on the road.” Aunt Monica adds, “Yeah I’ve gotta pick up the kids.” I was a little hurt. I ask for money. They give me what they have in their pockets. I can’t even remember how much it was but I don’t think it was any more than 20 bucks. God I was broke that semester. I walk them downstairs and watch them drive away, fighting back tears.
I won’t bore you with the rest of that story, but the point is, I’ve come a long way. I have two more weeks of summer in Boston and I’m ready to get back to my AU routine: school, school, school, work, work, work, smokey, smokey, smokaayyyy. ¡TRUCHA!
And by ‘smokey’ I do mean the bear.
So yesterday, Yini read my horoscope twice from different magazines and both said that “things might spark up with an old friend.” The first time I said “whatever.” After reading the second, I raised my eyebrow and said “hmm.” I think I just figured it out. It’s Holden. I’m rereading The Catcher in the Rye and I really do love him all over again.
I write you from Panera bread, Fenway, Boston being all schwanky and shit. I was really craving the tuna and I know Panera has free wifi, so I decided to pop a squat. ::I just paused for like 20 seconds cuz I’m listening to Nas’ “It Ain’t Hard to Tell.” This is one of my favorite songs so I can only concentrate during the little chorus bit:: My brain should be locked in a cell.. it ain’t hard to tell…. Dayum! Thieves in the Night by Black Star just came on. I really shouldn’t write to my “Serious Hip Hop” Playlist. It’s soooo dope. Like for real. I can’t function while it’s playing. Anyways… I’m proud of myself. I’m always going on about doing shit by myself but somehow it never happens. This is cool. Granted I could be sitting in my apartment, in the room I occupy alone, but fuck it, I’m feeling the atmosphere.
Now, all was well until nature called. I had no idea of protocol for leaving things. So I held it… and held it. I looked around at a few people while I considered asking them to watch my stuff. They looked like nice people, but if something were to happen to this fancy fucking Macbook that cost me my whole life’s savings, heads will roll. So I packed up my shit, went to the bathroom, and sat back down. A slight hassle, but what are you gonna do?
New issue, I have to go again. Damn my small badder! Ahhhh! This time I’m waiting until it’s time to go.
I’m listening to “Hollywood Divorce” now. You know you want this playlist.
Last thought:
I just listened to that Heartbreak Drake 2 Mixtape. As I eluded to earlier in this post, I cannot read or think critically while listening to good music, especially hip hop. Mostly because intricate lyrics impress me. I work to decipher and learn. While listening to that mixtape, I read the NY Times… Besides that “I’m Going In” song, not enthused. At best, it’s good background music, which should never describe good hip hop. Sorry fans (I know there’s like a boatload of you), just my opinion.
I’m off to see Bruno.
C.R.E.A.M.,
B
(Not really, I think… I hope, I’m listening to the song.)
My brain is pretty unresponsive right now, but I feel the need to update. So I’ll give you this Not-So-Poem I wrote a while back:
Think you’ve been walked on, ran over, stomped?
Ever kissed any ass?
Try being grass.
Thank you.
PS
Today, I was walking and I thought of an awesome password with letters, numbers, and symbols. I thought, “When I enter this the next time I need a new password, it’s gonna be strong.”
Word…
I tried to think of a cool title for this post. Then it hit me: Exodus. I thought, what does Jesus have that I don’t? OK, he’s got magic powers. So what. I read palms.
I also searched Exodus on Wikipedia. It recaps the entire book rather concisely. Anyone who has tried to read the bible starting from page one (ME) knows how boring it is. Bible sparknotes are way better.
Anyways… Here goes my version of a facebook quiz:
Which Bible Character would you be?
Pontius Pilate
“OK. So we know you aren’t mean enough to kill Jesus, but stop giving him a hard time!”
Who would be Jesus? Michael Jackson. Now that mother fucker was persecuted! Now, I could list several metaphorical reasons why Michael Jackson wins this quiz but I’ll just say this: his father’s name was Joseph. I win.
You know those movies that begin with a girl going about her daily routine while, through voice-over, she narrates the happenings along with her random stream of consciousness?
Welcome
PS
I’ll try my best not to be too ironic all the time. But fuck it. I’m pretty damn ironic.
I also wanted to tell you that I am currently listening to “Yesterday” by The Beatles. But I’m not anymore. Beatles’ songs are really short.
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