The patterns of Verbal arguing are starting to become increasingly humorous to me. First both parties get pissed off at something (Verbal), and then trying desperately to act logical, start to look crazy. If youre too logical, you get delusional (A delusion is a belief held with strong conviction despite superior evidence to the contrary. As a pathology, it is distinct from a belief based on false or incomplete information, confabulation, dogma, illusion, or other effects of perception.) and start getting hysteria (People who are “hysterical” often lose self-control due to an overwhelming fear that “something bad could happen” that involved some sort of severe conflict. The fear can be centered on a body part, or most commonly, on an imagined problem.). So then if you’re too sure of yourself, you make the other person depressed. If your neutral, youre emotionally withdrawn.
This Language is fragmented and corrupted. And since thought can fragment and corrupt language, language can therefore fragment and corrupt thought; too often do we use how we feel after arguing as the measure of how we feel and what to think next. Language, which I think can be a very helpful and even powerful tool, is distracting when it comes to matters of the heart/instincts. In fact, i think we’re so used to living based on Verbal communication that we actually move further away from the truth.
If left to, human beings of the 21st century will TALK their way out of happiness.
Enjoying watching a concert of misfortunate events happen to me this week. Yes, things are finally at their boiling point, forcing me to change, strengthen and fortify my resolve and fine-tune my projects and schedules. My welcome at my mothers house is now overstayed and I dont know if I have the proper attitude to inherit this as a “fun part of the adventure,” but I guess I will.
22 year old black vegetarian artist and rapper, on the verge of houselessness, with no one to put faith in except my art? How can things get any more exciting than that? I should now act with more fearlessness and independance. I have nothing to lose so… why should I hesitate anymore?
I was so hoping that I could put this unstable lifestyle behind me when I got back from California. I was in fact planning to settle down with a pretty girl, find a family to do art with and study. I let my impenetrable guard down. And now I cant quite get it back up at a time when i need it most.
It seems i’d be in a better position if I stopped letting people commandeer me; telling me what I should do; as if I dont know my own thoughts or have no instincts of my own. Its only my fault though, I picked up the nasty habit of ignoring my instinct. Now im at the mercy of which way the wind blows… which has helped me to conform and be more socially acceptable and adult and therefore gives me a little direction (job hunt, house hunt, get food stamps, get health insurance, etc.) doesnt much help with soul searching. Now that I think about it… conforming has made me extremely lazy and easily bruised… I dont have the balls to do what I want, how I want, when I want anymore. I’m dependant on the kindness of others for food and shelter. And when they grow bored or tired of me or if I finally decide to act “out of order” they tell me to go away and I get discombobulated for weeks.
This isnt the path.
Black/Under-Privelage: Survival Mode
Im starting, only barely, only marginally, to come to the painful realization of why I am “so talented” (they tell me) and yet have nothing to show for it. It is inversely related to and in consequence to my socioeconomic class, income and therefore access to the resources and clean creative space, time and air I have. And somehow, there is a psychological conditioning to go with that poverty level lifestyle of mine.
Since I live in poverty, and really, always have but, never knew as a child, pre-teen, teenager, young adult, legal adult or 22 year old, what that meant or what that meant in relation to anything, I’ve noticed that it’s incredibly incredibly hard to “finish that book”, “start writing that movie”, “write songs for leisure”, “start making jewelry”, “study the connection between buddhism and kemet”, “apply for health insurance downtown so I can make some appointments”, “practice for that rap battle”, “save money” etc. etc. etc.
There is only enough time and energy for me to survive, and struggle through each week. Meanwhile, the body in survival mode is not advantageous to a mind trying to get OUT of survival mode and furthermore “create great works of art.” Instead I suffer from high levels of anxiety, frequent burnouts, eating everything in sight, easily distracted meditations and more. And this diagnosis is only 5% of a more horrible consequence that I currently do not have knowledge about enough to EXPLAIN it or its cyclic/cancerous nature, let alone STOP it.
To better paint my point I was going to go through a catalog of someone more privelaged than I, but instead offer a quote from Malcolm X i believe:
“If you want to show a person theyre drinking from a dirty glass, put a clean one next to it.”
Im not sure where to go from here. Do I deduce the “what if’s” of being more creative if I had more money? Do I continue to assess my physical/mental and spiritual condition? Maybe I spend the next paragraph fantasizing about what I would do once out of this “Survival Mode” they call it; what that looks like.
I would have a paying career made out of both activist work and artist work both of which allow me to travel the country/countries and meet new people in a way that feeds the soul like a bucket list would. I would have a crew of friends that I could organize potlucks and hangouts and movie nights with. I would have my own place or shared place with a roommate of my choosing, far away from the woman and man who birthed me 22 years ago. And I would eat good food with a healthy fitness/sleep schedule.
I wonder if I can imagine my way out of poverty/suffocation..
Without Next Steps, My Creativity has no direction
I can sense that the next thing I need to do is create a reason to create again. I forgot why I used to rhyme when i was a teenager, but it was most likely used to escape something. Nowadays, I write in my rhymebook maybe once every 2 months? Not that this post is just about writers block, but intuitively figuring out the “next step”. Yes on instinct.
Something tells me that if I create a potluck next week and find myself surrounded by the new friends, I’ll have receive my next focus and the fire needed to commit to housing/roommate, job and performance equipment hunting.
Dont be clingy, Dumbass
The downside to being strong is that no one seems to be there for me when im weak. Its as if I wear an emotion on my sleeve that is so ugly that no one wants to look at me being sad. Or maybe my behavior just isnt very fashionable like one of those “that is so 2006” sweaters. I guess “not-looking-weak” is the “new black” or something.
“Im not your savior”, my girlfriend writes me in a note.
She was worried about my clingy behavior last weekend. Thoughts expressed about codependancy. More concerns expressed at my orbiting her when I have other friends in a “Im not here to deal with your personal problems” kind of way. Saying nothing, I thought to myself in response to her “well… sometimes I get sad.”
After that, I spent the rest of the weekend brainstorming very severely on someone who fits a category very specific: I thought “who do I know that I trust, now?” I sat still in a very intense quietness by myself for 2 days trying to match a face with someone who I can talk to about my hidden sadness. No men came to mind. No women came to mind either. It was then I came to the conclusion how many relationships exist only because im of service, or entertaining; people like my funny, or my wisdom, or my strength but, if i should my weather ever change, I notice that folks become very “seasonal” with me.
There I was feeling dumb because I couldnt think of anyone who would acknowledge my melancholy without judging me. or becoming distant with one of those “hope things work out for ya” hugs with the little hand tap on the back. But I made up my mind not to whine about it.
Im entertaining the thought of not “clinging” to people when Im down because its the coldest logic I could come up with. And I thought I might go on cold hard logic because that seems to be the common rule of engagement here in the 21st Century. And if its not a form of “fuck the world” (which it is) I guess I wont show too much attraction/dependancy when im in high spirits either. That is, if i want to avoid being the embarrasingly vulnerable one when im feeling vulnerable or embarassed.
Hungry/Satisfied - Stay Awake
After a long April I’ve finally reconditioned and refocused onto a healthy artist’s schedule and goal list: Not too many commitments, Not too many girlfriends, not too many sleepovers, not too many skipped meals. I listen to music regularly and I workout and drink tea and meditate. You just can’t beat that.
The goal now is to get my first book published and on shelves, write another book and a film, assemble a (productive) crew; make some new friends and write a dope ass rap album. Though clearly I need to get a job of some sort. I had an interview the other day and told my brother about it. He said “you should’nt do that, your gonna be making sandwhiches day in and day out? you’re gonna get tired of that in a week… your setting yourself up basically unless youre just hungry like that. Hungry for the money.”
I thought he had a good point.
"Even if you took millions and millions of pills from the film Limitless, you still couldn’t think of shit that’s this ill!"
Dizaster vs Canibus
"We can’t jump off bridges anymore because our iPhones will get ruined. We can’t take skinny dips in the ocean, because there’s no service on the beach and adventures aren’t real unless they’re on Instagram. Technology has doomed the spontaneity of adventure and we’re helping destroy it every time we Google, check-in, and hashtag."
Jeremy Glass, We Can’t Get Lost Anymore (via wendesgray)
Knowone Was Here
Knowone Was Here