#(homies in the book club got this shit for free but I still have 5 essays inside me)
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Alright white queer website - if you spent money on House in the Cerulean Sea then I challenge you to give money to the people whose story TJ Klune woobiefied and made about a white savior and oppressed magic:
National Indian Child Welfare Association
First Nations Development Institute
Association on American Indian Affairs
Native American Disability Law Center
Native American Rights Fund
Native American College Fund
#tj klune#house in the cerulean sea#personally - I really like NICWA and give monthly to them#I will not discuss this book further without being paid for my trouble / emotional labor#ko-fi.com/junipernoon#(homies in the book club got this shit for free but I still have 5 essays inside me)
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Part 1: Chapter 1
Year: May 10th 2006
(So everything happens fast because each chapter is leading up to present day) The story starts with Omari, Ace and Jade, they are not the only main characters throughout the story I will introduce the rest in total it should be 6 POVS this was really hard to write cause I have so many 1st chapter drafts. Idk if I wanted to do a book about the past or both)
Omari: age 21
“(Georgia), We on the grind in (Georgia), All the time it isn’t nothing on my mind but (Georgia) We ain’t playing with ya (Georgia)” Georgia by Ludacris played in my car as we rode through the west side. It was just me, my mama, and my brother. My daddy died when I was 7, my mom was still pregnant with my brother Ace. We live in the worst projects on our side of town Wood Ridge. Niggas always get killed and robbed over here. I pulled up at the Citgo, my brother Ace hopped out. “Yo wassup O” A nigga I knew named Shy. “Wazzam Shy” I said dapping him up. “You still looking for work?” He asked. I nodded. “Something like that, what’s up?” I asked. He pointed over to a man in a Hummer H2, with the windows down. Money in The Bank” By Lil Scrappy in his car. “Yo I heard about him, niggas scared of him” I said to him. He waved me over to follow him to the car. “What’s up D, this is O. He looking for a job” He told him. The light skin dude with tats on his neck looked over at me. He looked me over one good time before turning down his music. “You need money huh?” He asked. I looked around my surroundings. “Yeah, uh we bout to get evicted and shit, and My mama struggling right now” I told him. He nodded. “You got a phone?” He asked. I nodded pulling out my Nokia. He slid up my screen to get to the key pad. He then passed me my phone back. “Holla at me around 6pm and Ima make something shake for you” He told me before rolling up his window. I looked at the phone. I see the name Demetri in my phone. I was walking back to my car when I see Ace sitting on the hood of my car talking to some bitch. “Yeah, you fine as hell shawty, let you up sometime” He said. She blushed. “Aight, Ima give you my number but if you going to call, call at 9 pm that’s when my minutes is free” She said. He nodded and let her put her number in his Metro Phone. I slapped the back of his head. “Nigga get the fuck in my car and stop fucking with these hoes” I told him laughing at how mad he got. Ace had a bad temper. Mama say he get it from Our father. We pulled up and the apartments. Bitches was already fighting outside in the parking lot. “Beat her ass Kita” Her friend yelled. Ace squinted his eyes and his eyes got big, he hopped out the car and ran over to the girls fighting. It was his friend Jade. “Aye nah yall chill” He said pushing the girls off. He grabbed Jade. “Nah uh Ace that bitch deserve to get her ass beat for fucking my nigga” She yelled. Jade spit blood on her air forces. “Bitch I told you your man and I aint fuck, he tried to get in my pants and I said no” She stressed. I shook my head and walked into the house. My mama Traci was on the couch watching Maury. I kissed her on the cheek. “Hey mama” I said to her. She nodded. “Where’s Ace?” She asked. “He outside with Jade” I told her. She sucked her teeth in. “Her auntie been running her mouth about that girl, saying she be fucking the whole apartments” My mama told me. “Anyways, I got a job. I mean I think I got one” I told her. She smiled and looked over at me. “That’s good baby, what is it?” She asked. I shrugged. “I got to call and see” I said. She nodded. Ace busted in the house with Jade. “Aye, boy what is wrong with you coming in here like that!” Mama yelled. He grabbed Jade hand and brought her into the bathroom. My mama shook her head. I stood by the bathroom door. Ace was cleaning off Jade. She had blood coming out her nose and a cut near her eye brow, and her eye was swollen. “You need to learn how to fight and stop letting these hoes jump on you shawty, better start clocking them hoes with a motherfucking bottle or something” I told Jade. “I told her to start carrying a knife, so she can gut them hoes” Ace said. I shook my head. Nigga was ruthless for no reason. I walked into my room and went to my stereo. I went through my CD’s I burned. I put the cd in the player and pressed play. “Créme de la créme homie, Top Shelf ya know. I like my beat down low down low down low down low, I like my top led back led back led back” T.I - “Top Back” blasted through my speakers. I grabbed my car magazine, took a pen and begin circling the cars I planned on getting when I get some big money. My Nokia started ringing. I looked at my caller id, it was my little shawty Jalissa. “What up Girl?” I asked. I heard her giggle on the phone. “O, you busy later?” She asked. I sat up on my bed. “Nah, why what’s up you trying to kick it?” I asked. She hesitated. “Something like that, T.I movie ATL just came out and I want to know if you trying to see it with me, maybe at Starlight on Moreland it starts at 10:15pm?” She asked. I smiled, I knew what she was getting at. “Sure, Ima pull up around 9, maybe we can get some snacks and some shit” I told her. I could hear her smile through the phone. “Aight bet” I looked at the time. It was 5:57. I started dialing Demetri’s number. “Yo who is this?” He answered. “This O from the gas station, I asked you about a job” I said. “Aight Ima call you back”. He hung up. I then got a call from another phone number. “Hello?” I asked. “What’s up O, rule # 1 the feds always watching so never call me about business or call anyone on your actual phone, Ima give you a phone when I see you, meet me tomorrow @ 12pm Ima send you my address” He said then hung up.
Ace: age 15
“Why you let the hoes talk shit about you?” I asked her. She was sitting at my desk at my computer. She was adding music to her Myspace. “They say
He do a little this
He do a little that
He always in trouble (and I heard)
He ain’t nothin’ but a pimp
He’s done a lot of chicks
He’s always in the club (and they say)”
“So, what?” by Field Mob played from her page. She shrugged. “Nobody going to believe me anyways”. I looked over at her. “So, you don’t be fucking these niggas?” I asked. She turned and looked at me. “No, why would you even ask me that, them bitches be lying. Niggas always trying to get in my pants. Even grown ass men” She said looking at me like she regretted what she said. “Forget I said that” She said. “Why do you even care?”. I shrugged. “I mean, I don’t if you did but like you kind like my little sister so I want to know”. I said. She rolled her eyes. “Sister?” She asked. I nodded. “Yeah like I got to protect you, and shit” I said. She sucked her teeth in. “I don’t need your protection Ace, I can protect myself” She said. She got up and put on her shoes. “Well you the one always knocking on my window at damn random times of the night needing a place to sleep, like you ain’t got your own” I said to her. She pushed me out the way. I balled my fist up. I had a bad temper, and she knew it but when it came to her, I never showed her that side. “What you going to hit me?” She said she was holding back watery eyes. “Go ahead, I’m used to it” She said. I looked at her wondering who was hitting on her. Was she talking about fighting? “Thanks for having me over Ms. Traci” I heard her say before the door shut to the front door. I debated on going after her, but I didn’t. I looked through my contacts. I remember the girl from at the gas station. “Hey baby girl what’s up?” I asked. “Who is this?” She asked. “You forgot about me that fast baby, its Ace” I said. I heard her smile. “Ohhh yeah, Ace. You want to kick it right now? My mama ain’t home” She said. I got up slowly. “Oh, for real?” I asked. “Yeah, Ima send you my address. I live at the apartments right across from the gas station” She said. “Okay Ima slide through” I hung up the phone. “Hey mama I’ll be back Ima go to my friend Raheem house” I told her. She nodded. I went outside and started walking to the gas station it wasn’t too far from my house like a 30min walk. “Ace where you headed?” My homie Calvin said pulling up beside me. “To this bitch house” I told him. He nodded. “Get in folk, I take you” He said. I nodded. I looked at his outfit he had on all purple. “Where you headed looking like a got damn grape Fanta?” I asked. He laughed. “Man, this my colors” he said. “What you down or something?” I asked. He nodded “Yeah I’m down with Westside 5” He told me. I nodded. “Oh, for real, uh congrats I guess” I said laughing. He laughed. “Man, you goofy as fuck, but fuck with us though we always need new people” He told pulling into the apartments. I dapped him up as he stopped. “Thanks, Patna” He nodded. I walked up to shawty complex. Before I could even knock, she opened the door. She had nothing but a T-shirt on. “Took you long enough nigga” She said grabbing my shirt.
I pulled up my pants and buckled my belt. “So, my mama going to be gone, around this time every Friday” She said. I smiled and nodded. “What school you go to I ain’t never seen you around” I said. She smiled. “I go to Jefferson Highschool, what about you?” She asked. I started laughing. “How old you is?” I asked. She was putting on her bra. “17, how old are you?” She asked. I smiled big as fuck. “I’m 15” I told her. She shook her head. “Boy you look 18, dang you must be in what 8th grade?” She asked. I nodded. “Yeahh you can be my cuddy buddy, you ain’t old enough to be my man” She said. I sucked my teeth in. “I aint gon hold you I just wanted to fuck, but Ima fuck with you” I grabbed my phone and dipped. It was about 8:12 when I checked my phone. Shit I got to walk by the crackheads and the dope boys just to get home. “Aye yo little nigga you down?” Some nigga asked me as I walked by. “Down for what?” I asked. “I seen you riding with Cal, he one of us” They said. I noticed they had on purple. “Man, I ain’t trying to bang” I told them. “You see all the nice shit we got man we can get you some money for real nigga” I noticed the cars they were next to and shit. I nodded. “Okay what I got to do?” I asked. “This”. Next thing I know these niggas start beating my ass.
Jade: age 14
I was sitting on the stairway near our apartment writing music in my journal like I normally did listening to Ashanti and Lloyd “Southside” on my CD Player. “Jade get yo dumb ass in here” My aunt Felicia said. I sighed and walked inside. I closed the door and went into my room. “It’s almost the end of the school year. You got what 2 weeks left before summer vacation. It’s about time you get a damn job and start paying rent around here, you got to earn your keep. Ain’t bout to live up in here rent free” She said in the door way. I scoffed at her. “I’m 14, I can’t legally get a job until I’m 16 that’s not fair” I stressed. She put her finger in my face. “I started working for my foster mother at age 12, she used to sell me for $50, and I would get 10%. So, if I can do it so can you, and what the fuck happened to yo got damn face” She said. I looked at her. “I got into a fight with this girl” She shook her head. “What you do now fuck her man, you just like your mama” She said. I sighed. “No and Why didn’t you just let foster care take me!” I yelled. She grabbed my arm. “I did you a favor, Me and your mama bounced from foster care to foster care. She begged me to never let them take you, so I took you in after her stupid crack head ass ran off. That’s least I could do for her after she fucked my man and had you” She said. I started tearing up, I tried to snatch my arm away from her. She pushed me on to the bed. “Like I said you have 2 weeks or Ima let your ass go” She said. She slammed my door. I hated my life; my life didn’t used to be like this. I had two parents a mother and a father. My dad used to be there all the time and then one day he just wasn’t. My mama couldn’t take the pain of him leaving so she got hooked on drugs when I was 5. She been clean off and on when my dad was around but when he left it got worse. My aunt to eventually take me in before foster care put me in the system because My mama had left me in the house one day when her and her boyfriend James was cooking crack on the stove. My house caught on fire while I was sleep. I ain’t seen my mama since that day. I decided to write in my journal again, that was my haven, writing and listening to music. “My Life” By Mary J. Blige played on my stereo as I cried. My Aunt Felicia busted into my room. “Get yo ass up and come eat and stop blasting music in my house” She said. I wiped my tears and went to go sit down at the table. It was Kraft mac n cheese and hot dogs cut up in it. My Aunts boyfriend Rodney sat down with two bags of McDonalds and they started eating. My aunt either cooked me this or beanie weenies, Ramon noodles with hot dogs or sometimes just some bread and butter. I kept my head down while I ate my food. “Jade clean this shit up while I’m gone. I want all that food gone by the time I get home or Ima beat your ass” She said. I nodded. She went over to Rodney, practically sucking his face off before she left. He got up and locked the door. He pulled out an apple pie out his bag. “Got you something sweet, sweetness” He told me. He slid it to me. Rodney was always nice to me but I knew something about him wasn’t right. “Thanks” I said. He sat in the chair next to me. “You know you are very pretty” He told me. I nodded. I got up quickly, as he grabbed my arm back over to him. “I ain’t going to hurt you”. He said. “Sit on my lap” He said. “No!” I yelled as he tried to get me to sit on his lap. I got my arm lose and ran to my room. I closed my door and locked it. I grabbed some clothes put it in my school bag and slid my window open. Rodney burst into my room. I quickly jumped onto the ac unit under my window. I ran to the other side of the complex, I seen Niggas was playing dice in the stair way as I walked to Ace complex. “What’s good lil mama you tryna sell some ass?” I heard. I shook my head. I got to Ace building and walked to the side of it. I tapped on his window. I ain’t see no movement. I tapped again. “So, you back?” I heard a voice behind me. It was Ace. It was dark, so I couldn’t see his face very good. He came over to his window and did something to it and it slid open and climbed inside slowly. He was wincing like he was in pain. I followed him soon after. “If I ain’t home and you need a place to lay your head just lift up the screen and slide. O taught me that trick” He turned on his light and I see his face. He eye was swollen, and his lip was bug as hell. He was limping around. I walked over to him. “Ace you okay?” I asked. He nodded. “I’m part of Westside 5 now” He said smiling with his teeth bleeding. He held up a shirt and a bandana. I shook my head at him. “You stupid, you got jumped in?” I asked. He nodded. “Yeah but they make hella money” I kept shaking my head. “You stupid as hell Ace” I told him. He sucked his teeth in. “Why you over here anyways?” He asked. I shrugged. “Cause I hate it at my aunts house” I told him. “She be hitting you?” He asked. I shrugged. “Sometimes, she said I got to get a job soon” I said. “I think she want me to sell my ass” I told him. He was in his boxers looking at me. “She got me fucked up, I ain’t bout to let you do that. I got you man. I’m get you some money” He said. He threw me a shirt and some boxers. “Well maybe I can get jumped in” I said. He limped over to me grabbing me. “Don’t say shit like that” He said. We looked at each other for a minute. “I’m just playing sorry” I went into the bathroom in the hall way to change. When I came back in the room. Ace was icing his face. I shut the door and went to lay down on the bed. “As long as I’m here I got you J” He said. I nodded. I put my headphones on and listened to my cd I had burned. “Nobody going to love me better, I must stick with you forever, nobody going to take me higher, I must stick with you. You know how to appreciate me, I must stick with you my baby. Nobody ever made me feel this way, I must stick with you” I was feeling the lyrics of the Pussycat dolls. I started writing in my journal.
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13 reasons why.
I just finished the Netflix's show "13 Reasons Why", after spending the past two days literally doing nothing with my free time but watching it.
This show, based on a book series, caught my attention (and so many of my friends) for being one of the most realistic, hurtful, ugly portrait of what having emotional and mental issues can do to you. What people can do to you. What men can do to women.
One of my best friends told me she couldn't keep watching, because it brought up things that she buried inside herself a long time ago. Another friend told me he would feel anxious everytime he tried to watch it. Many others told me they got their mental illness smashed on their faces within every episode. And I lost count on how many tweets, reviews and facebook posts I read where girls would share their deepest traumas regarding sexual abuse and slut-shaming and how the show opened up those wounds a little bit, all over again.
As for myself... I try to not talk about my personal life, and specially about my past, on social media. Or in life, to be fair. I always divert attention to other situations, maybe social interactions, maybe other people, so I can avoid talking about me. I might even pretend to talk about myself a lot - without actually telling you anything that matters. I'll talk about my exchange program, I'll talk about my travels, my music, my make up; I might even talk about my religion or even some of my friends. But, in the end of the day, I didn't said anything about myself, really.
My point with this is, first of it all, to take some weight out of my chest. To make my mind a little lighter than it's been, to maybe get someone who is going through shit (or put someone through shit) to understand how everything can change and how much small things can affect you while growing up.
Or maybe, if you can relate to any of this, you'll feel like you're not alone.
I wanna try and discuss a few of the topics that the tv show approached, and how it affected me and might be affecting people you know or even yourself.
Today's subject will be sexism, the rape culture and the slut-shaming shit we face everyday, regardless where you live in this world.
Let's start saying that if you're a male, when it comes to the sexual part of this, you won't ever understand. Not completely. But I appreciate you're trying.
EVERY girl has been put through some kind of abuse, at some point of her life. I know I did.
I was the girl who wanted to grow up really fast. I had more boyfriends than I could count, I made out with people I don't even know the name. I was the 15 year old kid dating a 23 year old guy. Guys, actually. I lost count on how many older dudes I dated between my 15 and 17 years. That's not only pathetic, it's fucking revolting that I had male adults all over me when I literally just got out of middle school. As you can imagine, none of this turned out that well. I was a child. I was imature, I had no idea of who I truly was and I had no idea on how I should be treated. I let men, full bearded men, take advantage of me (and i'm not even talking strictly about sex here), but to influence on how I grew up.
I grew up with this fucked up sense of needing a male to be by my side or else I would be meaningless. I thought I was weak, dependent. Older males. Adult males taking advantage of a fucked up teenager. They made me believe I was their property. They made me believe I was nothing without them. That this messed up sense of protection was all I needed to be happy. And let me tell you this: some of those guys now play on some of your favorite bands and preach about respect on stage.
So, to all of the guys who walked in my life at that time: I hope you understand that what you were doing was abuse. That I was a fucking girl thinking I was a woman. Who thought it was awesome to have a 20-something boyfriend to tell my friends how cool I was. I didn't knew any better, BUT YOU DID. You were the adult and you should have walked away.
And to all the creeps in their 20s (or over) who think it's okay to flirt, interact or actually date an underage girl: I hope you understand you're a scumbag. And honestly, just to think about all that shit makes me want to throw up.
------
Still in the subject abuse, now let's talk about rape, about consent. I was lucky enough this one never happened to me, but it did happened to more than one of my closest friends, and to a extremely close family member.
And this haunts them every single day.
They were blamed for their own abuse, they were laughed at, slut-shamed. They had to hear that if they didn't drink that night, it wouldn't happened. If they wouldn't walking by themselves at night, they wouldn't have been abused. That maybe they should have dressed better if they didn't wanted male attention. This is no news to you, i'm pretty sure. I'm 100% sure you heard all of this kind of shit, if you didn't said it yourself.
I just want to tell you that this moment, those five, ten minutes where those girls were being abused, they marked them forever. They changed because of that. Some of them could never get close to a man again in their lives. Some of them have nightmares about being raped again, some of them lost the support of their families, some of them lost their loved ones. All because one guy couldn't understand the concept of NO. Because that one guy couldn't accept the fact that they didn't wanted him. Because the couldn't control himself. Or because he didn't cared. Because they, my friends and my family, weren't people to his eyes at that moment - they were a thing; a piece of meat.
You know, I never been raped and I thank God everyday for it. But I've been abused in so many other ways. I've been touched against my will, I've been forced kissed, I've been chased on the street, I've been pulled by my hair in the middle of clubs, I've been cat called, I've been stalked, I've been sent many unrequested dick pics, I've been threatened to have my private pictures leaked. I almost got thrown in a car by four guys when I was only 14, while I went to one of my school friend's house, literally 5 minutes away. I was wearing my school uniform, which was an oversized tee and boy shorts. Was I "asking for it"? Was my way to dress to provocative to those pervs? I've been called a whore, i've been called a slut, I've been called crazy, I've been called easy. The most recent one is that I post sexy pictures because I seek male attention and that "isn't that what I wanted?" when I got unrequested nudes. Oh, also that i'm a "homie hopping whore", because I liked some pictures on the instagram account that happens to be friends with a guy I went out last year.
My point here: if you're a girl, i'm pretty sure you've been through some sort of situation like that before. You might be going through it right now. That shouldn't be a routine, this shouldn't be normal.
If I didn't had the right people coming to my life, I would never understand how strong I really am, who I really am; I would never be independent and well resolved with my own terms. And more important of it all: that what people did to me, what I believed it was just fine, was completely wrong. And how that made my life as a teenager so much harder than it needed to be.
On the show, Hannah (the main character) commits suicide after being cyberbullied, slut-shamed, objectified and, ultimately, raped. But this is a tv show, right? But I'll get you wondering... How many real Hannah's are out there? How many young girls gave up their lives over unkind words, over mean comments, over being violated? How many girls had their feelings - and their bodies - so hurt that they decided to stop all that by opening their wrists, hanging out their bedroom ceilings, jumping off buildings? How many cis, trans, old, young, black, white, rich, poor girls were so emotionally and psychologically destroyed that their thought that suicide was their only option?
Think about it. Do your research.
Your words, your attitudes, showing your support to friends and people you might not even know can change their whole life. It can be the difference between another day at school or a funeral next morning. It can change the mind of a girl who thought she was nothing more than a piece of meat to actually realizes that she's worth something. That she has more to offer than her body. It can build up or completely destroy someone's self-esteem and the way they cope with daily struggles. Your words and your attitudes can stop your friend from taking advantage of that drunk girl at the party, or to get justice for a victim. It can help your "bros" to understand what's right and what's wrong.
You have no fucking clue on what's happening on someone's life, so be kind. Be patient. Be respectful. Don't cover up for sexist, predatory attitudes. Don't judge, don't blame the victims. Be there for them.
#13reasonswhy#thirteen reasons why#13 reasons why#hannah baker#clay jensen#liberty high#netflix#depression#suicide#sexism#abuse#you're not alone#alone#broken
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2017 Journal Wrap Up
Decided to compile some of the most prominent thoughts of the year into one place to get a full look at how my thoughts evolved over time, while also pushing myself to continue this. it’s dope being able to see your own growth so tangibly.
January
· How are you doing?
Where are you going?
When are you growing?
What are you saying?
Who are you being?
Why are you creating?
· I did not come to teach you / I came to love you / love will teach you
· It’s easier to raise great children than it is to repair broken parents. But both are hard as hell.
· Now can we fall in love with southernplayalistic bangin through the night? At least we fell in love with something greater than debating suicide
· Family has taught and continues to teach me so much in the love and light of their company. I have learned most of all the power of peace. The power in community, how it builds for calm unity
· “they won’t love you in boston like we do”
· What we need are two lists. On the left side: This Is What Matters To Me. On the right side: This Is How I Spend My Time. In the middle, one resolution: to make the right side align with the left.
· Peacock told me he loved me
· "the difference between the successful man and the mediocre one is as simple as golf. If a mediocre man goes golfing and hits the ball into the pond, he immediately picks up his club and starts yelling blaming it. If a successful man does the same thing, he simply grabs another ball and tries again. Its that ability to bounce back" – Benoit
· Talking about our parents and their lack of ability to understand a lot of mental and emotional health issues they've caused. "because they live on survival mode, and react by reflex. Like if someone punches towards you, you flinch. That’s how they live their lives. If someone punches towards me, I don’t flinch because experience in karate has taught me that you're too far to do anything to me." our reflexes evolve with our experiences.
· And just like that I left for boston, he left for Hong Kong, and we’d see when the world brought us together again. Although we are both travelling, flying, free souls, we are never fleeting.
· “At some point, you gotta decide for yourself who you gonn be”
February
· Bonds are elastic, allowing for molecules to vibrate with each other
· It's like everyone's driving in one direction on the street and there's another road on the ceiling. And you're hanging from the car on the ceiling touching the people below you and there's the pressure of falling down into the bustle of the crowd below. So you've gotta figure out how to flip yourself upside down so you're in the driver's seat and driving in your own direction without the fear of falling. Until you flip your perception on its head you'll be stuck in the same position.
· People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own soul at the end of the day. Remember that.
· I continuously find myself surrounded by great people that push me and help me grow. Challenge me and believe in me in the same breath. It’s beautiful but it also comes with a certain pressure. Pressure to not let them down, while also uplifting yourself.
· Work on this book, Gesi.
· I’d rather die of passion than boredom
· I don’t want to be famous, I just want my work to be.
· Thank god, thank self for growth. For finally loving who I’m becoming, finally becoming who I’ve always wanted to be.
· Art and love are the same things. Both grant us the potential to conceive monsters, or to breathe tranquility. It's all there.
When they don't love you the way you want to, you mourn that for however long you need to. But then you get back up and you remind yourself: you are not a reflection of the people who can't love you.
· I have come to know far too well the tug-of-war that exists between what is important to me and what is important to the rest of the world, and the friction that may cause.
· Which do you want: the pain of staying where you are, or the pain of growth?
· I have to fight for this. Art is the weapon
· “I’m tryna get like you” “I’m tryna get back like me too”
· I read something about how raids are going on in Brooklyn for immigrants. I started crying.
· Curated and ran A Day Without Immigrants. In a matter of 5 hours I was able to mobilize a campus wide event. In the midst of classes and meetings all day. This is what activism, passion, and sacrifice looks like. I am so very proud of you, Gesi. And I love you always for being able to channel your energy in the way that you do. Keep grinding. Keep pushing. Keep creating. You are powerful.
· Vision keeps growing clearer but I keep losing focus. Gotta change my lens maybe.
· “I see you changing your M.O. – Mode of Operation”
· Clear vision. Positive thoughts. Positive actions.
· Don’t let your hometown limit you.
March
· Sometimes you realize things about the people you love that you wish you hadn't. you realize that they're not as strong as or as caring as you think they are. They're not as innocent as your love for them makes them seem. They're glamorous and complicated and cold. Sometimes the people you love don't love you back, or they don't know how to tell you they do. Love feels so young, so reckless and so blinding. Yet it can be so futile, so restless, and so binding. I wonder if it will ever stop feeling this way.
· Don’t have other people believe in your journey more than you do.
· This above all else: to thine own self be true.
· I really don’t care about most things or people but I’m also not inconsiderate
· Tumbled out of space / crawled out the sea / it’s just love / boundlessly
· I kick it with my soulmates. All my homies reflect my soul in different forms
· Mind processes through entrance, experience, evaluation
· “On the NYC boardwalk” piece, later named The Roughest Kind of Gentle
· Doesn’t complain so she must not feel pain. Lol
· “jealous of your confidence”
· Do something once a day to remind this city why the hell you’re here
· “never fuck someone you wouldn’t wanna be tho”
· 2 of my friends dropped clothing lines this month, 1 dropped a book and a clothing line, and anotha one is launching next month! Support your friends in their endeavors!! Support them the way you support big name brands that don’t even know ya name. be their biggest fans first! The people I surround myself with motivate me daily to keep pushing and growing. Peace & love.
· I’m here physically. But my heart and soul are restlessly elsewhere.
· Need to be stronger. Somefuckinghow.
· Energy circulates. Tap into your network
She said I seek true intimacy in my relationships, to have someone want to know and understand me while wanting to know and understand them. As well as being intellectually challenged
Traced back my pattern in relationships with men and people in my life to how I used to do so much for my parents. How I've always bore so much responsibility and so little choices. And how they've relied on me for so much growing up that it's become habitual to help people almost instinctively.
· Went to ahzeme’s the other night. So as it turns out, he’s been in a relationship this whole time and has been cheating with me. Why would you ever put me in a position like this without my consent.
o One thing I will not have is you having me out here looking stupid. “who’d I make you look stupid in front of?” “myself. And that’s all that matters.”
o “because I feel like I can rely on you for anything. I know you’ll always be there and try to understand and help.”
· “thank you for growing and still tryna be a good person regardless of how people treat you”
· Isn’t it funny how people always love a free spirit until that spirit actually seeks to be free?
· She has her mother’s quiet
· Don’t hang out with people who make you justify your vibe. Black holes don’t give light back.
· You don't want people to understand it you want them to wonder how the fuck you're making it work. And you carry on. And you fucking be great – Skepta
· Trippy. Intimate. Beautiful.
· I want me first and foremost, and nobody else.
And sometimes I keep my feelings to myself because I can find no language to express them in.
Because no matter where you run, you end up running into yourself. Remember that
Keep my best work on top of me at all times to remind myself what I'm capable of
April
· Guys kept following me and pri. Guy tried to put a curse on me at pizzeria. Guy threw a sandwich at me mike and alozie lmaoooooo
· Impact investment
· Stop going through the motions and start moving.
· Don’t nobody ask me for no more parts of me.
· Another kid on campus committed suicide today. It's crazy the dark spaces this school and its environment can drive people into.
My daddy taught me how to drink my pain away. My daddy taught me how to leave somebody. My daddy taught me you don't need nobody
And I aint never felt no way bout this life shit do or die
Lost my god tonight?
· All people are looking for is a trip in me
· Life feels like a constant state of sobering up for other people. You're always on this higher journey. And others are disruptions that you get carried away in
· The world operates on energy. You attract
· I have always been too intense for others.
· Rumeer trusts me enough to rest. And because he trusts me I feel like I have to look after him
· I wanted to write but I just felt so much. That’s why you write. Because we’ve all got stories to tell, but how many of us will write the book?
· I’m not angry because I take the time to understand things and people.
· My mind is a web.
· The situation with tommy reminded me of _______
· It’s my job to create spaces where people can trip out in each other and their own creativity
· "if there's ever a problem and I film it, it's no longer a problem. It's a film" - andy Warhol
· i am of those women who keeps the shame our mothers braided into our hair
proudly wears the guilt they have sewn into the very fiber of our being
i mean i get it,
the culture should have overpowered any foolish desire i may have had
even if this foolish desire is love.
i get it,
ignorance should have desiccated any feeling out of my blood and turned my body to salt
to by washed away by these other men
these more acceptable men
i get it,
my heartstrings are healing and you wanted to ask the doctor to take reign of them once again,
because some self proclaimed doctor told you this intermingling of races is an illness
so you can't believe the miracle happening in front of you,
proclaim it a chronic illness,
wonder how long it'll last before it kills you
i mean me.
she asks me where this fear stems from.
where this guilt grows from.
you see, when every part of your identity is not represented in your culture
you become a latchkey child of the cosmos
when everything you do is a disappointment to those that created you
you run for cover,
hide every piece of you they wouldn't want to discover
let fear and guilt grow inwardly and hover
let that become your lover.
because you never know what the last string may be.
and you know all too well
how disappointment can sometimes smother love
so i am of those women that hides behind love like fake innocence.
approach every situation with ambivalence
but it's hard when you see this fighting for love as militant
don't you know you raised a soldier?
don't you know she's only grown bolder?
don't you know as much as this love is militant, it is just as much imminent?
just as much limitless, just as much divine.
and so,
if all you see is race
Then I guess we'll see you at the finish line.
May
· 3:03 am just watched Mustang. Very emotional. Hit even closer to home than I expected. Need to watch with significant other one day to show them the things I can’t explain about my upbringing
· I’ve been thinking of Albania a lot lately
· I think of home and my tongue tangos with exhaustion.
· He is truly one of the most beautiful pure souls I have ever come across.
there you are. moonbeams and madness. sunshine and chaos. how did they ever let you not love yourself? i remember the hidden logs, hushed and griping beneath your energetic body as you squirmed and squealed your way atop mountains, atop sins, atop convictions. the rocks barely able to hold onto your soul, so they kept a piece of your skin to remember you by each time you passed them. the way water wanted every part of you so badly it clung onto you hoping to fill your lungs with its presence each time you stepped in it. nature wanted to be a part of you as much as you wanted to be a part of it. just before you fell and drank all of the water from the Red Sea. Red from your skinned knees. i saw you drown and come back baptized. Young girl full of sassy sanctification, the water cycle churns inside your body since the moment you entered it, since the moment it entered you; do you weep still because no one seas you? there you are. i sea you, my dear gesea. waterfalls and wings. do you sea you yet? how did they ever let you not love yourself? do you finally?
· Everyday above ground is a good day
· We come from men who do not know when they were born
We come from women who do not know when they came alive
If they ever even did
They came together and had daughters full of all the misguided language.
· I know what it is like to not be from here, to not be from anywhere
So I make myself a home for these boys to grow into men here
· My blue passport makes me american but most days I don't feel it / in new york I am more ambiguous than I am american / in boston they think I am hispanic because of my accent and attitude
· I have enough pages to stitch them into wings
· "as an artist you have to keep reinventing yourself," he said. "in a marriage, you have to be consistent. It's difficult"
· We got that….silent and confused kinda love
· “when your boo is an artist, the visuals they can paint is insane”
· A genuine beautiful soul. A connection far beyond what I have experienced before. He brings out the childlike curiosity in me again. I want to learn everything about him and indulge in his interests while showing him my own. I want us to be our own people while understanding and loving each other's person.
· I have never believed in time, but I have always believed in your enabling of it / I have never believed in time but it tugs at my flesh, as I am reminded of how to love you from afar.
9:22 pm spines leaning into one another, skin symphonies, soft percussion sounds seem like silk as it cups us, encircles us, we will write love all over each other, how often will we write? In a circumference of pain, I think there is nothing else worth writing, worth loving.
· I don’t do this just because it’s fun. I do it because I can’t shake the feeling
And I think of how they think. How they want the earth to swallow them because they couldn't swallow the woman they wanted whole.
Te kendosh edhe te creosh
Ne qofte se nuk eshte cultura, nuk eshte kenga, nuk ke se ta shikosh dot veten
If there is no culture, no songs, you haven't got anything to look at yourself in
· And what is a black boy / but a spectacle / a shimmy and a shake / a shuck and a jive / a shackle and a cry / a black thing only alive to entertain
And what is a spectacle / but a lens / a glass to look both at and through / a perspective offered through transparency / a mirror that often wants to see other people / a lack of recognition of a reflection / a disheveled tornado dissipating right before your very eyes / an eye of a storm / an empty space filled with destroyed things
And what is a woman / but a bolt of lightning / a brilliant streak of light in the midst of a storm / a rippling silent strength / one just as powerful as thunder, without all the noise
And what is a man / but a striking of thunder / a booming voice in the sky / an accumulation of noise / always trying to be the most powerful one in the room / one that cuts silence like a knife
And what is a language / but a knife / a collection of different sizes, shards, and blades / a dual blade with a hardwood handle / its power coming from the tongue that it weighed / used to cut, create, destroy, build, spread, hunt, attack, collapse / a manifestation of thoughts made blade
And what is a thought but a string / a connection / a concoction of ideas held together by the balance of belief and knowledge / a steady stringing, building of connection
And what is a connection / but mist / intangibility felt / a fluidity that melts at hearts / at hands / an energy that demands
And what is love / but an energy / chaos turned benevolence / suns devouring forests / in growth and flourishment / one that starts at the self and spreads in nourishment
And what is energy / but the universe
And what are we / but the universe
June
· Making poetry people can forgive themselves to
· At what point do you realize your influence? Impact? How is this different from your worth?
· What is your soul food?
· I run my fingers through my hair, looking for the splitting end of a poem
· We clutch each other moreso out of the necessity for warmth than ever the desire for romance.
· This time bomb of youth
· Maybe there is no such thing as a country. Maybe there is just gutted land and sharp teeth that have torn at my flesh for so long I’m not exactly sure which wound is the one I belong to
· “no one ever taught us how to introduce ourselves…our parents accidentally made us emotionally impoverished. I think that’s the true lesson behind materialism: that you lose sight of emotional wealth in a very serious way that goes unnoticed.”
o And so we ain’t all grow up the same kinda poor.
· Anything you do, could fail. Everything you don’t, will.
· Consciousness is an unreliable narrator. It speaks endlessly. It comes with many voices. Not all are to be trusted. Consciousness comes with a person. or several. They all call themselves “self”. Not all are to be trusted.
· Be careful what you say in that it tells you what you think (of yourself).
· A lesson on empathy on the 2 train
· I’m strong. But I’m also more than strong. At times, I am weak and lonely and afraid and anxious and angry and silly and happy and defiant and bored. Sometimes, I don’t even know what I am, and sometimes I don’t know what I am in English – I can only explain it in a different language.
· Think I caught a vibe
· Poetet dhe vajzat e bukura, shpesh jane njerzit me t’vetmuar ne bote.
· “you will always be my beautiful blessing from the east. And you are still one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
· This book is really coming together.
· I wrote my heart in a poem. It made a home of itself there. It doesn't pay rent. It invites everyone over but takes up the whole room. There are bodies piled in here now, expecting, demanding a space in a heart that never belonged to them. This heart is a tricky thing. It gives and gives itself to everyone but still stands alone. And all these bodies lay there, pounding to its very rhythm in hopes of catching it when it falls. But there is no room for falling. We are standing in the love we grant and give others everyday. It takes up the whole room. It grows too big for itself. It makes its way onto the pavement, breathes its fire into the city and wraps itself around it, taking everyone it once loved with it and made a home of itself there
July
· Did u get my vibes man? I’m thinking we are all going to be alright.
· I am my motherland free from bondage
· This is one of the hardest summers to date
· I know some things are better left unsaid and some people better left alone.
But I still pick up the phone.
· There’s a future version of me who’s proud I was strong enough
· All around there’s silence. Everyone decides for themselves whether that’s loneliness or freedom.
· Distance, too, is good.
Because you are far away
I feel you are very close to me.
Yes—
But what of proximity? Of union?
When you come near, then, my love, you are far away. – truth
· talking with mike about the concept of love. Love is an energy in that it can never be created or destroyed merely transformed into different forms for different people and things. Love is chaos turned benevolence. asked me to clarify. love, as an energy, when left untampered with exists in its purest form. but you take an energy and put it between two parties who each come with their own set of experiences, people, upbringings, pasts, etc. this turns it chaotic. but the benevolence comes in when we finally see this chaos as something beautiful.
so what is love in its purest form what does that look like?
honestly, self-love is i think the purest form of love.
so the goal of any love exchange or experience is to love the other person how you would love yourself; in this exchange you are treating someone as you would want to be treated and thus are showing them how you want to be loved and they in turn should do the same. this is the most ideal situation.
· And I think that's the really peculiar part about being in your own company is the urge to both stay and go.
The only thing separating me from becoming who I know I can and need to be is the hard work and dedication. When you really get that, I mean when you really see that Beyonce isn't unique, she just works hard; Steve Jobs isn't really unique, he just works hard, perhaps that is what makes them unique. What sets people apart is their hard work. Once you see that, you can be exactly who you want to be. I don't want people to be offended by my need for solitude. I just feel like I have to become what I am. And ever since I realized I can be exactly what I want to be, it has really shaken me. And I just can't go back to a time where I thought about anything but writing, anything but making myself to be human. And it's scary because once you know that you have to become this thing, it means that you're plagued with the voice of possible failure, but that voice is pushing you so loud that you can't betray your future self.
· I don't think I've ever felt more alone than I have these days. But I've also never loved it more, loved me more. I can't run away from this. I think oftentimes, that's what we do in times of loneliness, we automatically run from it and in an inability to escape, fill it. I plan on staying in this space for a while. I implore to explore it. But I think that's easy for me to say as someone who's never felt at home amongst other people. But it's still for everyone, this exploration of the self. Maybe I miss myself. Maybe I've missed myself this entire time. Truth is, I don't think I've ever truly met her before--myself. We've flirted a few times but I haven't taken her out to get to know her more until recently. I think I am trying to tell myself something even I don't know yet. But it sounds beautiful so far, from here. I plan on staying here for a while. Damn it feels good to bask in the glory of your own solitude. Kendrick had it right, this what god feel like. I think it is in these waking moments of solitude and silence that the self is born, discovered, and furthered. She is trying to push me deeper so I can be fully, wholeheartedly myself. And fall into the person I have always wanted to be. Thank God, thank Self for growth.
I guess I just never thought, believed, was never taught to believe I could be the one to do it. I guess it's because I could be the one to do it. I guess it's because I come from spaces that do not teach us we can be what we are meant to, want to, be. Only what they need us to be. I never believed in all my years and love of reading, that I could be the one to use language to craft pieces and experiences that evoke and provoke. I mean, it all started somewhere, right? People created languages out of nothing and gave them meaning. Shakespeare created his own language because the preexisting one wasn't fitting enough to convey what he wanted to express. And some call that ignorant and some call it creative, but regardless it worked for him. He did it because he felt he had to, to be able to go on. He created something out of a preexisting thing and gave it meaning. This is what it's all about, I think. It all boils down to creating your own rules. I come from such opposite cultures with different languages that my tongue needs new rules to express because these exist on opposite ends of a spectrum. The space in between all these differences is comprised of nothing. We must make something out of it and give it meaning.
· What motivates the artist?
What gives the artist her voice?
What gives the artist her courage?
Who/what gives the artist the will to create?
· But greatness, innovation, I do not believe these entities are entirely inspiration as they are digging-- digging both into one's craft and into one's self.
· Bless the child that can hold his own, flesh and bone
And no matter where I roam, I feel right at home, and that's the real shit
-xzibit
· Sins of a father make your life ten times harder
· Be the person you needed when you were younger
o When I was younger, I needed writers—authors, poets, artists, creatives—so I became just that.
· How can they crave the fire but fear the flame?
· You never know how many lives you impact by simply just being there.
Lesson: thoughts and feelings aren't everlasting but everchanging. Remember this next time you're beating yourself up over something.
I say “sometimes to drown is the water entering your body looking for a home”
And I notice so many men in my life washed ashore at my temples
If the body is a temple, why do they come here drowning in sin?
If the body is an ocean, why do they never learn how to swim?
· I put in my 10,000 hours and then some. I lived under a roof that didn’t support my craft for almost two decades. I wrote, at bare minimum, 200 words every day for the past three years. I still do. I featured in shows I didn’t pay a dime for and others that I invested a few dollars in. I put my money where my mouth is and supported nothing but artistry for years in college. I heard no and all of its echoes hundreds of times. I earned my yes’s. I sacrificed eating and sleeping for creating. I gave up just about every casual friendship because I didn’t have time to bullshit. I couldn’t cheat myself out of any possible opportunity. I’ve been to hell for this, and I’m almost back. If you overlook me now, you’re going to look foolish. I’m building something that will be here after I leave this place, and there’s space in it for all of you.
I love you.
-Ges
· 1st trip: discovery & purpose (DAMN.)
2nd trip: closure & arrival
· Today traveling is home base. But we knew this already.
· Fuck the lines. FUCK THE RULES.
· I haven’t slept all summer long.
· What is your vibe? What do you dedicate your vibe to?
· I am Durim. But in the best way possible. In all the ways you couldn’t be.
· And fuck fame that killed all my favorite artists. All my favorite artists (today) keep themselves out of the spotlight but make sure they’re not in the shadows.
· “you are just enough”
· Book is published. (07.27.17)
August
· Sitting in the airport with James Baldwin in my ears and in my bag, and my own book in my lap.
Being able to truly disconnect from a world I've known for so long is exciting me so much. I wanna disappear for a while, and need it now more than ever. I do what I need to do quietly and then make noise and dip. And I love living life this way; having no one know what I'm up to until I announce and release. It's great having people think you're up to nothing and then surprise them. Now for the next few weeks it's like I have to learn how to do things without thinking about social media. Without having my phone on me all the time, without all the constant pressure to post everything I'm doing and perform for an audience that's always watching your next move, I get to fully enjoy my time back home. get to fell the authenticity of all these moments of intimacy between myself and my motherland. It's been so long. We have so much to learn about each other still to this day. We have both changed so much. Even the journey here is the transition into the change in pace and lifestyle. While most flights are riddled and filled with reading and writing and constant productivity of sorts; the energy on this one is different. Watched the first season of Atlanta, let jazz sounds play in my ears as I drifted off into the sleep I haven't been able to get all summer, and rested for the first time in a while. Thought about how talented Donald Glover is, how he is an artist to the core of the word, to the core of his person. Always creating something new. And you don't always have to be doing the same thing forever. It's all about what we dedicate our vibe to. That was the lesson I took from my last trip as I embark upon this one. It's all about what we dedicate our vibe to. And that can be anything you put your mind to, you've just got to make the choice.
Albums that have defined my year: DAMN, At.Long.Last.A$AP, Blond
· For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m ready to go back home.
· This is to say, there are parts of you even in the places you no longer consider home.
How do you know somethings before you really even know them or are ready to? This kept tripping me out during my last trip. I would think I was realizing something new about myself or the world and then a random line of my poetry would pop in my head and I would understand my words, myself a bit better each time. And surprise myself.
And so I am awoken by a breathtaking view of stars covering the sky, blanketing over the mountains. A few hours later, the stars have faded, the sky lightened from its former pitch black, but still not light out, and I am awoken by the sounds of the rooster nearby. A call to the town to wake up and begin the simple life they have always known as theirs.
This is a beautiful place to grow up. But once you're grown, where do you go? (conversations with nuse lida)
And I wonder if there are any other artists here awake at this time. Up creating to their souls content at 5am. In the dark of course, hiding in the shadows under the stars. But they don't have time for creativity here, they need to survive. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only reason I'm still here.
I don't just do this because it's fun, I do it because I can't shake the feeling.
· A R T – Arrive Receive Transform
· I was going to write down all the realizations I had this summer as I had them and got worried due to lack of time. But then I realized, once you realize something, it’s yours and stays with you forever.
· I understand my gravitational energy better after watching my parents from afar.
· I listen so much more than I speak here
· This has been the most emotional trip of my life, for everyone.
September
Do you remember the last time you felt something for the last time?
Back on my "oh word that's ya energy?" shit again
I am tired of raising men and them then disrespecting me or acting like they don't wanna know me anymore.
Coming in with peaceful energy this year. It's interesting to see how we've all grown and how sometimes that makes people grow apart. I'm glad the people I keep close to me are always looking to grow and prosper and find inner peace. It's interesting how others switch up as soon as they've milked as much as they can/want out of you. I am currently on the journey of learning to not be salty and hold any hard feelings. He who acts, also bears the reaction they receive. I gotta continue to focus and grow while they continue sleepin on me. I promise you'll know about me one day and be mad you didn't earlier when you had the chance.
I no longer struggle with my mortality. It's like the homeless poet said to me "you can die tomorrow and be fine because you put something of yours into the earth. That's forever. You live forever in your creations" and I can't help but feel so much thinking about that. About how big that is. And I get so emotional. I've been thinking about death a lot lately. But I could really die anytime and be okay with that because I created and concreted my mark. And it's scary. And it's surreal. And it's beautiful.
And once again, I can't believe this is my life. Whenever I used to think of death before, I always wanted to be my own cause but was also too scared of myself and my potential to ever do something like that. Now, I know that my life is in my hands but I no longer want my death to be in my hands. And I'm no longer scared.
No fear, what's stopping me?
· Remember when you wanted what you currently have
· The rage you feel? Listen to me carefully. It’s a gift. Use it, but don’t let anyone see it.
· Support feels so beautiful. Wish I could feel it more often. Shit is breathtaking.
· What is a win? A small quiet life? How do you measure that? What does freedom look like?
· So yes…I’m really trying to write myself free.
· “I asked God for it. and I got back ‘are you sure? Ok. Just know everyone can’t go’”
· God willing. Your willing
I think this is what happened to me this summer. For the first time in my life, I was forced to face my pain in that I was finally processing and letting it go through the process of writing and knowing I was going to share with others, that I was going to articulate a pain that belonged to me and me only for so long, but that I knew also belonged to others, and that in releasing it out into the world I was freeing myself from it, and so many others. And so I felt it more than ever in such a short amount of time, even more than when it first pained me. And I think that is our jobs as artists, to mirror Toni Morrison's shared notion, to free ourselves through expression and in that process, free others. And this is the first time you truly see yourself. It's such a trippy, crazy feeling, really. After all these years of self-reflection, expression, feeling like you know yourself, growth, after all this time- to not have known yourself at all, to not have faced yourself once, to not have healed or freed yourself from all that weighs down on you, this is perhaps the hardest realization to swallow and address with yourself. To always wonder what it is to make yourself human, to think you are in the process of doing so your whole life, only to realize two decades later, you have just started.
· These people really think I give a fuck about the shit they give a fuck about. Just need a moment of silence. Just close ya fuckin mouth
"It's just that every time I hang out with you and I mean really spend time with you outside of just tryna get in your pants. When I really spend time with you, you fuck with me mentally. And idk no one else really does that to me.”
Rape is the reason I look at all men as sexual opportunities. My father is the reason I’m numb to it all. How the fuck do I combine the two in healing?
How do I disrupt an entire culture?
Growth doesn’t come in peace but for peace.
A lot of people hate me because I love them more than they love themselves.
I’m only out here just tryna impress myself now
October
· “life is a summary of your actions”
· It’s all about what you dedicate your vibe to
· “people are changing their perception of you quicker than you can process any of it” catch up and move accordingly
· People are really trying to fuck with my energy lately
· Art’repreneurship. I’m going to do this, with or without babson.
· Self-investment is the best investment
· I am an equation seeking its language, searching for its variables. I am steadily subtracting myself from situations, making alterations, building models, adding together messages I find at the bottom of empty bottles, dividing the self from multiplicitous absolutes, all while tracing my linear roots.
· Short films as a trend in music is something I’m really interested in exploring and studying more of.
I am grieving missing fatherhood for both myself and my father. And his father. Ain't that some shit. How does that not weigh down on you?
The way my parents view my creative career affects the way I live it in silence. I come from a family of silence, I was raised by it, and that's how I try to raise myself to the places I want to be. That's why I can't handle making too much noise at once- I have to disappear immediately. But this is where things conflict. I need to be heard, want to be heard, need to use my voice for the power it is, but every once in a while am reminded of how I never knew how to, forget how to.
How far can I go if every few months I have to act like it doesn't even exist? Like I don't even exist? What does that do to one's confidence? To one's faith? To one's drive? To one's dreams?
· The place in which I’ll fit will not exist unless I make it.
· “hopefully you can free me from this shit too”
· “you’re in charge of keeping me in control”
· “you might be just the right break I need to be quite honest”
· “do you think drugs is a party of every creative?” “I think creativity is drugs”
It's been two years without you gramps.
I can't believe I forgot your birthday. I can't believe I almost forgot about today. I can't believe I let myself get this wrapped up in this shit. Gotten so distracted from the real. Thank you for grounding me a bit more. For existing as you did. I'm gonna talk to dad today about you. I know he's still grieving every day. I know he's been crying today, in random spurs of moments. Like picking up a screwdriver at work and remembering your hunger for work, always finding something to do, to keep yourself occupied, to have something to work towards, something to look forward to. He's been crying for you all summer. He made you and grandma a beautiful grave, lemme tell you. Everyone is so proud of him. Hopefully, you are too. Have you ever been proud of him? I made that presentation of your life, and showed everyone. We had a big lunch for you. Everyone was so proud of me. For the first time. Your own daughters never knew you sang. Ain't that some shit? How we manage to live these secret parts of our lives. And how sometimes, those parts are our entire life's purpose. I don't know how much longer I can live in secrecy gramps. I also realize we come from a lineage of abandoned parenthood and missing fathers. I am grieving for myself, for my father, and for you too. And for who knows how many years. I wonder how much generational trauma you have passed down to me. This was such an emotional trip. The other day, we went apple picking and orjada asked "did we bring one for grandpa?" and we laughed but I'm not sure it was funny. More like, one of those uncomfortable wow laughs. Like a that’s so silly but goddamn. You're really gone. But always here. Always with us. I've never seen dad love someone as much as he loved you. It's touching to know he's capable of such. It's beautiful and hurtful to witness. It is so many things gramps. This was such an emotional trip. I don't think one day passed without seeing mom or dad cry. Yet, we still live such separate lives. And now, you're no longer living in this life at all. Is there another one after this? I don't know how many more I can handle. I can't believe there is ever a point of just resting and peace. I'm striving for peace more than happiness these days, I think it's a nice adjustment. I think it's a growth adjustment. You're in my book, gramps. I wrote a book, gramps. I published it. mom and dad don't know. And if you were here, you wouldn't either. But I'm just saying it out into the world hoping someone will be proud of me, even if it isn't in this life. How do I make them proud gramps? How do I not let it kill my spirit? Is this all even worth it? People ask me what's going on lately and I pretend to complain about all this shit that isn't even real, pretend to care about these mediocre people. But what's really killing me is this secret life gramps. And the fear of them ever finding out. The fear of losing another piece of family, even tho it wasn't quite there before. There's not a day that goes by without me thinking about it. I went home recently and realized I'm so far detached from that place. There's almost nothing that draws me back besides devin and orjada. Mom is begging us to get married, gramps. I don't know how to tell her no, I don't know, how marriage ain't for everybody, how I don't know if I'll ever be capable of loving someone like that, how I don't know if someone will ever be able to love me in my wholesomeness. She doesn't care. Said we need to celebrate the new house. The one you built with your bare hands. You were so smart. You were so wise. You were so hard-working. You were so respected. You were so loved. All of the above still stands true, years later. You made your mark on that village, in cities, in another country even. I can only hope to continue to draw it out. I'm so glad you finally got a chance to rest. I hope you're resting easy, gramps, still restless as always but more peaceful. Rest in full peace. I love you.
"There's something about making you smile and blush that gives me purpose. I definitely want to feel that for the rest of my life"
· How many soul do you touch a day?
· I wear my vibe on my sleeve
· F R E Q U E N C Y
· Free cash flow
Free bands flow
Free man know
Ain’t nothing free no mo’
· “I love you”
o Something beyond language but not beyond notice
November
· Energy doesn’t lie
· “you’ve got really great energy, you know that?” –from across the room
· You know who a man truly is once he doesn’t get what he wants
· Shared vibration / reincarnates conversations, maybe not had in this lifetime, but perhaps in another. Catch that feeling of familiar and let it uncover.
· It’s 4 am and I’m tired of men making me feel guilty for the shit they do. Or the way I choose to live my life.
· What’s a love poem but a pair of wings?
· Break often-- not like porcelain, but like waves. So when you think everything is crashing down, remember that a wave must crash before a new one develops and rises.
· Spirits doing this dance with one another and it feels like freedom
· Every day I eclipse the me of yesterday. We come to what seems like toward each other, only to realize one of us is further ahead than we may have realized and ultimately comes to the forefront of character until it outshines the other, completely.
Writing always works for me, even lifts me out of depressions. Because it is in writing that I (most) experience my autonomy, my strength, my not needing other people.
Lots of people will tell you how difficult it is to be an artist, but not many people will tell you how difficult it is to not be an artist.
· The men worry about her but she doesn’t stress any of them
· Never has a show exposed me as much as She’s Gotta Have It has. Came for my whole neck and then some.
· Content curation
When someone shows you who they are, believe them
December
· Fuller than the moon
· Been doing a journal exercise where I go back into older months and look at the questions I was asking myself. Rewriting them and answering them in separate entries. It’s been a really interesting way of measuring growth and how I now have answers to questions I was once asking, wondering when I’d have them.
· dancing vertigo around the centerline
i in my heart pour
too many people in line for the good life
too much aggression
40 degrees celsius (thats fuckin hot america)
my love for you is relative
i disappear and heal myself
i distance friends
i am a system to myself waking over gravity
i have loved and kept moving being a creature of the universe
whether that love loved me back or not
please expect nothing more
· i mount the dissonance and dissassociation of this reclining northern hemisphere
certain of pole position and retro slack
certain of a silk view off curled road
the sterilization of isms and academic smirks
the mocking pop of business suits on a tuesday
i am not seeking a theme
i am not a font
these lines are not abstractions but concrete bombardments you are passing to fast over
hold a minute and watch this slow smooth walking
perhaps you oughta learn something
hold a minute and feel this gushing miracle existing for itself alone
i am in a good mood among meaninglessness
what does that do for you?
· salvage my golden self and remind him hunting a vibe is something you can't discuss but if they cum while reading you, then fuck baby.
· “Ms. Universe Juice”
· “you’re a trippy person and people need something to trip out in”
· You’ve gotta be careful who you pretend to be before it becomes who you are.
· He tells me I remind him of his mother
Tells me he's never loved a woman like this since his mother
Tells me I remind him of her
Back home
Nothing but a trip away
It's not love that you're feeling darling,
it's a trip,
not a stay.
· He buries his face in my neck and tells me I smell like his mother
Like memories from his childhood
Like times where he used to be held
Like a time travel to simpler times
Asks me to take him there
Wonders if he could trip out on the trip there.
· You’ve got to be careful of the energy you carry with you. People always ask me why im so happy and shining and it's because the energy I carry with me everywhere I go affects everything and everyone around me; it affects the person who makes my coffee in the morning, it affects the person I walk by on my way to class, it affects my professor, it affects my friends and even strangers that watch from afar.
· I need someone to stick around past the initial excitement. To not get blinded, shocked by it and assume it’s only temporary. I am always true to myself. Just because it shocks you, just because you’re not used to it doesn’t stop me in the slightest.
· I need to be and feel like more than just a trip. Maybe this is the curse of being “too” independent. Whatever the fuck that is. No one ever sticks around for long/ long enough.
o “you’re like the freeist bird flying out here. I thought I could never get a hold of you”
· I don’t know what love is baby
So please don’t ask me now.
Love was a country he knew nothing about.
I don’t have the answers baby.
What you know about love? What love know about you?
Love knows me far better than I know it. perhaps because I haven’t taken the time and effort to get to know it really until recently. Much like myself. Perhaps that’s where all the answers lie—in myself. And we know this already. But how to dig deeply for answers within you, which you are too scared to face the questions of yet? But how else to go on? But what else is life, if not a constant state of searching, digging, discovering, only to question and dig deeper, in waves? If not a constant dissatisfaction with what already exists, a constant “but what else?” And what is the life of an artist but the constant reconfiguration of a frequency which seeks to create for the world, that which doesn’t already exist within it?
And so, what is the love of an artist but a constant rebirth of itself, the constant edits of a creation until it becomes an energy which satisfies both the artist and the world?
But isn’t energy always a changing force in our universe?
And so this, my dear, is why people are afraid to love artists. And though in denial, are even more terrified of an artist loving them with a never-ending, ever-lasting energy.
And yet, this is what makes my self-love so beautiful, so breathtaking, so exciting. I never know where this love will take me next. I am learning something new about myself every day. I learn by doing what I want and need to do to go on. And this going-on is what makes this love ongoing.
· I think there is no better timing in how I’ve read through Another Country.
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Let's Take Them To War
New Post has been published on http://purelyrics.net/lyrics/royce-da-59-lets-take-war/
Let's Take Them To War
–Part 1 – Moves Remix–
Yeah Yeah 808 Mafia
I’ve been had the moves (been had the moves) I got the moves since I got my studio (I got my studio) I got confused (Hella confused) I can’t figure out for the life of me how I can lose (How can I lose?) How I can lose? (how can I lose?) But I’ve been had moves (I got the moves)
I got I Decided on pre order, my lil homie just went gold I hock a loogie on a reporter, Detroit is on Pete Rose That’s arms strong on steroids, gated up no wing toes My phones blowing up so much a nigga may end up like Cee-Lo I bounce back like the fattest ass you can have attached to the fattest hips and anything after this shall be considered cataclysmic Countin’ packs like a statisician Emphatic charisma Savage enigma I have a religion to handle your rhythm like cannibalism The camera rollin’ and it’s time to flow I don’t know I just go carnival I’m from Motown you know I can just line up the hollow tips inside the clip And I can just go down the road And knock ’em down like some dominoes After you already out then I’m dropping some more like you 2Pac and the commandos Watching my comments like papparazi watching Sasha Obama grow I got Elijah Mohammed glow I got the dough these rappers claim they got at the house in my drawer in the envelope My focus phenomenal My temperature so hot and cold I broke the thermometer Guarantee I will kill the flow This remind me of LaLa Anthony ass in that New Edition movie Niggas tryin’ to cover it up and make her look old Guarantee I’m a still steal the show I been had the moves I remember these bitches was just a dream Actresses and models I used to only see on television Now they be climbin’ out of my television lookin’ at me to get the ring I remember all I used to be around is dudes that used to try to just kill by me Choppin’ and conceal bodies Used to clean up the bloody mess up in front of me I had to holla at a tube I had to still deal with that field sobriety Had to do a double take at the dirty mop when he was finished Looked like Lil Yachty Nigga, I went to jail for the whole year I got out and I did the same thing you wack ass rappers do when y’all got your little show here I came right out to booze Straight right out the news Right off the cover of a magazine Had the magazine with me at the club showing people like “Look at this and please try not to drool” I fuck a Stacy thick ass for all the days she used to make me work And Tracy slick ass but not before I fuck April first Translation I’m bout to fool Y’all countin’ me out well I got you 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, here I count for you Biiitch
Last time took an ‘L’, now it’s time to bounce back (I been had the moves) I was broke as hell, now it’s time to bounce back (I got the moves) Every time I fail I got up and bounced back (I been had the moves) And nothing y’all can tell me about that bounce back
Last time took an ‘L’, now it’s time to bounce back (I been had the moves) I was broke as hell, now it’s time to bounce back (I got the moves) Every time I fail I got up and bounced back (I been had the moves) And nothing y’all can tell me about that bounce back
–Part 2 – No Hook Remix–
I’m doing this cause this what God want me to do These lyrics is ordained by the Lord You gon’ get these bars For free
It’s bad half and finally famous The weapon’s Iranian Y’all niggas is Pomeranian My damie y’all Pootie Tang Nigga I’m Damien Shots drop from out of my cranium My mind is Lebron drainin’ em Five finger ring titanium Already in your top 5 Now my dingaling now dangling I’m flyer than Tom Chambers on the first NBA Live Double pumping from the three point NBA line On that war page with that 24 gauge But when I double pump it I’m prime Chamberlain Every track on the record got a background message “We don’t back down ever!” I’m putting the autobiographical book out with the Book of Ryan I just let my bitch in LA read, now that sounds epic My mind carries words You couldn’t walk a mile in my patent leather Larry Bird black con weapons I hope you know there’s more fish that’s in the sea I stole ya ho, we been kissing like we been sitting in a tree And these ho’s in Detroit be trickin’ sooo much They can completely gooo up a magician’s sleeve You’re totally awesome While I pour 40’s on corners for those we lost My soul suffers from holy exhaustion Trippin’ on opium just to cope with openin’ coffins The devil sittin’ close enough to me to quote me an offer Keep the union in unison like the Soviet’s marching We goin’ iron for iron like a trophy in golfing My nigga, better yet, I feel like the only man who can understand me is Sloth from The Goonies Cause he retarded as fuck, on a boat with a treasure chest That makes perfectly good sense That’s exactly how my career went Like a fuckin’ experiment I got a lot on my mind that I gotta deal with First of all, my favorite uncle died and favorite auntie died I missed both of they funerals fuckin’ around with rappers So every day and every night my conscience cries I’m stressed out because my moms be tired, pops be workin’ And Lord knows I done threw enough dollars on the floor in the past for moms to retire That’s why I be in the lab and my mind be wired Trying to figure it out fast before my time expires Man, but it’s this one thing that always on my fucking mind and it haunts me constantly guys And that’s why in the fuck have I not at least tried to get in between Ashanti’s thighs I’m feeling like a straight sucker I faced the vibration My sober, righteous life only got a place for my lady But maybe I can ask my lady for permission She can give me a hall pass like Jason Sudeikis This audio porn I’m giving with a bit of sense A mind fuck if you will I’m from Detroit but if I send you to the store with a large bill for some little shit Bitch, I was born by a river in a little tent Now I just ride with six vehicles with an ill tint I’m cut from the kind of cloth that’ll never go outta style With or without the internet my shit’ll still trend That’s why I’m still standing with everything I came with Cool as a Jacuzzi everything in me is built in Nah, I don’t borrow I’d rather discuss loaning I’m ready to go to war with whoever the fuck want it Y’all weigh your respect against your release date I’m just an artist dog I don’t know how to be fake I don’t want no problems dog I don’t wanna be apart of nothing with lies involved I don’t want no phone that receives a thousand calls I don’t need to be around a thousand smiling broads With they hands out Probably couldn’t survive without em all But they can’t vouch for who the next sucker
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