It has become abundantly clear to me that Alternative music is where one goes to find the truly deep and contemplative lyrics. Where R&B and Folky- type of Rock was the forerunner, each genre has fallen by the wayside and lost much of its integrity to vanity, anti-scoially conscious lyrics, poor writing and materialistic pursuits. The problem is, when we say alternative, alternative to what? I mean, that genre classification is just as ambiguous, if not more so than the "pop" genre.
Quite frankly, if it's played a great deal on the airwaves, it's technically pop, even though the content may be anything but. But alternative: Where are we going with this? The umbrella was too small to hold this big group of ever growing artists. I mean, the issue stems from how do you find an artist accessible if they are alternative and you don't listen to "alternative music". For example, Norah Jones swept the grammy’s with 5 for herself, and a total of 8 for the album. True, on the album, her voice is smoky, seductive and sultry…and her delivery is very jazzy. Lyrically, she’s nice as well; but, Fiona Apple kills virtually all her peers when it comes to lyric, and shorty was 16- 17 years old when she did her first album.
Don’t get it twisted, she got a lot of fans and put people in an uproar; but, had she been marketed differently, I’m sure she’d be a lot bigger. Norah probably has Fiona off the piano playing, and the voice is a throw up seeing as though hardly anybody sounds like their “studio voice” these days (Sleepy Brown sounds nowhere near what he does live as he does on wax).
Personally, I feel there’s a lot more originality in alternative music as a whole than there is in R&B. The problem is, there are too many damn people who are “alternative” to effectively stand out in the fray. So here’s a playful example of what I mean: Norah versus Fiona.

When you were younger (or maybe even now...for the big kids), what fantasy/ sci- fi movie did you want to be a part of? I wanted to be a black jedi knoght with his own Millenium Falcon. What cartoon/ comic book did you re-enact most often? Thundercats and Transformers were often acted out in the fresh underoos, and I was Spiderman crawling down my steps. No seriously, like Michael Jackson is Peter Pan, I was Spiderman. Y'know, get the walls that are close enough to scale up, then hang from the ceiling area as spiderman would? Of course, this would only happen when moms wasn't around. Oh, hahahaha, I also did the Fallguy thing for a bit to...you know, because the main charcter's real name was Lee Majors. I could do the fake fall from three- four steps up pretty damn well too.

Me jumping off my bed after school with imaginary sword in hand: "Thunder. Thunder. Thundercats...Hoooo!"

Stating the (Not-So) Obvious

If you watch that Michael Jackson special (that originally aired on Fox) I hear VH- 1 has been running into the ground, you may notice that Mike is wearing a wig. Not only that, but there’s a sharp complexion change right where his wig starts. Is Mike bald??? I don’t know, but cuz seems to have little to no hair when you really look.

Marvin Gaye is the illest! I was listening to a variety of Marvin’s body of work, when I came across the rendition of The Star Spangled Banner he did in ’83 at the NBA All- Star game. Son made the joint sexy. Never have I heard the national anthem sound sexy.

I told ya’ll back in 2002 that Twista was one of the greats in the Sound Committee’s list of the 15 greatest. Let’s see if my analysis holds up after this LP is on the market for a bit.

Aisha Tyler is damn sexy. I personally lost interest The 5th Wheel once she left. Although I didn’t miss the wardrobe they put on shorty. They seemed like they wanted her to be unattractive. Unfortunately, she is yet another would- be- wifey ™ that is red- shirted and ineligible due to marital status.

For those who do not know: Once Upon a Time in Mexico sucked! Do not spend your money on this DVD! Instead, you can cop the first two installment of the story in a double- pack for the same price. Yeah, yeah, Johhny Depp did his thing; but when does Johhny Depp not do his thing?

Charlize Theron is fly as hell. Wild she gets an oscar nod when she’s all made down…a la Monster. Shorty looked just like the lady she was portraying in the movie…scary resemblance.

The Rock is the next big action star. With Arnold becoming governor, and not having had a really good movie in ages…Vin Diesel’s acting ability and choice in scripts…and Sylvester Stallone refusing to let go of the tired gravelly mumble of Rocky/Rambo/Judge Dredd/Pick a Damn Movie…The Rock has absolutely no opposition. With a good debut in The Rundown, and a promising- looking follow up with Walking Tall due this spring, the Rock is set to be the next big kid on the block. It also doesn’t hurt that the Rock can actually act, which Arnold could never do and Vin can’t seem to do consistently (Stallone got an Oscar for Rocky I, and can act when he does straight up drama a la Copland).

Speaking of The Rundown; it featured my boy Ernie Reyes, Jr (the little kid in The Last Dragon & the 80’s tv show, Sidekicks) looking like ready to get back into Hollywood. Dunn may be able to give Jackie Chan and Jet Li a run for their money; son has always been nice with it. Since infancy son!

Wow.

Hey, check out the Mad Cow if you want a good laugh (Be careful if you're at work or around children though, this cow is mad as hell!).

Note for Bru, Joy & Lynn: Roland Powell has a comedy DVD dropping on January 29th called Dat Boy Funny. You thuggin’ and buggin’, put your hands on that!

Okay, I’m off tomorrow, but I can’t figure out what the hell I can do that’s constructive and inexpensive. Oh, dog, I’m broke as hell right now. To the point my next check is effectively spent already. Oh, it’s real right now, please believe it. Anywho, some random thoughts:

American Wedding; saw it this past weekend. Funny, although a bit drawn out and utterly predictable. Sean William Scott is a fool, man. He and Ashton Kutcher need to do another movie with a more intelligent script.

Marvin Gaye is still one of the illest! Marvin is one of the few that comfortably covers the entire gamut of subject matter- from spiritual to social to secular. I still remember the footage of his father being led away in handcuffs with the fisherman hat on that night, man.

Fellas, was watching VH1’s list of 100 hottest hotties, and Serena barely made the list. How unacceptable. Ladies, your boy Denzel didn’t even break the top 50, how does that make you feel?

Colin Quinn’s show on Comedy Central, The Tough Crowd is pretty damn funny. It’s basically a rehash of Bill Mauer’s Politically Incorrect, which is basically a comedic rehash of The Maclaughlin Group.

Okay, here’s a confession, I have nothing really to say right now. Oh, I actually did just write a new piece earlier today, so happy about that. I’ll have to drop it soon. Missing all the Java Heads, so who knows.

Yeah, I just saw this lady blatantly pick her draws out of her ass. On top of that, shorty turned around like she just ain't do it. How you gon power walk right after you just finished diggin' yo draws out yo liyyle ass lady? You know you wrong right...dead wrong. News flash: there is no art to ass-picking, and if there was, I'd never put it here because that would mean I'd at a minimum be knowledgable in the ass-picking arts, hence, there is no art to ass-picking. Wow. Smoothe just dug up her ass. Ummm, that is never sexy. There is no cool way to do that, and when you do, you will always come off as nasty. Just a little tip you can have in case you didn't know.

Okay, we have this thing at my job called “Wednesday’s Neighbor’s”. Now, this is basically an email that’s sent around our floor about every Wednesday, and in it is a bio and picture of one or two employees. Now, after the email is circulated, the bio (along with the picture) is posted in the community kitchen. Now, because mine was done so long ago, I kind of forget that I have one hanging in the kitchen. Of course, I had to big up the two sites I webmaster (this one and illpoets.com); the thing is, I forget that people actually read those things. I do. I may read one while I microwave my pop tarts in the morning, as we don’t have a toaster in the kitchen.
Why did I mention this? Well, a co-worker was nice enough to get me a book of American poets, knowing that I write poetry. The gesture left me speechless. Honestly, for the first five or six months, I kept my head in the sand, and didn’t really give anybody the benefit of the doubt. I’m the type to come in and work, then leave. Being sociable wasn’t one of my priorities. I did realize, after observing her from a distance (as I do with a lot of people), that the lady a nice person. However, all this meant was that I would go outside of my antisocial self and make sure I said goodbye in the evening…which is a stretch for me. I’d like to just come in and do my job. That’s me. Only job where I wasn’t on that tip hard, was when I was teaching.
So anyway, back to being speechless. The gesture, simple in nature…seems mind boggling to me. Here we are, two individuals that smile when we see each other in the hallway, yet haven’t conversed at great length on any occasion. It could mean that my poetry sucks, and she was trying to tell me what real poetry is (I don’t think that was it…just funny to think, though). It could also mean that she went to my site and was moved by my words.
And there it is. I never think about moving people with my words. I just perform, if that’s what you want to call it, simply so people will feel me. I write because I have to; performing is because I’m confident I’ll connect with that one individual, and they’ll feel me. Never thinking that when they do, they could be offended, inspired, breathless…moved. I always have this perception of who will “feel” my work, and who won’t.
So many folks have opinions of how my work is so good, but I just need to not use so much slang, or not curse, or something. It’s always something. This proves that you never know. You never know when someone is feeling you, on any level. I guess that’s why whatever you do, you have to do it fully. You can’t go about things half way. I think I need to refocus on this poetry thing, man. Too long have I allowed this writer’s block to control me; accepted it. Knowing that any day now…any day now it’ll go away. Yet it hasn’t gone away, it’s still here.
I feel good now, yet I feel guilty. I haven’t been drawing like I used to, over bullshit. There are so many things that I could be rich off of right now, yet I ain’t using them to advance myself, or my community right now. Novels that were started conceptually in the tenth grade, yet I only have ten pages written. Comic books and graphic novels to be drawn and written. Cartoons that need voices. SOngs and poems that haven't been written. I need to regroup.
................................................
I Am

I am not a slam artist
And to be perfectly honest
I’m sometimey with spoken word
But regardless of the aforementioned information
I am a poet
So my souls speaks three college ruled lines and phonetics forged with fabercastelle
Sometimes I do the slam thing well
Other times I’m frustrated by the entire process
So sometimes
I feel forced to write a clever piece instead of waiting for the words to come to me
So they don’t feel right once they’re released
Each poetry piece I speak bleeds from the deepest part of God’s mind
I am merely a vessel this is God’s design
I admit I’m blind
The only time I see clearly is when I’m creating art or when I ‘m writing poetry
I
Am flawed
I
Am a dog
And perhaps that’s because of all the times my hearts been scarred
So cynicism and sarcasm are my soul’s secrets service which explains why even those closest to my heart can’t break through my guard
I feel like I’m one tragedy away from losing it all
Collecting all of life’s stress with no one to call
So I walk with God
Which explains why when I’m spittin’ hard my eyes are closed
I’m reliving the moment when the words were given to me because when they were
My eyes were closed
Physically perceiving darkness
But my third iris knows
That the darkness we see is just the spiritual negative
Develop it and the truth’s exposed
So me not taking these snap shots would be a form of negligence
I’m submitting these intrinsic renderings as forensic evidence
So me winning slam’s equates to little or no relevance
Especially when my poetry relates mainly to poets and people with above- average intelligence
If there are five elements to poetry what am I
Half the reason I don’t slam is because of my damn pride
Fightin for a reason to be
I’m trying to believe that somebody in the audience needs to her my poetry
You don’t understand man, see this poetry helps me breathe
Although
Technically it’s not really mine
Most of my material was devised on high
I’m just the go to guy
With esteem so low I’d be willing to go to court to battle The Most for the copyright’s
Claiming ownership rights because I did the physical work when I testify
There’s a true difference between a stylist and a designer
The same difference between an anus and a vagina
So close, but worlds apart
I’m on the verge of taking back my art
Burying my heart like the covenant ark with no geographical charts or maps with ‘X’ marks
I am on the verge of never reciting my words
Only write when inspired or disturbed
Rewind Lee emotionally back to 1993
And that’s my word
My words speak without being spoken
So why speak?
The way lies come out of peoples mouths and stick to their teeth
I figure, why reach?
The word has been written
I never failed
In the library of congress my words are available in Braille
Proving that he who is blind can in fact lead those who see
I am about to take it back to me
No more bourgeois audiences and pretentious hoes
No more fake dudes at poetry shows
No more poets thinking they actually created them poems dolo
No more normal people with abnormal egos
I am this close to never spittin again
Just comin’ out on occasion to support my friends
I am this close
I am this close, ya’ll
And if I quit
Self- forgiveness is something I could eventually convince myself to do
But, my biggest fear,
Is not knowing whether or not
God
Will forgive me too

To the Independant Hetero who wrote a comment to my Justice League journal entry:
I see your point of view, but don't take it that deep. I personally like keeping some things ole skool, feel me? I didn't like the fact that Spider-man didn't make his web shooters in the movie. I do see your point, I guess she was eye candy. Hmmm, she was pretty useless prior to this incarnation of the Justice League. FYI, she did fight Superman, and at points whipped his ass; hence my tangent. It's just awkward. Superman is the strong guy who rules the air, Batman is the smart guy who works the ground, Aquaman is the sea guy, Wonder Woman was like the diplomat with ass-whipping capabilities. I don't know... It's just wierd seeing such drastic changes in her character, yet some others have had absolutely no (significant) changes whatsoever.

Know how you listen to something, and you're like, "This is dope!"? But, over time, you stop listening to it. It's been accepted as a classic recording in your culture, and you agree. However, it's been years now, and you take the album for granted...forget how much it applied and related to life. Yeah man, although it hasn't quite been years (it's been a while, though), that's how I feel right now about Goodie MoB's first LP, Soul Food. My goodness, The Dungeon Family was slayin' 'em man. Listening to this LP right now makes that World Party LP hurt that much more. I don't even know if I finished listening to it. I think I did, and actually tried to force myself to dig it, but couldn't. Soul Food, now that's a true hip hop CD. What LP's have you dug through the crates and revisited lately?

For some reason, I was pontificating the changes made to Wonder Woman on the new Justice League series (actually, it’s been on for a few years now). I mean, my only real beef is that they just went over board with this new incarnation of Wonder Woman. Now, she can actually trade blows with Superman, and she can fly! Wonder Woman can’t fly! That’s why she had the invisible plane folks!
Then I thought about it: Dude, why would you even want an invisible plane? It’s not like you can leave it on the runway, something would hit it. Imagine getting drunk at a party and forgetting where you parked that bitch. SUppose the other folks at the Justice League decide to move that joint as a prank...oh, she's pissed! What if you want to put it on auto pilot and get your hump on, passer's by will see you. At the super hero awards, you gon' lose that joint once they valet park it. I mean, honestly, in retrospect, the plane being invisible was one of the dumbest ideas. There she was, sitting on air. I mean, what’s the point if she ain’t invisible, too?! Dog, you mean to tell me that the plane could cloak the seats and the control panel (which I’m sure you’d need to see at some point to judge, I don’t know…speed and altitude!), but you can’t cloak the pilot?
Under that premise, what happens when you have to go to the bathroom? Ewwwww.
Okay, so now the only ones who can’t fly are the Flash and Batman. But, the Flash can frickin’ run up the side of the empire state building if he wanted to. Poor Batman, the brainiest of them all, yet no powers. I mean, Wonder Woman should never be able to whip Superman’s ass. It’s just not right. Not that I care, because I think Superman is kinda corny; but I digress. Wonder Woman wasn’t all extra strong on the TV show, but she worked the hell out of those armlets and that lasso, didn’t she fellas. Shit, I wouldn’t mind being tied up by Wonder Woman...in her hey day. And Aquaman, who before could only swim really fast and talk to the fishes (Italian joke, folks, I know I spelled it wrong), now Aquaman is perhaps more gangsta than Batman himself. Nah, no one in the DC universe is more gangsta than Batman…but Aquaman is still ji’ raw in the cartoon. However, despite the fact Wonder Woman shoulders are broader than Batman’s, The Justice League is still a brolic cartoon, or some may say, animated series.

“That’s not your mother man, it’s a man baby…well, you have to admit, she does look quite mannish” ~ Austin “Danger” Powers from Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery

Pet Peeve #849: When people ask you a line of questions that need explanations, yet repeatedly cut you off before you can thoroughly explain. "If you'd let me talk and shut your yap, I could have answered your question ten minutes ago".

Welcome to another installment of the exclusive Leethepoet.com tangent series (insert dramatic dun dun dun dunnn sound here):
(In your best echoish sci- fi booming voice...) You May Be Ghetto If...
People...You May Be Ghetto If... : You named your son Lil' Dre, and/or your daughter Cafeteria (All jokes aside, I have a friend who's a social worker, she saw the actual birth certificates).
(Applause and Laughter)
Thank you thank you thank you...please join us next week for another exciting and original installment of...
You May Be Ghetto If...

I’m supposed to be starting my “training” for the slam scene. Basically, I’m supposed to start memorizing pieces so I can go out and slam. For those that know me, I really have a problem/ beef with the politics revolving around slamming.. Just too many factors in the competitive poetry arena; but I told myself I was going to get over it and do it anyway. If I’m going to wear the label of a poet, then I need to embrace the culture that is such a big part of it now. Have I actually been training though? Hell no. I’ve been doing everything but training. On top of that, I have to write a poem for this film I’m going to be in, but haven’t started that yet. I’m slacking. I never slack…well, not with things I’ve committed to. I don’t know, the last few weeks I’ve found it hard to get going in the morning, hitting the snooze button repeatedly before I get up for work. Drowsy in the morning hours and dazed in the afternoon; maybe I need to take some vitamins or something.
I might start trying caffeine, although caffeine never really worked for me. There was this one time though, at band camp (sorry, couldn’t resist), when I had two small cups of coffee and some Dunkin Donuts in the wee hours of the morning. Every time I started to drift off to slip, my body would start shaking uncontrollably, and my teeth would start chattering. Heart racing, I thought to myself, “So, this is what a crack-head must feel like, huh?” Even now, my mind is still mush, not totally, but still struggling for coherence.
Pet Peeve #1910: I hate when people stand over me while I work, as if they are going to do something. It’s annoying, so just tell me what you need and be out. Unless of course I invite you to sit there over my shoulder…but, whatever.
Hey, I added a new feature to the journal…you can comment on the journal without going to the message/bored? Now. Of course, the message/bored? Is still in effect, but now, you have another option.
So sleepy…they need to have nap time for adults. That was the best part of pre-school, nap time. Maybe I can get my George Castanza on and build a bungalow underneath my desk. Actually, I’d need an office for that.
Happy Birthday Hollywood…you getting’ old punk!
Pet Peeve #1911: People who walk in groups in public at a slower pace than typical pedestrian traffic, yet prevent you from being able to get around them i.e. narrow sidewalks, cars, oncoming pedestrian traffic, etc. If ya'll going to talk @ .5 miles per hour, then just stop and talk so I can get to where I'm going!
Why the hell did Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie have a reunion special on Fox last night?
Why the hell do I know their names.
Honestly ya’ll, I ain’t even gon’ front, I watched the show a couple of times. Nicole is way more of an ass than Paris, but their both spoiled little so- and- so’s.
Reality TV: is it a drug?
I often watch it and say to myself, “This is the real world? That would never happen.” Seven strangers from completely different backgrounds not only work, but live together? C’mon folks. Last night, one of the white girls, have to mention race, crossed the line when she dropped the “N” bomb (now you see why I mentioned race?). I think her name is Robyn, or something like that… The black dude handled the situation…okay, but I woulda had to school them jokers. Actually, I may have acted an ass, so I really can’t speak on it. But the significance of that word, what it means, meant and how it has been historically used wasn’t even addressed. Shit, even Boston Public encouraged folks to go pick up a book or two after they did a show regarding that particular word. I’m ji’ upset about that.
The 10 Spot on MTV needs to be the 9 Spot, I gotta go to bed, and ya’ll put on your best programming between 10- 12. What type of bu’sh is that?!
Officially a fan of the big booty girl with the striped poom-poom shorts in the most recent Sean Paul video, “I’m Still in Love With You”…My…goodness! She may be giving Ki Toy from Big Boi’s “I Like the Way You Move” video a run for her money in the booty department.
Is there anything more sensual/ sexy than a big body gal who knows how to dance to dancehall music? Geesh!

Prelude
The P.O.P., for it men have fought wars, taken what wasn’t theirs and made it yours, conquered distant nations and unbelievable odds ratios just for a little fellatio. Woman, if ye are not gods, than what be. Womb likened to that of the cosmos, this universes life energy. Truly, you are greater than even you know.
.............................................................

Many people have speculated on the relationship between my best friend Lynn and I for years. If I had a dollar for every joke, comment, inquiry and assumption about us that has been vocalized, I guess we’d have enough for a hell of a wedding, huh? Did he just say that…? Shut up and read.

Many swear that we are a couple, not understanding that we do sometimes bump heads, we do sometimes beef and disagree…we are human. Shit, I know every damn thing there is to know (a characteristic of many Virgo's), and she can be stubborn as hell…damn Capricorn’s will be stubborn even when they know they’re dead wrong. However, we have never been on the outs with one another for more than 48 hours, simply because we genuinely enjoy each other’s company so much. Simply because, when the chips are down, she’s one of the people I can count on to ride or die the most in this life, and I know she feels the same about me.
I think I know why Lynn and I are so cool. I mean, any positive/good friendship should involve meaningful communication, the ability to share thoughts, sentiments…words. Lynn and I do that, but we have become quite adept at sharing silence, too. That to me is beautiful. Shit, to say that I enjoy your company so much, I can travel just to sit in your presence…that means something. Yet another reason why I think I’ve been off the scene so much lately. These days, it feels like a laundry list of reasons, all of them valid, yet quirky. I find that guys can sit in each others company and communicate primarily through gestures, guttural sounds and grunts for hours, yet there is no miscommunication. You want some chips, you grunt “Aargh” as you point towards the chips. No need to spoil the game with words other than utterances of profanity when disagreeing with the referees. And I have that type of relationship with Lynn, who just happens to be a woman, which I happens to be more at ease with.
Seriously, I was raised primarily in my mother’s household, and grew up observing/ wanting my sister’s friends, all of which were fine. Damn, my sister kept some good looking friends, boy. So being as though I’ve been into the opposite sex since pre-school, even had a girlfriend in pre-school and kindergarten (still think that boys believing girls are yucky is a myth perpetuated by Hollywood because they think it’s cute), I eventually learned to shut up and just go with the flow. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy talking with people I know, it’s just sometimes I just want to be…quiet. For Lynn to not get upset and assume I’m in a foul mood every time I go into my quiet phase, means a lot to me. I can be funny, or thoughtful, or whatever…just in my own way.
For example, anyone who truly knows Drew “The Brokeballer” Anderson, they know he can go from talkative to deep thought, or vice versa, in a matter of minutes. Some people may be bothered by this, I actually had a friend who was slightly put off (at first) by the "Quiet Drew"; but, I understand. Especially being an artist, thoughts and ideas…inspiration can come at any time. As an artist, we have accepted the duty of listening to those inner voices, even if they come at inopportune moments. They may come when you’re dog-tired, working, whenever… So to have somebody close to you that’s generally unassuming is a beautiful thing, especially when they have your best interests at heart.
So to answer everybody once more, “No, Lynn and I are not together”. However, I do recognize the issues that creates. For one, I personally haven’t felt the desire to get in a relationship with anybody, mainly because of my relationship with Lynn. I see how that can be a problem since I have a very amiable and flirtatious nature around women. Mix that with the fact I don’t know when women are digging me, and it can be quite (un)funny when it blows up in my face. I’ve learned that most women go out of their way to ask about Lynn, even when they don’t particularly know Lynn (which to me is weird). Actually, what it really is, is respect. “So, how’s Lynn doing…what’s Lynn doing…where is she…word, can I come over?”. And I understand the logic, believe me I do. Gotta put the feelers out there, see what’s up. But perhaps there is wisdom within the logic. “Why would I not be with Lynn?”
Well, in recent entries, I have addressed relationship issues, commitment issues, love issues, oh, and she’s my best frickin’ friend! I’ll tell anybody quick, Lynn is my heart, but I couldn’t do anything short of marry somebody like Lynn, as she has been such a big part of my growth and development over the years…or at least there to monitor, measure, and witness it. But, I ain’t thinkin’ about marriage at this stage in my life, at least seriously. And the only thing more serious than “Til’ death do you part”, is death! How the fuck I look dating my best friend?! Shit, everything you do in terms of dating, minus sex (pervs), we already do. Me and Lynn’s Grandma are hella cool (Granma is truly off the hook), and my father will speak to Lynn before he speaks to me. Our families are crazy about the other…if that makes sense; Her family loves me, mine loves her.
Do I feel a way for Lynn…yes. However, I also feel I should be a best-selling author, but haven’t made a serious commitment to making that happen. And what are feelings without true commitment? I think the dictionary defines them as emotions, which are in turn fleeting. Sentiments are lasting…unfading, like my sentiments towards G Dubya (take that Amy :o)). Not saying I don’t have a great deal of warm sentiment’s for her, don’t be silly (even I know it's obvious)…it’s just my feelings toward s commitment with anybody change from day to day. For someone, who loves so easily, I have made it a business to distrust my heart on matters regarding love. Ironically, my dick has more say, historically that is, than my heart on matters of love and lust. Even now, old emotions have been aroused in me, thoughts of responsibility and sensibility sweeping over me, estimating the varying probabilities of each equation ending in a dissatisfactory manner. I find that many artists, perhaps people in general, pine about that which scares them the most. Even when they know it’s inevitable, or they want/need it…maybe love it?
Shoot, 2Pac talked about death so much because he was scared of it, yet he knew it was breathing down his neck. Loving life, he talked about death to perhaps become more comfortable with his own mortality. I am no different. Life breathing down my neck, I don’t want to make the wrong decision out of lust or haste, even worse, mistaking strong emotions for sentiments. I write about women so much because they fascinate me, intrigue me and in a way scare me. I know that in this life, my only real vice is women. I’ve (briefly) done the weed phase and outgrown it, I’ve done the liquor phase and outgrown it, and I ain’t crazy enough to do crack or no dumb shit like that…too sensible to smoke. All I have is women. My one weakness. My kryptonite. A pretty vixen can make me forget the king I am and have me playing the role of squire/ fool/ peon all at once.
How does one make a half-hearted commitment? I have feelings for so-and-so, yet, I do for blah-blah-blah, also…at least right now. And, blah-blah-blah is feeling me right now; wow. Ahhh, life is really getting interesting…

Life is good. Gotta always remind myself that it’s the little things to be thankful for. My holiday season started off with a bang when I beat a $100 parking ticket…at DC adjudication I might add! Christmas eve, got the call that all is well with the blood work I had done; had to make sure I didn’t have diabetes…all is well on that front. Had my big screen delivered, 53 inches of electronic relaxation…yeah baby!! Then, all the time with family. Realized how many youngyin’s we have in my family, whoah! My cousin Jason and I are the last stronghold, man. Everybody else has kids damn near. Was able to bless my family with gifts, despite being strapped for money (the big screen was purchased through a lot of “love donations” and careful financial planning).
Christmas eve also meant something else…getting other results. Let me preface this by saying I have never had sex without a condom! Okay, for those who have ever taken an HIV test, I’m sure they know how stressful it can be. Because I had taken one before, back when I was “active”, it was mildly stressful, but I wasn’t really trippin’. Oddly enough, the incidents surrounding my 2 ½ year period of celibacy is what kinda had me trippin’. Not that I thought I had the package or somethin’, but because I had to at least contemplate the possibility of it. In doing so, the gravity of this plague came crashing down around me. The fact that I’d have to tell my mother, and my little brother, my best friend’s, how would it affect them??? This shit is so far beyond just me, everybody has to live with it… And then there are the calls. The, “I think you need to get tested” call. I have actually gotten one of these for another STD from a friend…and although I wasn’t worried, and she later found out it was a fluke (she jumped the gun a bit…she was fine too), it took balls…or ovaries in her case, to make that call. And even though if is the largest word in the dictionary, if I had gotten unfavorable results, I have to think about all the people I’d be affecting in some way.
Sure, I’ve always been responsible enough to use my own condoms (some women like to poke holes in shit fellas), but honestly, condoms ain’t 100%. Condoms do break. Women who really want the dick will tell you they’re at the end of their period, so they’re not really bleeding, or some may not say shit at all. And, who would I have to blame if the numbers caught up with me on some next shit…myself. Love prompted me to get tested, knowing I wanted to be more certain before I seriously talked of settling down. But then, I was celibate until right after Thanksgiving when I had to cut some of my own bird, y’heard?
Personally, I want nothing more than to settle down, but doing so is something I’m not emotionally prepared to do. Because I wasn’t in any for real relationship in high school or college (long story), I for one haven’t had a “real relationship” yet. Who knows about tomorrow…I have stopped habits or tendencies on a whim, so I may be like fuck it…chill. But, I don’t want to settle down with somebody feeling I haven’t played out…everything…or at least most of it. The flipside being, I also want to chill because that AIDS shit is no joke.
Which in my non-linear way of thinking leads me to a strange topic: Being felt and not knowing it. I don’t notice when a woman is diggin’ me, unless of course she makes it painfully obvious. On more than one occasion, I have gotten down with a chick, only to find that she had been feeling me for weeks, months, sometimes years…
One young lady, hella cool, told me she had been feeling me from a distance for like two years after we had a nice session. Blew my mind because that’s the type of shit I do. Shit, I had a crush, in college no less, on this chick for four years before I said something in senior year. My blunt nature was my undoing, I’m sure, in that scenario. However, I’d probably still get butterflies in my tummy if I saw ole girl tomorrow. She has single-handedly been the muse for more poems than any other person I have ever met. Sure, some of it is the old high school esteem, but generally, I don’t look at myself as being hot shit. I know I’m not ugly, but I don’t spend time in the mirror longer than I have to. In some ways, I think I view myself as that little 5 foot cat with a Napoleonic complex, all rains and wit with no size…decidedly geeky, yet still cool as shit if you know him. The funny thing is, from a logical standpoint, I’m prime choice: Heterosexual, no kids, employed, no record, with his own spot. Damn, if I can’t see all the beauty if self, how can I expect others to???
Anyways, back to point- So what I didn’t see it, who am I to play with hearts and emotions, especially when I’ve been on the other side? Does it matter that I don’t know? Sex is different on almost every level when it comes to men and women. I mean, women are internalizing us…and if that energy is good…it can become an addiction or a craving. Would write more, but too many thoughts. Feel free to share your on the message/bored? Just rambling…