Confessions of a Loner

I spent all day alone. Reading, writing, staying in my head. I know the next long while will be much of the same thing. I like spending time alone. Being solitary is an integral part of who I am. Ever since I can remember, I have always needed "alone time." I was this way as a child up to the time puberty hit; but even then, if I did not have enough time to myself I would get frustrated. I was not the type of teenager that could hang out with friends all day; I would always make some excuse to go be by myself. But as time passes, I realize alone time is not as accessible as it used to be. My job entails interaction with many people. As does my social circle (though I've cut this down considerably). I know part of the reason for my loner tendencies has to do with my nerdery; I love acquiring knowledge, I love sitting with my thoughts. But I've recently realized a lot of it has to do with people's energies. I am incredibly intuitive, and have been since I was young. I pick up energies without realizing it (though in the last few years I have become more aware). This gift is indeed a blessing and I'm thankful for it. But the flipside is that it can drain me at times. This is why alone time is so important to me. It helps me center myself. Though I am learning to block energies, and gotten better at it, I still need the time alone. That is the only way for me to stay grounded and be able to maintain focus on the things that matter.

Rooftop Poem

listen to this midnight poem from a rooftop
over cries of Allah-o Akbar
the night before flesh tainted pavement
with only a camera and her words
she told the world to witness.

Silencio

"I have this disease late at night sometimes, involving alcohol and the telephone. I get drunk, and I drive my wife away with breath like mustard gas and roses. And then, speaking gravely and elegantly into the telephone, I ask the telephone operators to connect me with this friend or that one, from whom I have not heard in years." - Kurt Vonnegut (Slaughterhouse-Five)

Introspection
(summer of dragonflies)

Spent the last few days thinking about what it is I need to be focusing on right now. I have allowed myself to be distracted for too long; and now it's to make those decisions I have been evading. Been feeling too many social pressures on where I should be in life. Watched many of my friends get married, have babies and settle. The truth is I do not want to "settle" in any aspect of my life; that would mean killing my ambitions. And that is not me, never been. I have always been on the margins; never fully followed social norms, though they affect me still. I have only come to realize the amount of influence my own expectations (as per social norms) have had on my interpretations of situations in my life; namely my career and love life (with more emphasis on the latter).

My friends been telling me "you're so ready to wifey" (i.e. settle down with a lover in a committed relationship). I disagree. I know I have that capacity, and intuitively know this will happen eventually. But right now, I'm ready and wanting to wifey my artistic endeavors. This is the one commitment that will truly fullfill me.

So where does this leave me in terms of my love life? I know love (in a romantic sense) is an integral part of my life. But I am now realizing how loaded (and restrictive) my attitude towards it has been thus far. I recently ended something that was perfectly what I needed for the time being; casual but fulfilling in the way I needed. The touch was good and healing. What more did I want? Knowing well from the get that there was no potential for long term commitment with this person, I still let myself get caught up (infatuated?), which ended up being a distraction from the real commitment at hand: my art.

Here I am now, feeling more clarity than I ever have about myself. Intuition is guiding me in a way I never thought possible. I know I am definitely where I need to be. Anxieties are fading. I am feeling in synch. It is all coming together. Alhamdullilah.

all good things must come to an end.




you were lovely though...

Nobody's Drums in My Cypher, Today.

The rain has been following me from the east coast to the west. I made my peace with it today as I stood in the middle of the street, letting the drops soak me through. I walked aimlessly through backstreets, jeans and shirt clinging to my skin, drenched hair weighing heavy on my shoulders and back. No cell phone no wallet no ipod. Just me and the smacking of my wet feet in flip flops, and the smashing of rain against pavement. No cyclone of thoughts storming inside my head. No intrusive energies. Just an unusual calm. Something beautiful.

Permanence

We held a seance listening to Slum V's Trinity album. Talked about Zappa (your favorite) and Brian Wilson (your other favorite). Watched Dwele's self-made youtube video, while you watched me bug out. We discussed the importance of "banality." And did interpretive dances to the most slept on Beach Boys album, Friends. We talked about 90's hip hop, as we always do. And you made me listen to new music by your alter ego, the 90's rapper extraordinaire/Lyrical Furnace. I smoked your shitty Dumaurier cigarettes and sipped cold coffee while commenting on the juxapotision of the Corn Flakes and can of Raid on top of your refrigerator. I laughed at your usage of words like "rapprehension" all the while thinking you are one of the most brilliant people I have come to know and love over the last 17 years.

Thank you for being so perceptive, for feeling my energy shifts, for being so attentive without me having to say anything. Thank you for always bringing music back into my life in a way no one can. Thank you for appreciating every moment we spend together, and for telling me so. And for believing in me and what I want to offer to the world.

Most of all, thank you for reminding me that passion is something to never ever compromise.

Reminiscing on Lovers Past

Reflections of an Ex-Blogger

I want to start blogging regularly again. I quit my Facebook account for good, deciding to spend more time procrastinating productively by writing here. It seems many have departed from the blogosphere and I'm wondering where they have gone to. Perhaps the FB vortex has sucked them in. Either way, I want to keep writing here, not necessarily for building community (as I once did), but for keeping the writing going, like an online journal of sorts. Time away from blogging made me realize how much I missed it. I once wrote for an audience, for my community of bloggers, for anyone who cared to read what I had to share, but now, I'm writing for me. This is a space for me to devote time to my words, to what is in my head, to my creativity, to my nerdery, to my politics. And if anyone cares to read, I welcome them openly.

What It's All About

We have lost a number of seminal artists over the last few years, but the recent passing of Titus Glover, Baatin of Slum Village, has hit particularly deep for me. I am sad on a personal tip; and I have been wracking my brain, trying to figure out why. Maybe because I know people who were close to him, so it feels more personal in that respect. Or perhaps it is the fact that his passing brings up the reality of my own mortality and that of my community of artist friends. He was only 35 years old.

Speculations around Baatin’s death have disturbed me; the possibility of drug abuse and complications around his mental health. It makes me think about the self-destructive ways in which many of us live, the coping strategies that are harmful. But do we call each other out? Better yet, do we take the time to take care of each other? That rarely happens. We are living in the most disconnected of ways. Community feels artificial nowadays.

I want to know why and how we can change this. I want us to engage a meaningful sense of community. One that goes beyond the level of creative output. Beyond the nerdery and dopeness and all the inspiration. I want us to take care of each other.

RIP Baatin

The recent death of hip hop artist, Baatin, made me really sad. Rumour says it was crack. Whatever the case, we just lost another one.

RIP Baatin.