We Did It, We Did It

Yes...
I just quoted Dora the Explorer.
Big whoop.
Wanna fight about it?
Haha.

Guess what, listeners.
I blogged all through February.
28 blogs in a row,
what you know bout that?

I'm not gonna lie,
it was hard to put something up somedays,
as some of you might have gathered.
But I pushed through my busy schedule
or lack of creativity to give you that dopeness [no ego].

If anything,
it showed me that I can actually
get things done when I have a passion for them.
I mean, in all honesty,
sometimes I put the Monologues before my homework.
That's crazy, but it's true.
I mean,
people tend to do what they love to do
before they do things that they have to do.
Like right now.
I'm starving like a bum,
but instead of cooking,
I'm writing.
Now, I could be doing both...
but my multitasking abilities aren't that on point. Haha

Anyway,
what's your passion?
Do you even know what it is?
Find it, and do it.
Take it from me.
It will makr you happy beyond belief.
Word.

Hip Hop vs Rap

Is there really a difference between the two?

Personally,
I think there is.
Hip hop is more concious, self aware.
It tells a story or uplifts us.
Rap is more about self glory and
claiming superiority over others.

Rap music is a better for jamming out at a party.
Hip hop is more something you sit back in your room with and vibe out to.
No one really wants to think
when they're at a party.
They just want to chill and have a good time.

For personal preference,
I like hip hop better.
I mean, I try to be as socially aware as possible,
and hip hop offers insight into certian issues.
With rap,
it's more about the hustle, which I can't relate to;
it's about gettin bitches, which I can't relate to;
it's about stunting like it's a habit; which... yeah, I can relate to.

I don't know,
hip hop is just more pleasing to my ears.
The beats and flow, ah magnificence.

But still,
the two are hard to distinguish from one another.
People often use the two as synonyms.
Artists often cross between the two as well,
connecting to a wider audience.

Hmm...
I'd like to discuss this topic at greater length,
but I'm afriad I have to go to work now.
Just wanted to blog now
because I doubt I'll have time to do it later.

As always,
please feel free to way in.
I value your opinion
as much as you value mines. [no ego]
Word.

Inappropiate, Sir

What exactly is inappropiate?
I mean, how do we as a society define it?
And why is it considered as such,
because of our standards?
Bcecause we've made something taboo?

Why can't a guy go up to a girl and give her breast a squeeze?
Because it invades her personal space,
not to mention it makes her feel like a piece of meat.

Why can't I curse around young child?
Because then they'll use it all the time
and will grow up to be "poor" members of society.

Why can't white people use the n-word?
Because it brings up too many painful memories for blacks
and they just don't say it cool, anyway.

So, I guess in a sense
things are considered inappropiate for a reason.
But in a world without this connotation...
my, could you imagine the horrors?

Gay people kissing on park benches.
Employees breaking into a song and dance routine at work.
Everyone wearing what they want to wear.
Mphm.
The horror.
The pure and utter horror.

You know me,
always the one to question why society functions the way it does.
I propose we have a day of no standards, when anything goes.
I wonder how we'd starting towards one another
when we no longer hold back.
Dream on, listeners.
Word.

The Conversations of Wacko & Snuff, EP1

My best friend and I often have late night conversations.
Minds out of the gutters please.
No, we just joke nonstop,
no matter how offensive the shit gets.
Case and point, this conversation we had a couple nights ago.
He’s Snuff,
And I, of course, am Wacko.
Enjoy.

Wacko: haha. what are you up to?

Snuff: chillin...prob bout 2 ssleep, u?

Wacko: [gasp]
sleep?
but.... but.. i thought we were off that haha
no, i'm bout to start a project
so it's better that you not be online

Snuff: lol

Wacko: cause i tend not to do shit else when i fuck around with you

Snuff: heeeyyy
wuts that supposed 2 mean??? :(

Wacko: you're niggeredly are distracting
your*
ways*
see
it's takin affect already

Snuff: oh
well
yeahh....thats true
lol

Wacko: my point exactly

Snuff: u still a bitch >.>

Wacko: i mean, obviously

Snuff: DiStRaCtInG dIsTrAcTiOnS !.!.!.!.!

Wacko: ......
ignorance

Snuff :D
u smiled
haha
possibly snickkered
lol

Wacko: i smiled
yeah
big whoop
wanna fight about it?

Snuff: >.>
actually...
no. im quite afraid of raging homosexuals

Wacko: as you should be
they are to be feared and beaten when they show signs of weakness

Snuff: haha
but i heard they like that -_-

Wacko: that's why you find pussy-shaped objects
or a Bible
they hate both equally

Snuff: >.>
so you hate pussy shaped priest applications?
correction. *deacon applications

Wacko: yes, this is correct
lil alter boys are fine, though

Snuff: ahhh
but of coourse
a rare delicacy
like a ripe banana
>.>
no pun intended
giggity

Wacko: do those eyes point in the direction of the nearest little boy i can rape?
i mean caress
i mean...
take to the park and treat to ice cream like a good uncle

Snuff: no, but they point to the nearest suspect male who is in the closet and swears hes a straight thug >.>

Wacko: even better!
that means i only get charged with rape

Snuff: well no, they tell u 2 suck their dick nd say ur gay 4 sucking it...but theyre still straight...

Wacko: lame
but yeah
that's when i rape them though
right?

Snuff: indeed
and tell them to take it like a man

Wacko: awesome
X-D

Wacko: for any watching special agents, this conversation is completely a joke between two niggas from jersey
that is all

Snuff: lol


Like I said, reckless.
Haha.
Word.

Broke vs Cheap

Please believe,
there is definitely a difference
between being broke and being cheap.
For example:

When you're broke, you treat your friends to Ramen.
When you're cheap, you treat your friends to directions to the nearest Taco Bell.

When you're broke, you know how to mix and match.
When you're cheap, you wear sweatpants to class everyday.

When you're broke, you will let the gas tank run on E.
When you're cheap, you will walk to the club.

When you're broke, you will take a date to free pancake day at ihop.
When you're cheap, you will make dinner for them.

When you're broke, you tell your kids Santa couldn't make it this year.
When you're cheap, you tell your kids Santa gave 1 gift for the whole house.

You see,
being cheap is an option;
being broke is a case of circumstance.
Do not look down upon broke people.
Help them out;
point them in the direction of a better job.
But for that cheap mothafucka,
make them pay for anything possible.
Secretly, they sitting on a goldmine.
But learn from them, too.
They know how to manage their money.

Me, myself,
I just happen to be broke somedays.
By no means am I cheap.
But if I don't have to pay for something,
dammit, I'm not gonna offer up cash.
But if you ask me to chip in,
yeah, I'll prob be one of the first to do so,
even if my pockets are a little lean.
That's just who I am.

So... who are you?
A broke nigga or a cheap nigga?
Word.

Out

Well... it's come to this.
In a sense, it's going back to the Monologues' beginning
Something inspired me to write about this.
I've been avoiding it for a while,
but well.... here it goes.

Coming out is never easy.

Some kids are lucky enough
to realize it as a kid.
I'm not really sure how that works.
I thought puberty was the real indicator for that.
But then again, I was chasing girls at the age of 4
so I guess it's possible.
Obviously, I wasn't as lucky.

I think that if you know as a kid,
usually others will realize it too.
The hazing and disrespect will start then,
and the immunity to the name calling will build.
By the time their grown,
coming won't will be an issue for them;
their struggle is more so teaching people
and helping others with their sexuality.

For those of us that had no idea,
or maybe even denied it,
coming out is a struggle.
For one,
we have to come out to ourselves first.
This is definitely the hardest part.
It took me a whole year to really accept it.
I just couldn't believe that a guy like myself
who found a girl in every grade to treat as my Topanga
could be gay or bi.

The next part is telling friends and family.
Friends first.
This is because friends come and go.
If they can't accept you for who you are,
then it's on to the next one.
However, this isn't always the case with family.
You know, you can't pick your family.
You can even try to run away from them,
but you'll always turn back to them.
I mean, not having your family accept you
is problem one of the biggest fears a person can have.
The relation a person has with their family,
especially their parents,
can dictate how they'll live the rest of their life.

Coming out to my friends was easy;
facebook took care of that for me.
(statuses: spreading the news faster than TMZ)
My family,
only select people know.
Actually only 3.
The rest of my family...
I want to wait until I can support myself to tell them.
Not that they'd cut me off, but I don't know for sure.
My dad... he's always talking about me having a son,
asking me what I'm goin to name him.
And his brother and mother,
always asking me how many girl friends I have now.
I feel like they know...
...but I won't confirm just yet.

Now, for some people,
coming out just doesn't seem an option.
They'd rather not have anyone know.
It has to deal with their image.
You see, sometimes people hold you in a certain light,
and the fear is that once they find out,
they'll treat you completely different.
I mean, I get it,
but I'd rather have people know the real me
and treat me as they would from there.

With that said,
I don't introduce myself like,
"Hi, I'm Charles. I'm gay."
No, not at all.
I shouldn't be defined like that.
And it's not necessarily everyone's business to know.
If they find out, then cool.

Lastly,
this one is for all.
Don't out someone.
If they're in the closet, let them stay there.
Sure, you can convince them to come out,
but don't badger them and make them feel bad.
Know when to let it go.
I'm pretty sure I know some gay kids who aren't out,
and I have to remind myself not to make reference to it
around other people because I don't know if they know too.

Overall,
coming out is a tricky thing.
I wish it was easier,
like if there was just a clear indicator to tell if someone was or not,
no more hiding, and hopefully no more ridicule.
But such is not the world we live in.
Beatings still happen to gays,
but that's a subject I know little about.
So I'll end here.
And wish all my fellow gays and lesbians
a safe journey until coming into their own.
Word.

Like A Melody in My Head

For some reason,
Adele's Melt My Heart to Stone
is on repeat in my head right now.
I listened to it earlier this week.
I love the song,
but I don't understand why it's stuck up there.
Also in rotation in my head is
Man Like Me by Beulah and
Take Me or Leave Me from the Rent soundtrack.
Of course, there have been other songs,
but those are the three that have been the most frequent.

Now, I'm aware that I'm not alone.
A few of my friends will randomly
start humming a few bars from a song
and break into singing the chorus later.
I can only stare at them
and share a laugh with them once they feel awkward about it.

Long ago,
before the days of iPods,
during the days when we ran out of cds or cassettes
to play on a bus ride
or when the batteries died in our Walkman,
we learned songs and played them in our heads.
For me, I usually played them when I got bored in class.
But since iPods,
hearing someone sing their favorite track sans accompaniment is rare.
At least before iPods
we knew the choruses and main lines if not whole verses to our favorite songs.
Now... ahn.
I think it's down to just the chorus and melody.

So why then have these songs embedded themselves in my head?

Often when we hear a song played over and over again,
they'll get stuck in our head,
even if we're not a big fan of the song ourselves.
Lord knows I was upset when I couldn't get I.N.D.E.P.E.N.D.E.N.T. by Webbie & Lil Boosie out of my head.
Dammit, it's playing in my head now.
I apoligize if I've done the same to you.
But, I suppose repetition does play a large role in it.

But the songs I've been playing in my head aren't popular,
at least at the monent.
They aren't singles on the radio.
Besides the Beulah track,
I learned of the songs a while ago.
So I ask again,
why are they stuck in my head?

Well, I think I've cracked the case.
I think it's an emotional thing.
Right now I'm connecting with these songs,
and they're speaking to me right now.
They're attempting to tell me something,
or perhaps they're simply extensions of my emotions.
You know, "they" say when you don't know how to say something,
you should sing it. [I feel like I've told you this before.]

Anyway,
pay attention to those songs that
pop up in your head out of no where.
Embrace them, learn them by heart.
And unlock the message they're delivering to you.
Word.

Show Me Your Teeth

Beautiful teeth: what are they?
Clean,
brushed,
flossed,
straight,
strong.
All positive things,
so one can understand why they'd be desirable qualities.
But why do you shun those without them.

Come now.
We've all seen someone with
crooked.
gapped,
missing,
rotten,
or yellow teeth.
You could be having a great date,
but soon as you peep 'em...
"Yo, waiter. Check please!" Haha

I think how we treat our teeth stems from childhood.
If our parents kept on our case to brush our teeth everyday,
we did, and as a result we have white teeth now.
If our parents took us to the dentist regularly,
we had few cavities and had braces to correct misaligned teeth.

Teeth can really play a big part in a person's confidence.
If a person doesn't have good teeth,
they won't smile often,
especially in pictures.
They might not talk a lot either,
depending on who the person is.

Now... me... myself?
Yeah... I don't have good teeth.
The first time I went to the dentist was 2 years ago.
They found 9 cavities, I think.
In addition, my teeth...
while they aren't throwing up gang signs,
them joints do crowd each other.
I'm also trying to improve my brushing habits.
They've been a bit sparatic as of late.

But yeah...
um... take good care of your teeth.
You wouldn't want them to fall out.
Then again....
for all the freaks out there
that would mean painless.... never mind.
I'll just end now. Haha.
Word.

Small World After All

It's always funny to me
when I'm on Facebook
and I see when people become friends.
I'll just sit back and wonder
"How do ya'll know each other?"
Like, it throws me sometimes.

I know I live on a small campus,
but it'll be people you'd think would never meet up.
It kind of makes me wonder how they met.
Through a friend?
At a party?
In the same club?

I'm pretty sure if you take any 2 people
within a 10 mile radius,
it wouldn't take more than 10 people to connect them.
Them degrees of separation are something else.

Shit... in the gay community...
Haha. Now, I wouldn't know,
but that degree of separation can boil down to 1 or 2 people
even in a big city like Baltimore.

I guess overall what I'm saying is watch out.
Don't be popping off slick at the mouth.
You don't know who your friends know.
...unless you check mutual friends on Facebook.
Word.

Cold Shoulder

Across the crowded room
you talk to your friends,
engaged in deep conversation,
which Michael Jackson song is better:
Thriller or Human Nature.
I walk right by you
and you turn your head
but I don't.
Yes, I see you.

You walk across the street,
heading towards the convience store.
You get a soda, potota chips, and a honey bun.
You use exact change to pay.
I stand two people behind you in line.
You leave without me saying hi.
Yes, I see you.

We're hanging out with a small group of friends
in a equally small room.
Our eyes meet
but we disengage immediately.
We talk to anyone
but each other.
Yes, I see you.

I stop.
I stare.
I analyze.
I rationalize.
I approach.
I frighten.
I run away.

Because I don't know if you see me,
if you notice the things that I do.

Everytime I open my mouth,
dry air chokes me to submission.
I don't know what to bring up
with out letting you know explicitly,
vividly what I think of you.

If only I had more confirmation
of where you stood on the matter.
Then it would be easier.
But it's not.
So I'll continue to ignore you
as I watch your every move
and hope that some day
you'll see me too.

Word.

Filler

Because I promised to blog everyday this month,
but my mind is feeling drained from everything I have to do,
I will just rant a little bit. I think I'll use last week as a jumping point.

So,
last week, Loyola had a week off because of snow.
Needless to say, things got reckless.
Half of the campus got outta Dodge before the second wave of snow
shut Baltimore down... no like really.
Baltimore closed them streets down all day,
Tuesday and/or Wednesday, I think.
Anyway... last week was an adventure for me.
I ended up meeting a group of sophomores
through a kid I meet in a group last semester.
Contrary to what I originally thought,
they're good kids. Even took care of me when I got a lil sick at their place.

Anyway... last week was a lot of cause and effect.
[Hmm... Cause & Effect. Look for that blog in the future, possibly.]
The main night of cause and effect came from Thursday night.
It started when I went to go hang with a friend
who then persuaded me to join him in drinking a few things.
Then I went to a different room and watched TV.
Then I went upstairs to say hi to friends,
then back to the room I watched TV in.
Then... I started back on my way home.
But I saw the guy who introduced me to that group of sophomores
and decided to hang out with him.
I'll have to stop there, because... well I can't tell ya'll everything.

That's what I'm finding.
I have to restrain myself more.
Cause if I don't, I'll just tell you guys everything,
And I mean, if it only concerned me, I would.
But when it involves others, I gotta keep it on the hush.
Can't have anyone putting the pieces together, you know.

But yeah...
I know this was a lame follow up to my anniversary post.
But if you kept reading this far... wow.
Thanks. You must really like what I do.
And I appreciate you for that.
Be well.
Word.

It's Been a Year?

"Do you know what today is?
It's our anniversary." -Tony Toni Tone

Ha Ha! That's right, my dear friends [and associates].
Today, Feb 17th, marks the one year anniversary of the Wacko Monologues.
I am... well I'm quite proud of myself, to be honest.
I mean, I started writing blogs out of boredom.
I had been cast in a play the fall semester before
but not in any the spring semester after.
So I figured, "Why not find a way to occupy my time?"
Here's the original mission statement
I posted in the first 4 or so posts:

"I'm basically going to start an online journal kind of thing.
It'll be sparatic and full of spelling errors cause I can't spell for shit.
I was inspired by the recent resurgence in the utilization of the note feature: 25 things and others deciding to just share their thoughts on thing.
I don't plan to have any theme to these, but if one so emerges, I won't try to stray from it."
[Did I really use sparatic, resurgence, and utilization all within 2 lines?
Someone was trying to show off that day. Hahaha]

It's funny now that I look back on it.
I mean, the kind of poem-like stanza formation
was something I decided at that very first post,
like on the spot.
I knew I hated reading big blocks of text in other people's notes on Facebook,
so I figured that would be the best way to deliver my thoughts.

Also funny,
I said I wouldn't have any topics for these.
But ever since the second post,
there's been a uniting topic to each post. haha

As some of you know,
the Wacko Monologues started on Facebook.
They were published during the weekdays,
usually about 2-5 a week,
depending on how much inspiration I recieved.
I've since expanded by posting on blogger
and creating a fan page on Facebook as well.
I hope one day is that more than my friends will read these...
which I feel like since I've joined blogger has been the case.

But enough of the history [I think],
time for announcements.

1) I will begin revising before posting.
Yes, I know right?
No more typos or spelling errors, or at least that's the plan.
Also, by revising I'll be able to add more insight
that I may have forgotten to bring up before.
Good, right?

2) I'll be asking for help.
As I've been doing on twitter,
I'll be asking for more suggestions for posts.
I mean, a year is a long time to be doing this.
This is the 195th post itself, so... yeah.
Brain drain. Haha.
Besides, that way I can appeal more to you, my audience.

3) Video blogging?
[clears throat] Yes... um...
well, I mean I have a camera now.
And it does record video.
So I have been thinking about taking it to YouTube.
This is all just a maybe as of now.
But... maybe if I get the right software and the courage,
I'll show my face and deliver my message to a bigger audience.
Because we all know more people watch YouTube than read a blog
... or a book for that matter.

So, that's all I have today.
If you've seen me around campus today smiling like no other,
this is the reason why.
I can't really celebrate it tonight, or this week,
cause I'm asst stage managing slash running the light board
for a play on campus that starts tomorrow and runs until Sunday
but trust, I will definitely have something to celebrate...
myself. [no ego] haha

Anyway,
on some Lupe ish,
"Peace... and much love to ya."
Word.

Using Friends to Your Advantage

Let us be honest for a second.
We use our friends. All of them.
Now, yes, we love our friends, sure.
We keep them around because we relate to them.
But overall, each one is supplying you with something.

Sometimes it's materialistic.
Some friends are generous
and loan money,
let you get their food,
throw parties.
Now, they may want to be reimburse for such,
but even if you're a good friend
you'll try your damnedest to avoid it.
Especially at parties,
man, some people will walk in and just take drinks
and food they see in the fridge
and then they see the container with the donations for the party,
think about stealing a little,
but decide they don't want to be that grimy.

Now, being taking advantage of
doesn't always involve material things.
Sometimes people keep friends around
to feel better about themselves:
like a pretty girl with ugly friends
or a jock with a nerdy friend.
Some people constantly need to hear yes,
so they keep those kinds of people around them.
And those people stick around
to reap the benefits of being that person's friend.
Other times it's because people share something in common,
like being minorities
or both having been victims of abuse.
They use each other as support.
Some relationship go on simply because the 2 people don't want to be alone.
That's my theory on how marriages work.

Anyway you slice it,
we all take advantage of each other.
But this is not necessarily a bad thing.
I mean, we need each other to survive.
The man with no friends is the saddest and most unfortunate man of all.

So I saw keep using each other.
But do so in moderation.
Too much will just irritate someone.
Word.

Top 10 Reasons, Ep 7

This week's it's awkward situations.
Let's see what I can come up with this time. haha

10) Getting caught taking a roommate's food
Sharing is so kindergarten.

9) Thinking you know the answer only to find out you don't
Now put your hand down and stop trying to show off.

8) Getting caught skipping class
When teachers walk on campus, they will spot that ass.

7) Asking someone out at a club and getting rejected

And you don't wanna leave the club; just, um... stay in the corner.

6) Running into an ex

You ain't never wanna see them again, but ya'll got a class together this semester.

5) Getting walked in on while in the shower

Especially if you in there singing off-key.

4) Being mistaking for gay
Sucks for the person with no gaydar and the accused party.

3) Getting caught having sex
Even worse if it's a parent. Oops. Oh my.

2) Getting caught masterbating
Even worse if it's a roommate. Let the torment begin.

1) Your mate catching you on the toilet
Even some married couples can't stand to see each other like that.

And there you have it.
Word.

Why the Roles?

Warning:
Although I'm mainly addressing the straight community,
this is a gay post.
If you do not feel like reading about gay issues today,
here is your chance to turn away.

Okay,
so I was on youtube today,
procrastinating a little,
giving my brain a rest,
when I wandered upon one of my favorite youtuber's channel.
He's a gay vlogger [video blogger]
who usually has some pretty insightful things to say.
In this video, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=opcDYhFShrg)
he was basically talking about gender roles in a gay relationship.
You know,
like who's the guy, who's the girl.

Basically, he said that it's really shouldn't be like that.
The relationship is between 2 guys or 2 girls.
Well, I think I'd have to agree with him.
I mean, if we allowed ourselves to be characterized as such,
then isn't that just reaffirming the believe that homosexuality is wrong?

Sure, maybe one guy acts more feminine than his partner,
or a gal will act more butch than her mate.
But I'm pretty sure more than half the time,
it's not that cut and dry.

Allow me to go into the whole top and bottom thing.
In the gay community,
you usually have to pick a preference.
To be the pitcher or the catcher.
Usually the pitcher will lead the action;
he or she is also the one called the "guy of the relationship."
But in my experience,
it's always been more of exchange, a give and take.
The roles are never clearly defined.
We both take turns leading,
and honestly, I find that more enjoyable.

Like I asked in yesterday's post,
why most everything be defined?
Everything doesn't have to fit into neat little categories.
People are made up of too many elements and characteristics
to just fall into one bucket.

I mean,
I wanna say this classification of roles in gay relationships
is something the straight community imposes on us,
but in all honesty, it comes from the gay community as well.
In our community, we have a term for someone who performs both roles.
It's verse, short for versatile.
Some see it as being greedy, much like bisexuality.
But at the end of the day,
it's just another preference.
And people will just have to deal with it.
Word.

Hispanic, The Term

For some reason,
I feel as if Hispanics are the overlooked minority.
It's probably just me,
but I see the fewest of them anywhere I go.

Really though,
who is a Hispanic?
Some feel as if the term is too general.
And in a sense, it is.
Merrian-Webster defines Hispanic as:
1 : of or relating to the people, speech, or culture of Spain or of Spain and Portugal
2 : of, relating to, or being a person of Latin American descent living in the United States; especially : one of Cuban, Mexican, or Puerto Rican origin

I think we follow the second definition more so in America.
When I think of a Spanish or Portuguese person,
I don't think of them as Hispanic, but as white.
Why is that?
Possibly because their skin is paler.
But you look at the words Spanish and Hispanic
and think they must be related.
Usually, if someone has tan to dark skin and speaks Spanish,
we'll point them out as Hispanic.

I know it seems like I'm rambling,
but I'm really trying to figure this out.
I mean, the culture of a Puerto Rican differs from a Cuban
and both of those differ a Mexican.
I suppose the term Hispanic is as all inclusive as Black is.
I know some Caribbeans that'll curse you out if you call them black,
especially if you call them African American.
Shoot, even some Africans will get mad if you call them African American
and you would think that term would really appeal to them.

I think overall,
America has been so fixated on branded everyone.
Everyone has to fall into a category.
I guess in a sense, it's suppose to bring those alike together,
but truly it only separates us all as a whole.

Latin American does a more accurate job
than Hispanic when it comes to description.
But it still doesn't get the job done.
Sigh. I don't know.
This is definitely one of those topics
that deserve to be brought up
and discussed in length.
So, as always,
feel free to share your opinions.
Til later, my dear friends [and associates].
Word.

Don't Dance With Wolves

This poem here was inspired by a dream a while back.
I wrote the poem and forgot I wrote it.
Luckily, I was dreaming all crazy last night,
and woke up thinking about past dreams.
Anyway, here you go.
Enjoy.
Word.


I’m traveling home.
On the way, I see a friend of mines from high school from a distance,
But this does not make sense.
I am at my college.
He continues to walk on ahead of me;
I walk at my usual pace behind him.
Soon, from the below hill,
3 wolves run up and surround him,
They come up one at a time actually.
My friend is no longer there.
Has he been eaten?
Another man seems to be there in his place.
He runs until 3 dogs come along to aid him.
The man stands there as he cheers the dogs on.
The wolves run away in fear.
But before they can run off,
Another wolf appears.
The man sees them returning and immediately runs off.
The 3 dogs are paralyzed with terror
As the 4 wolves pounce on them and tear them apart.
Once they are dead, the wolves chomp in on them,
The man comes back in partakes in hopes of becoming one of them.

I am right in front of them,
Frozen with fear along with a young couple.
The new wolf then speaks up.
“Anyone knows where we can get a hot dog?”
The man of the couple points down the hill to a restaurant.
“No. I meant like you.”
Realizing what they mean I start to slowly creep backwards to my residence hall,
It’s right behind me, actually.
The new wolf sees this and says,
“You stay. We may need you in case these two don’t feel us up.”
I supposed I should feel honored.
At least the black guy doesn’t die first in this horror flick.


[Hey, I never said my dreams make sense.
But I know somehow they do.]

You Can't Say That

But... But...
1) It's true.
2) What happened to free speech?

I decided to write this because of what John Mayer said
in a interview with Playboy.
I think it was something along the lines
of his dick being a white supremisist.
Now, me, I found that hilarious.
But I guess most of America wasn't.

I mean, a man is entitled to his opinion.
We all have our preferences.
So maybe he didn't say in a political correct matter.
Fuck political correct.
People aren't always going to agree.

On a related note,
some don't agree on usage of words
such as nigga or spick.
Once again, I let free speech come in.
I think I've said this before,
but I'll repeat it.
As much as I enjoy sayin nigga because
it's something blacks have complete control over,
I look forward to the day when my white brothers and sisters can use it.
I know some of you are looking at me like,
"C.G., you be wildin some days, but you bout to make me come over there and hurt you."
But I mean, come on.
I feel like once they're allowed to say it,
tensions will decrease a little.
As with everything we say
tone and context plays a large role in what words we use.
Our white brothers and sisters will have to keep this in mind as well.
Tred lightly, don't go splashing around.
That's how fools get eaten by sharks.

Lastly, should anyone get in trouble for what they say?
I thought I had been taught
that actions speak louders than words.
Why should we allow something offensive a person says
dictate how we feel towards them?
Back to the John Mayer example,
let's treat it like Michael Jackson.
Enjoy the music;
ignore the propaganda.
Word.

False Celebrity

One of my best friends and I were just talking on aim.

I was telling him how reckless everything down here is,

with school cancelled for the whole week.

Then I showed him my twitter, since he doesn't have one.

Needless to say he called me crazy. haha

I told him how I felt like I had fans anytime I tweet.

Then we start talking about how social networks are dangerously psychological.

And honestly, it's true.

Sites like facebook, twitter, and now formspring

have given us the feeling that we're celebrities, in a sense.

Anytime we post a status, picture, video,

we're doing to gain approve and attention from our peers.

Yes, when you boil it down, that's all it is.

Sure, these sites where created to keep in touch with those around you.

But a phone can do that just as well.

Dwell on this.

you can follow someone on Twitter,

but they don't have to follow you back.

If they don't, you end up feeling some type of way

and you'll stop following them.

But if they do follow you,

you'll confidence goes up a little

and you start thinking you're big time.

Now I admit,

I'm very guilty of this.

And I enjoy the feeling.

I mean, it is really wrong to want to feel important?

I guess the damage starts when you don't do anything.

Anyway,

don't let these social networks go to your head.

You're still a person,

just as equal to everyone else around you.

Don't measure your success by how many friends you have

but by how much you have accomplished

and how many appreciate you for it.

Word.

Black Unity.

So a white girl at a party

randomly comes up to me and says,

"I tried out for the fashion show this year.

I didn't make it, but I made it last year."

The fashion show is sponsored by the BSA [black student assoc].

A drunk white girl

coming back a night out asks me this,

"Hey, do you know the basketball team?

He's a senior; his name is Garrett.

Oh my God, he's so hot."

I'm sorry.

I don't know why you didn't make the fashion show;

I'm not on the committee.

Maybe because they decided all black everything this year.

And no,

I don't know anyone on the basketball team.

I couldn't even tell you who starts.

I swear,

sometimes I think white people

really think all black people know each other.

But in reality.... shouldn't we?

I mean, as much as we try to ignore it,

we are definitely still the minority in this country.

I'll see a black person on campus that I've never seen before,

which is rare cause there's only like 100 of us,

and I'll be like "Where you come from?" in my head.

But in real life, I just keep it moving.

Most of the food servers on campus are black.

You would think I would have a good rapport with them,

but no.

We look at each other coldly,

exchange food for money and keep it moving.

I went to a predominantly black high school,

so the lunch ladies were Hispanic.

They gave the hispanic kids discounts

and free stuff all the time.

They had the unity that minorities should have.

I'm not saying we should be helping each other steal,

but we should at least be looking out for each other.

I feel that too often in the black community

we bring each other down.

We separate ourselves by skin color and class.

If a black kid hangs out with white kids all the time,

his black peers call him uppity

and ask if he thinks he to good to hang around black folk.

If a black kid looks to ghetto or ignorant,

we'll ignore them

and say how they ain't never gonna be shit.

So I say stop the madness.

Let us come together as one.

Shoot, maybe I'll talk to a random black kid next time I see one.

I'll find out what's going on with the fashion show.

I'll strike up a conversation with someone on the basketball team when I get bold.

Haha.

Word.

O.P.P.

Yeah, you know me.

But am I down with it?

Known as other people's property,

or other people's pussy if you're nature is naughty,

it's a fairly controversial topic.

I mean, taking anything of anyone's

seems wrong in some sense.

So why would we do it?

Simple: we want what we can't have.

It's part of the thrill.

We all want excitement,

and what better way to achieve that

than by pursuing what not ours?

Secretly, we don't one anyone to be happy but ourselves.

Think about it.

Don't you love when you can say to someone,

"Haha. I have something that use to be yours

and you'll never have it again."

Why do you think a guy asks their friend

if he can go out with his ex-girlfriend?

Cause he wanted to tap that the whole time.

Even if the friend says no,

he's still gonna go after her.

It's a funny concept,

one we all want to take part of

but don't want to admit

so that we can salvage our image.

But forreal though,

let's just be honest.

We all want what we can't have;

some of us just have more heart

and go after it.

So let's not call them evil and wrong,

rather go-getters and honest men.

Ah, a fair warning though.

Let us remember the law of karma.

What goes around comes around.

So choose what you go after wisely.

No need for something to come back

and bite you in the ass.

Word.

Top 10 Reasons, EP6

Yes it's back.

Everyone's favorite mini-series: Top 10 Reasons.

Today, Top 10 Reasons why your room is still dirty.

Let's begin, shall we?

10) When did I eat Vietnamese food?

Why you keep pickles under your bed, I may never know.

9) The smell isn't that bad.

I mean, everyone likes their own scent... right?

8) So... tired...

When you're sleepy, you don't care where your clothes go, as long as they're off you.

7) These clothes aren't dirty yet.

You only wore them once, they don't smell, but you can't put them back on the hanger. So why not leave it on the floor until it's hamper ready?

6) It's your way of decorating your room.

The way those panties dangle from the light fixture really accent the t-shirt curtains.

5) Company? What's that?

No one comes to your place, so who you got to impress?

4) Busy work schedule.

School, work, school, extra curricular, date life, eat, wash, sleep. Clean room, how is that a priority?

3) I swear, it feel over.

Sometimes when you have a lot of old papers, books, and assignments on your desk, they just decide to commit suicide and jump off. You figure, "Hey. Well, if that's where you wanna be..."

2) No where to put stuff.

Sometimes you buy clothes only realize you have no more hangers, no more space in your drawers. So, what else is there to do put drape worn clothes on chairs and what not, rotate everything?

1) I don't wanna let go!

OK, so your a pack rat. Who cares? You love your antic boombox and that old waffle maker that doesn't work anymore? If your caller ID says Clean House, just ignore it.

And there you have it.

Word.

In the Alleyway (An Excerpt)

So I wrote a short story for my Advanced Fiction class yesterday.

It's about 14 pages double spaced.

I'm proud of myself.

It's the longest thing I've written beside a 2-act play I wrote a while back.

Anyway, I decided to treat you guys to a little sample of the story.

This section of the story is a lil more than have way into the story.

You don't really need to know anything to enjoy this excerpt.

And as always, I've you'd like to see the full version,

just hit me up on facebook or twitter.

Enjoy.

Word.

Marcus finally crept out of his room around five. All of his roommates were sleeping off last night’s activities when he got home. They were alive and well now, all crowded around the TV in the common room watching college football; Marcus stood at his door, still in his clothes from last night.

“Come on, Florida!” Dave shouted at the inanimate object. “Number 46, what are you doing?

“Dude, calm down. Your alma mater always sucked, you know that,” Kyle commented.

“Yeah, but they have a new coach this year. Things were supposed to be different,” he slumped into his recliner.

Marcus began to inch behind them as he attempted to reach the bathroom undetected. It wasn’t until he reached the door that Kyle stopped him. “Bro, there you are. Where’d you disappear to last night?”

“Oh, um. You know me. Always walking back home drunk by myself,” he said attempting to get off the subject quickly. Kyle accepted this as a reasonable answer and resumed watching the game. With that taken care of, Marcus reached for the door handle but stopped short. He needed to share it with someone. “Guys.” Kyle and Dave turn around to look at him, but only because Florida called a time-out. “I think…. I got raped last night.”

“Wait, what?” Dave turned the TV off and sprung forward out of his seat.

Marcus avoided eye contact but repeated himself.

“Dude, only chicks get raped,” Dave said. “Unless… dude, did some ugly chick take you back to her place and use you as her sex slave?”

“Who’s ever heard of a female rapist?” Kyle interjected.

“There’s always like a female teacher or two on the news every other year accused of giving some fifteen year old kid the time of his life.”

“Right; teachers. They’re child molesters, not rapists.”

“Same difference.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “One forces themselves on kids, the other on adults. No woman would ever rape a guy. They can get tail anytime they want. All they gotta do is lay it out there. Besides, a girl can’t fuck a guy. She doesn’t have the proper equipment.”

Dave has a defense ready. “Strap-ons.”

“Ah, touché.” Kyle was impressed.

Marcus couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped into the bathroom and locked the door.

Kyle tapped on the door. “Yo, Marcus, did she have a strap-on? Is that how she did it?”

“Or was it a guy?” Dave jumped in.

“Ooo. Did some big biker guy come and take advantage of you? Give you a ride on his polished Harley-Davidson? When he climaxed, did he go ‘vroom’ or did he sound like that backfire noise a lot bikes make?” Kyle laughed. Marcus could hear Dave rolling around on the floor, dying of laughter.

“I was kidding. Damn. Why can’t I ever make a joke without you guys taking it too far?” Marcus turned on the sink to drown them out. He ran his hands under the faucet and splashed his face. Looking in the mirror, little drops of water dropped off his face. It looked like sweat from a hard work out. Or like a rough session in the bed, the thought crossed his mind. He removed himself from the mirror and stepped into the bathtub, turning on the water. He didn’t take off his clothes. They needed to be cleaned too.

Sing It Loud, Sing It Out

So I'm holdin a little bit of my own private karaoke right now.
But it's in a public space, the computer lab.
But nobody is here.
So I'm just gonna keep singing out loud,
tripping over words, but enjoying the fuck outta myself.
But can assure you as soon as someone walks in here,
I'll get real quiet like.
They'll look at me like, "Was that you singin off-key just now?"
And I'll just keep my eyes trained on the computer screen.

See, someone did. And I shut my ass up.
Even stopped bopping along.
I should just jump back into the song,
but I don't wanna scare the white boy.
...what am I sayin, of course I do.
But I'll save us both the embarrassment.

Now, my question is a simple one:
why do we stop enjoying ourselves around when strangers are around?
Yes, I know I already answered my question,
but why need we feel embarrassed?
Cause we can't sing?
Can't dance?
We put on this real ugly face when we hit that high note?
Overall, just to avoid the judgment of others.

But think about it,
how happy are you when you just walking along on the sidewalk by yourself,
singing one of your favorite songs?
You are elated for that while.
You only feel like a damn fool when someone
comes from behind and walks past you.
Luckily, they have in headphones,
but at the volume you were belting
they're like to have heard a lil bit.

So, my dear friends [and associates]
I say sing out and loud.
Be proud of your vocal talents,
or lack thereof.
Be not afraid.
If the television show Glee
(yeah, I'm on of those kids;
big whoop, wanna fight about it)
has taught us anything,
it's that sometimes you just gotta sing,
cause sometimes you can't find the right words to say.

I mean, it's very relaxing and liberating in a sense.
Word.

Obama: Branded

Obama Black, huh?

Okay, so a link caught my eye this afternoon
as I was checkin my twitter account.
I clicked on it,
and wouldn't you know
Urban Outfitters was advertising
a woman's blouse in a color called...
right, Obama Black.
Let me tell ya'll.
The shit ain't black.
It ain't brown, mahogany;
shit it's not even tan.
It's gray, ya'll.
I guess cause that's what black plus white equals.
Funny. [We are not amused.]

I mean, let's face it;
this isn't the first time Obama's name has been attached to something foolish.
There was the coin collection,
I think some tacky dinner plates,
of course the ghetto tees
found on any corner in urban community shopping districts.
Yes, we all know the man is our first black;
stop tryna profit off his name.

Basically, Obama is becoming a brand.
But is he signing off on it
or are people just tryna play him?
Or are they actually praising him?
I'm curious to know.
I mean,
my theory is that Joe Biden is chilling on the side,
intercepting some of Obama's mail.
Then he calls in Hilary and Nancy Pelosi.
They sit in privacy and read anything interesting,
nothing about bill proposals or rejections
or letters of thanks from the people.
They open a few of the hate mail though,
with caution of course.
Then they come across envelopes from different venders.
The 3 then lay all of their options on the table
and pick the one that will generate the most controversy.
Rather they're doing it to tarnish Obama's reputation
or build it up and keep him popular through scandal is unclear.

I do know this, though.
"I'm mad as hell,
and I'm not gonna take this
Anymore!!!!"
Haha.
Word.

Snow Day: The College Edition

Just a lil background info
before I attempt this poem.
[I know right, I haven't put a poem in a hot minute.]
Yesterday Baltimore recieved snow.
My school closed before the snow even started to fall on the ground.
They closed at the mare possibility of it.
Baltimore is shook cause of the snow.
That's funny to me.
I remember goin to high school in a blizzard,
but that's just cause St. Benedict's ain't close for nothing.
It could be the Armaggadon, and we'd still have school.
No lie.
Anyway, here's my poem.


12 noon
sitting in class
staring at the clock
checking that the teacher doesn't notice out the corner of my eye
lowering my gaze to the window beneath the clock
focusing on the building across the quad
noticing a tiny white speck fall from the sky
wondering if someone is scratching their dandruff on the roof
realizing it's snow
hoping that afternoon classes will be cancelled soon after

2 pm
checking my email from my phone
loving that technology has come so far along
jumping for joy at the item titled "Campus to close at 3pm"
heading back to my dorm
determining if I'll catch up on work
wondering what my friends are up to
pondering if school will be cancelled tomorrow too

5 pm
drinking my fifth beer
noting that doing work around this cast of characters was impossible
thinking I should somehow back away
forgetting what I was just thinking
despising the option of being responsible
deciding it's a problem for future me to deal with

11 pm
wearing clothes inappropiate for going out in the snow
opting to put a windbreaker on
walking down the stairs with my boys
slipping on the snow on the ground
catching my balance without falling
hailing a cab to get to the bar
ignoring the fact that it's a Tuesday night
questioning why there are plows on the road

1 am
cutting myself off from the bar
looking at the girl across the dancefloor
dancing my way over to her
dragging her to the middle withou saying hi
utilizing the time I spent at high dances
wooing her with my charm
realizing she's not having it
letting her go back with her friends
walking back in shame
ordering another drink

4 am
eating at a diner
thanking the Lord I live in Jersey
exiting with a full belly
slidding down the hill on our asses
building an igloo in the parking lot
running away when we hear sirens
laughing at the fact that it wasn't for us
crossing a clean street
opening my mouth to catch the few snowflakes still falling
calling it a night

10 am
waking up still slightly drunk
checking my phone for email
hating myself for going out last night
missing my 9 am class
regretting none of it
creating my excuse to email to my teacher
loving college like a cliche


Hmm...
My fellow writing friend is right;
I do write a lot of poems about being drunk.
Sad yet true.
It's only the unofficial poems though.
Haha. I'm so college.
Word.

Deja Vu... Deja Vu

Deja vu: feeling as if you already saw or experienced something.

I'm sure we've all had this happen to us at least once.
We'll walk by a certain group of parked cars
and double back cause we swore we saw
the exact same cars months ago.
Changes are it was actually the day before,
but the feeling is still startling.

As far as my experiences with deja vu goes,
I know the source of them: my dreams.
I'll have a realistic dream,
nothing out of the norm happens,
I'll feel as if I've been there before,
and then I'll wake up and go about my day.
Weeks, maybe months, later,
I'll actually experience my dream,
not just the scene but the words as well.
Usually, they're only 5-10 second snippets,
but still,
when I first experienced it
I damn near pissed myself.

I would think I'm psychic,
but none of these deja vues[?]
have been significant.
They've always been just everyday things
that don't really need me to transpire.

For instance,
I was in class and a peer was raising an agrument
about a short story we read.
The words at the end of his point rung in my ears.
They continued to ring as another student followed.
The deja vu ended when she stopped speaking.
I almost wanted to tell my classmates about it,
but I shrugged it off and went back to looking down at my paper.

Actually,
I think I had a dream
that was an exact scene from Avatar.
Don't quote me on that,
it may have been after I saw it. haha

But yeah...
What's your take on deja vu?
How often does it happen to you?
As always, the flooe is open to discussion.
Word.

The February Plan

Ok guys, so it's February.
That means it's Black History Month.
In honor of the 28-day celebration,
I plan to blog everyday,
including the weekend.

Now all of the post won't be about black history.
No, they'll continue to be as diverse as...
let's say NYC.

As you may have figured out,
I don't have a particular direction for this post.
So allow me to just ramble.

Ah, yes.
Let me tell you guys.
So I was on twitter last night
and a friend posted something, I forget what it was.
But I want to reply with a Tim Gunn quote.
Well, I googled his name to make sure I spelled it right.
But I saw a link that caught my eye.
I clicked on it.
Would't you know that shit gave my laptop a virus.
Now my joint wildin.
Damn you Tim Gunn and your fabulousness!
You have no idea how much this saddened me.
Hopefully I can get it fixed this week.
I can't be laptop-less this week.
Not an option.
Anyway, I gotta go.
Til tomorrow my dear friends [and associates].
Word.