Writing in Public Places

Recently I have taken to writing around people.
I don't understand how others do it.

Perhaps it's because I'm too easily distracted.
An interesting conversation will draw me in without fail.
One would think I would wisen up and take notes,
but I feel like that's an invasion of privacy in a sense.
[And no smart writer writes about his friends in front of them.
He does it behind their back in the comfort of his own home
while changing their names like a professional.]

Usually, people who write
in public places are seen as egotistical.
Setting up shop in a small coffee or sandwich joint, they type away feverously in hopes of someone asking what they're writing.
When someone finally becomes bored or eager enough to ask the writer responds, "It's a suspenseful drama about the trials and tribulations of a Mexican boy as he paddles across the Indian Ocean to reach Scotland."
Before you can point out their mistake,
back they go to pretending
they're too busy to notice you.
This is most likely because they realized they sound like an asshat aloud too.

My intention for bringing my laptop around people to blog isn't as vain.
I actually hate when people look over my shoulder as I type.
In fact, I just swatted a kid's eyes away from my screen 5 minutes ago.
Multitasking was more so my goal.
I figured I'd come hang around friends, eat some food, write.
The first two are accomplished with ease.
The last ends up being a bastardization of the post I intended.

If you're wondering how this post turned out so well
it's because I took advantage of the 15 minutes
the change in between classes allotted me.

So, will I continue to write in public places?
Knowing my stubborn ass, yeah.
Do I advise it?
If you have a strong self-will, by all means go right ahead.
Just make sure you buy one of those privacy screen for your laptop.
Word.

Picky Over Forever

It's real easy to become desperate when you're single.
You see couples walking around and get jealous.
You think, "Why can't I have that? I'm good enough,
I'm smart enough, and gosh darnit, people like me."
[shout out to whoever gets that reference]

But I must advise all the single people out there:
don't get in a relationship for the sake of being in a relationship.
There are few things worse
than being attached to a person whom you don't care for.

Take it from me.
I have been known to pursue people who don't want me.
It's sort if a bad habit of mines.
But ever so often, I'll get someone who's interested in me.
Oddly enough, 4 times outta 5, I don't want them.
However, it's not like I pull all of stuff in myself
so I give them a shot.

That shot is almost always a straight miss.
So I'll just leave it
and alone I am again.
But being forever alone isn't that bad when you know the alternative.
Word.

The Social Conspiracy

By now most of us have experienced the new Facebook timeline.
By now most of us have complained about it.
People have already told us to get over it like every other facebook change.

However, I noticed something highly... suspicious.
This week the social network Google+
did away with their invitations
and opened its gates to the public.
So the same week
Facebook decides to alter its timelines
to the point of nauseating its visitors.
It's almost as if Zuckerburg wants people to hop on the Google train.

Now as it is, Google and Facebook has the internet on lock.
Almost every website you go to allows you to log in through them.
Anyone who uses the internet goes through at least one of them.

If you allow me to become
a conspiracy theorist for a moment,
I believe Facebook may be bowing out to Google.
Zuckerburg may have some stock in Google and wants to make a major move.
Cause I feel like Google $ is to Facebook $
as Jay-Z-Kanye $ is to Baby-Weezy $.

In a worse case scenario,
Facebook and Google merge.
Then all of my fears will have become realized.
We would all be trapped in the Matrix.
Think. Even if you delete your Facebook,
Zuck still knows how to find you, and so does the government.
We're all stuck in the world wide web
and the Google spider is coming to get us!

With that said,
Twitter is an angel among the mortals of social networking.
She will never change so much as to alienate us,
and I love her for it. #addictedmuch
Word

PS, if Facebook is only going to fade into the background
do you think Justin Timberlake will buy that too?

How Poetic: Voltron

Left arm whizzes right

Right leg slugs left

Right arm tumbles right

Left leg stumbles left

An orb circles from a distance

Torso ascends from the floor

Light fabrics fall from traps doors

      Tiny baby blue booties

      Medium white shorts

      Reasonably portioned red shirt

      Oversized nightcap striped to match

How backwardly patriotic it was

All components approach each other

Joining for brief instances

Realizing the combination is askew

Searching for the proper balance

Each time seemingly less hideous

Until all falls as it should

And the orb leaves its planned course

Landing firmly atop the masterpiece that has become

A bright flash of creation

Blasting heat of animation

Existing from the womb

Joining the world

But its heart was not committed

That baby doll was so life like on life support

until it wasn’t a doll.

It's My Birthday! ...Not.

Those who are my friend on Facebook
are familiar with my songs of the day.
Sometimes I pick the song out the day before,
other times I'll just hear it on my iPod that day and throw it up.

Yesterday, Virgo by Ludacris, Nas and Doug E Fresh came up.
It's a pretty catchy song that most people don't know
so I decided I would post it during Virgo season.
Upon googling it, I discovered we're currently in Virgo season.
A mischievous grin instantly appeared on my face.

When I woke up this morning,
I changed my birthday from June 14 to September 14
and posted the video as a happy birthday wish to myself.
I closed my laptop and went about my day.

Two hours later, at least 25 people wished me a Happy Birthday.
I slapped my knee, laughing in victory.
However, 10 of my friends were able to realize it wasn't the day of my birth.
The first two people to call me out were my best friends from high school.
I knew they would be quick to call bullshit,
because like real friends they know me.

They called shenanigans within twenty minutes of me posting the Virgo video.
Yet people still continued to wish me a happy birthday.
I found that a little odd and disturbing.
I'm not the first to pull this prank.
If a person's birthday suddenly appears out of the blue on Facebook,
you're damn sure I'll scroll down to see if anyone's blown the whistle on them.
Once I've found them to be a fraud,
I'll continue on my merry stalker way.

This is why I've been wishing fewer and fewer people happy birthday.
Before, if your name came up on that right hand side
you were guaranteed a wall post from me,
even if I looked at our wall-to-wall
and you had never spoken to me.
Now, only people who I actually chill with are blessed with my good tidings.

As social media rages on,
the interaction on the sites become more and more trivial.
Well, no. That's mostly just on Facebook.
Twitter and Tumblr are still quality, especially Twitter.
Think about it.
Even with the chat feature,
how many people do you talk to on the big F?
Probably the same 10-15 people, if that.

Let's just say this little experiment
would have me one step closer to deactivating my account
if it weren't for the fact that I would lose my main source
of viewership for this blog. haha
What can I say? Zuckerburg has a hold on us all.
Word.

Burlesque

I can no longer say I've never been to a strip club.

Well... no, I could.

It was a burlesque joint so it was classier,

but bitches were still taking the clothes off.

Let's be serious.

How and why I went to a burlesque joint isn't important,

just know that Baltimore has so much to offer.

The establishment wasn't too sleazy,

just one dark room with a bar and a small stage on each side.

Most of the performers, we'll call them, used the stage with the pole.

You see why I think of it as a strip club.

The first chick was skinny and coked out looking.

She moved slow and worked the pole like a lazy hooker.

When she took off her top, pasties covered her nipples.

Really, they covered her breasts.

She was a member of the itty bitty titty committee.

Most of them bitches held memberships.

No breasts, no cheeks, no face.

It's enough to even make a gay man sad.

I am so team thick girls it's not even funny.

So after a parade of skinny bitches on the pole,

a skinny bitch wrapped herself up in fabric hanging from the ceiling.

She took us to the circus real quick. It was much appreciated.

Then a skinny bitch decided to shake her bare tits around.

It was dark, but her areolas wouldn't look appetizing to an infant.

I was not amused.

For the last performance,

the second stage was utilized.

The lights were dimmed low.

Next thing I knew

two bad bitches walked out and starting doing their thing.

They actually had cheeks.

They didn't give themselves a round of applause 

but they were so much more entertaining than the other girls.

But all in all,

I had a good time.

Next time, I gotta find people to hit up a male equivalent though.

Word.

Prof Charles, no Xavier

Before I started my freshman year of college
my mother asked me this question:
"Why don't you try to become a teacher?"
"...no thanks. It's not for me," I replied.

Sure, it can be hard to find a job as a Writing or English major,
and becoming a teacher is a nice fallback.
The world will always need teachers,
but I couldn't see myself being one.
This is largely because of my speech impediment.
How can I teach children when they can barely understand me?
What if I mispronounce a word and they say it like that for the rest of their life?
I didn't want to mess any kids up like that.

Fast forward to the Summer of 2011.
A broke, bored college student
finds it difficult to find a job
until his church reaches out to him
to tutor children in reading and writing at an enrichment camp.
He works for free, but as stayed before
he is bored.

At some point I found out I was teaching math as well.
Most Writing/English majors would buckle upon hearing that,
but I've always been better at math than writing anyway.
I just don't enjoy it as much.
Rather, I couldn't see myself enjoying a job that entailed
cranking equations all day.


The children I was given charge of?
Let's call them... inner city youths between the ages of 6-12.
Niglets. I mean black.... they were black.
Reaching an age group that wide would prove to be a challenge as well.
I'll never know how teachers in the olden days did it.
I commend them.
I ended up splitting my kids up into halves though:
little kids (8 and down) and big kids (9 and up).

I didn't have a textbook or anything,
so I made up my own curriculm as I went along.
...I mean I had a syllabus. Yup, sure did.
Worksheets I found online did help structure my class, however.

How was it to actually tutor/teach kids?
Well, as expected, I found it difficult at first.
I felt as frustrated as Mr. Cartmenez:
"How do I reach these kids?"

Well no, I lied.
Math was easy to teach.
The kids actually wanted to learn that.
Mostly because it was like a competition.
Kids love to be able to say they're better than someone
so I used that to my advantage.
Don't worry, I told the kids not to say,
"Why you so slow? You so stupid. Gosh!"
One little girl kept saying it anyway, though.
It got her sent out the classroom a couple of times.

No, English proved to be the real challenge,
which hurt me as not only a teacher but a writer.
They considered it boring or hard.
Taught the wrong way, language arts can be rather boring.
And the English language is without a doubt a hard language.
But I still tried anyway.

I created vocabulary list and held spelling bees.
I held grammar lessons (because let's be honest,
most everyone's grammar in the hood is atrocious, including adults).
I even printed out short stories for them to read and comprehend.
Everything didn't reach any child,
but every child took something away from my lessons.

But all these feels static.
I should tell you about the children.
For the most part, they all called me Mr Charles.
I mean, I am an elder to them so it made sense.
I didn't feel like being called by my last name though.
That would have made me feel too old.
Some of the kids called me Uncle Charles for a while.
That was cool, too.

When I came to teach,
the kids would usually be at recess.
Seeing me meant recess was over,
so of course some kids resented me for it.
One had even more reason to resent me for mispronouncing his name all the time.
It wasn't even one of those ultra ghetto spectacular names, either.
It was just two letters.
But one of those letters was an R.
My mouth struggles to make R-sounds,
so it comes out more like a W.
Mispronouncing a student's name
wasn't my only speaking fail,
but I was able to overcome it.
Most of the kids were able to understand me enough.

They heard me whenever I yelled, as well.
They're kids. Bad ass little black kids.
I expected to have to yell at them to be quiet and pay attention.
It honestly was my least favorite part of the job.
Screaming always gives me a headache.
Eventually I stopped shouting at them and sent them out of the room
whenever they became too much of a hassle.
After seeing the leader of the camp,
they would usually return quiet and ready to learn.

Remember how I mentioned kids loving competition?
Well at some point or another, they all wanted to be my helper for the day.
What kid doesn't enjoy feeling important?
I used that to keep them quiet and in check as well

In fact, some of the kids kinda played teacher's pet to me.
This one kid, he kept trying to impress me.
It made me like him and I started to treat him like a little brother.
I found this was bad as far as demanding respect in the classroom.
But he disappeared two weeks later.

By disappeared I mean that his parent(s) stopped bring him to camp.
Kids were always coming and going.
I think I had 5-7 constant kids
and that's only because they were the kids of the counselors of the camp.
Because of this, I realized I wouldn't be able to teach everything I wanted.
I never set an end goal for my english lessons,
and I only made the little kids practice adding and subtraction over and over.
But the big kids, I wanted to get to decimals and order of operations.
I guess I should be happy though.
I got them through multiplication, division, and fractions
including mixed, addition, and subtraction.
I was on multiplying and dividing fractions when camp ended.

I sincerely hope I taught the kids enough to put them ahead
or at the very least catch up to their classmates.

As I typed that I realized how much I actually care for those kids.
I think that's what really makes a teacher:
their level of commitment to their student's excellence.
Needless to say, I'm reconsidering my job options.
With a year left of school, I might just take some education classes
to make my career as a teacher more of a possibility.
Next time, though, I'm dealing with teenagers.
Teaching the fundamentals is draining.
Word.