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UNTITLED 149

 

“What you about to witness is my thoughts
Just my thoughts man – right or wrong
Just what I was feeling at the time, uhh
You ever felt like this, you vibe with me
Walk with a nigga man – just vibe with me” –Jay Z (The Ruler’s Back) “Blueprint” 2001

I seen my cousin fall down some wooden steps before. The way his body tussled around was weird to see. His head flopping around resembled a cartoon. His body was all over the place as if he had just been struck backwards by a car explosion of some sorts. The way his body sounded as he hit each step was harsh. Very harsh. I rather get kicked in the balls then to have my bones feel that impact (I’m full of shit. No I don’t) I stood at the top of the steps and just watched a awkward moment clashed together with a accident. I swear I thought that motherfucker was dead as he got towards the middle. Luckily though, he didn’t. He was just in pain yet trying to hold it in somewhat so he didn’t come off as a bitch. Still though, even the hardest members of a Biker gang would give this a pass if they seen what I did. Oh and, no. I didn’t push him if that is what you were thinking

What’s funny is, while I watching him hit about the 4th or, 3rd last step one of the thoughts that went through my head was: “Hm. If he dies, I wonder who would take his N64 after the funeral?” That’s, crazy right? But, I was thinking that. I loved that damn N64. I mean yeah, I had my Playstation and it was cool but, N64 always looked more like a Video Game. Arcade shit if you will. I would of been the coolest kid on the block. Playstation and a N64? Jared from Subway would of traded places with me and I’m black. (Shout out to Chris Rock) I was thinking about all those games for a moment as he laid there unconsciousness for a good few seconds. A few seconds that might make you feel “Shit just got real” as that Kevin Hart meme dictates.  

I don’t really have a good real reason why I’m writing this. This really just, I don’t know, popped in my head just now. Random really. I honestly don’t know where this post is going. My cousin falling down the steps and busting his a long time ago just, BOOP. Popped in my head and replayed over and over again. Kind of like watching a old 90’s movie clip in Gif form. I should of had at least a few ideas crafted by now since I haven’t wrote a post since last month. This random off the wall shit is childish….. Minus the molestation charges of course. My mind is blank as can be right now. Shit, as far as Zen goes that is, well, perfect. (Unfortunately?) Yet, when it comes to trying to get some money and maybe start a business, Eh well, shit. I don’t know man I just, went back to that time in my head of being young watching and standing at the steps seeing my blood looking as if his neck had snapped into two places and INSTANTLY remember the feeling it gave me.

And yet, to be blunt minus the green like my mother every time she leaves the Casino, despite the severity of that moment which could of changed my life and my family’s life, it felt kind of, I guess, good to just write that down and, I don’t know man just, express it without having some kind of bullshit agenda underneath it. There isn’t a Zen tag attached to this post. There isn’t a philosophical tag attached to it as well. I just felt like saying some shit that felt, shocking I guess. Expression in the form of a NBA basketball player trying out new dunks for a Slam dunk contest or, a painter just grabbing the brush and doing whatever came to his or her mind in that moment. I couldn’t drink milk for about a month the first time I seen a girl squirt in one of my father’s porno movies. Again, I just took a quick break in trying to come up with a new sentence and, for some reason or another, another random memory popped in my head. A random and, uncomfortable memory but, shit. Its strange but honest. Its real. Its not a moment you could of found in a book, movie, song, podcast, whatever because its, mine. My I guess, truth if you will.

My truth. Like the time I mustered up the courage to finally ask a girl for her a number. She was a cutie too. A mini Jessica Alba if you will. I still remember the first time I seen her. Or, more so a part of her. She had bent over in class and she was wearing this lil purple thong and, whew. (Hmm. Cam this count as child pornography images in my head since I’m older now and she was 15 around that time? Nevermind) I grabbed my balls and finally asked her after pulling her outside of the class before it started. She always was outside talking with others. I had that shit memorize. Stalker shit if you will and, as I asked out loud (Not really loud but, back then for that situation it felt like it) She asked “Why do you want my number?” Burn burn burn. I made up a quick lie and she just shrugged it off and gave it. I felt like I did something but, nah. Far from it. Never called either. Getting the number was a big deal and felt like something was happening. It never did.

Or, my truth in which I used to known as the “Class clown”  back in my grade school days, being taken serious was a hard thing to do so, when I did try and do so I was looked at weird before people would laugh and think I was playing. Its like the curse of the comedian if you will. Point is at the lunch table once a group of friends  associates came by and grabbed at my tator tots. Clearly I wasn’t with that and stopped them using my hands but, they laughed it off and still grabbed at them and even threw some down my back. Granted it was all in good dumb fun. Had I really gotten mad and became serious I would of been seen as a “pussy” for not dealing with it. Guy code shit if you will. The worse part was that a lunch lady came by and asked if I needed more Tatar tots. He tone underneath screamed “Oh my god your balls must of been snipped when you were younger. I hope my son doesn’t grow up to be like you” She was sincere but, being embarrassed in front of women for dudes is maybe worse than a women being embarrassed in front of a chick she can’t stand. Man. That took a minute to get out. Not really but still, I’m thinking of not even posting this part and erasing it. I’m on the internet. Cool over everything is the motto right? My  my my truth. Our truth. Can it be considered the evil villain of cool? Anyway… 

(Don’t worry. Video will stop at the 40:40 mark)

Its a hard thing to fuck with to be honest. My, truth. My truth is not easy to digest and express yet, when I think or allow a bread crumb size piece to leak out as I talk with someone or make a joke about it as I kind of did up above with those two paragraphs it feels, liberating. In a world in which Prince dies one day and then is forgotten within the next, shock from the outside I am starting to see lacks staying power. In the moment its bliss but, so is bubble gum and coffee. Oh and, of course busting a nut. My truth though is a blood stain tampon that can be used in a murder investigation somehow. My truth is the fact that when you buy white sneakers black marks are sure to invade it. My truth stays. Our truth stays. It stings and hurts. Its part entertaining slash horrifying. Its a documentary minus the cameras. Or, in this era really not so much for the kids and even adults. The first time watching the “Blair Witch Project” and feeling like you were apart of a moment in time. A, fly on the wall if you will. That’s, my truth. Or at least, the technical side of it. The light bulb inside every human. 

Which, when you really step back and look at it as if you were a Alien from another planet, I call it “My truth” or “Our truth” but, what does that mean if we are all eating from the same table? If we are all sharing the same light to see through the dark? We are all drinking the same water and experiencing the same colors. Who here has seen a color no other person in human history as ever had before? Talking about my past is yes my past and no one has this story but me yet, what really is the difference technical wise between my old past and yours?  “My past” is really just two words formed together that create a sound, memory, pattern, visual (In and out of the brain) and history associated that we all share as one. A collaboration. Why would we want evil to vanish from the world? What is “Evil”? Is that not just something we created in opposition to the OTHER thing we also CREATED called “Good”? Is the creator of the WWE a pioneer or just a reflection of the same painting we all share? Can the idea be credited to even Vince? “Is pious pious because God loves pious, Socrates asks who bias to you seek”  Funny……… My birth month is separated months apart from the Gemini sign yet, I feel like I was born around the time of June. Two sides of the coin.

Its probably why I took so long with this post slash “Not post” to even come out. Its my shit. My property. My privacy in which I can’t or will never find anywhere else. It’s my experience as if I’m a proud parent like Casey Anthony describing her children. A pet owner speaking of his dogs and cats. Or me and my sexual cravings of the female body that I can’t speak with around people I work with beyond the generic and basic ones (Getting a BJ, Sticking it in her ass, Late night texts) All of that and more. Its mine all mine but, on the flip side simultaneously I want to share and express the shit. I want others to hear it and either get a laugh out of it or actually understand where I am coming from. I want and wanted to have my porn star and fuck it too………………Jesus. I just stopped around this paragraph and read over what I have so far and, I have no idea what the fuck I am talking about or what my point even is. And, to be honest, I am not really worried about it that much its, cool I guess. I actually still want to post this.

Its funny how even in my laziness and procrastination my blog still manages to be able to write itself. More delays and setbacks have made me take more time than usual for a new post. On my Twitter, I keep updating the  date yet never sticking to it. Its always distractions from books, family, new ideas, bullshit on social media, and a bevy of other shit that has kept me taking forever with this one. I just finished the video up above with the Jay Z interview and am sitting here smiling to myself as I type this out. I wasn’t even really seeking out anything. I just was looking at the archive of the radio station videos of Hot97 and found the gems in this video and the video down below. Both videos showing two sides of the same coin. My favorite one of course is the last few words Jay said about News and Politics up above and how in comparison it was like a artist looking for a big hook to sell to its public. The “Real reality” show. Its perfect man. Perfect and random moving at its own pace in my head like how this post came together. What I am writing right now though ironically goes against the video above, and supports the video down below in that, I have no real “hook” to give you, the reader. Yet, look at all of this shit I wrote that was birthed out of nothing. Nothing. You know the moment, THIS moment right now that everyone owns, and doesn’t own. 

Yeah but, there it is man. Staring at this keyboard creating words, sounds, patterns, memories, and visuals on this Laptop that aren’t mine yet at the same time is mine is a, trippy thought to give time to. Time? What is that even? Its 3:36pm now as I write this out. What does that even mean? Why can’t I just say “Eh, fuck those numbers. There is no time. I’ll sleep in the day and party at night” Why is that not a option for MY, and at the same time “Not MY” life unless I can afford it. Our…OUR spirits of who we TRULY are at our default setting levels as humans cost money to express. Money that WE created. Crazy. I think I’ll go with the picture of Pablo Escobar standing in front of the guarded White House for my main image. I feel Pablo minus the drugs (Some of us) and the murder(….well, some of us again) represented us of what we would do if we could unlock our highest level of expression, while the White House plays the role of “Authority” trying to keep control. It was “God mode” which people hate yet deep down roots for and wants to be. Is not every Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, or whatever not a extension of what we want or feel about ourselves? Fucking A. Hm. I’m cussing a lot in this one huh?. I blame NWA. There is a movie review of the film I have playing in the background. Its old modern day internet time wise but, fuck it.  I’m a bit high and always manages to catch something extra when I am. I should erase that sentence. It has nothing to do with this post. And, again, perfect. 

I don’t have a Hook to sell you. I mean, when I think about me and the concept of Zen, is it not really just a our greatest reference point in life? Like a home base when kids are playing tag. A main menu on a video game. The YouTube options screen. Or, a guarantee every porn you watch will have a cum shot at the end. Even from Amateur pornos who are suppose to be doing THEIR own kind of scene. My laziness in a way was like that. Zen, Religion, The Bible, Classic movies, books, films,  and all kinds of great history remains relevant simply because in the present it gives us something to believe in. As does the story we live and experience call our lives everyday operating together as one. “One band, one sound”. Both our truth and our prison. Do we really hate Donald Trump or, deep down this, “Moment of chaos” has a certain, “Technical” philosophy behind it which really makes us enjoy guys men and women like himself?

Anyway, that’s it for now. A family member just got arrested for some domestic charges and I am about to look into that. Thank you for your time in reading this. I do appreciate the views…… Its funny. This post and moment (Moments really) will once again become another “Scary Movie about Nothing” as soon as I press the light blue “Publish” button. My privacy will be another book in the Infinite library of the universe. Prince has passed and, people have had a feelings and reactions from their body because of it,  people have cried, made jokes, made videos that will get views off it, Apple music has made money off it, and so on and so on. A star is made which creates moments and fan bases but, only in death does he or she truly bring people together, for it shows that even the Gods of our time are as mortal as we are. After the news and impact of his death has passed, he too will be placed in the archives of life. I don’t why I just compared my blog to Prince’s impact and death. My ego gets ahead of itself sometimes. Until next time. Thank you

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Categories: Personal, Video, Writing, Zen

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