a little discomfort.

I keep doing this really weird thing where I call myself a poet. I’m comfortable with saying writer now, after several years, but for some reason poet is just a whole ‘nother strange jumping out of my mouth often without thinking. Not to my knowledge, it’s become this truth. Weird! Okay, I write poems- have for a while. But it’s a whole ‘nother thing calling myself a poet. Not sure why it’s different from writer. Maybe there’s a certain cockiness I worry that comes with it. I’m afraid of the stigma, but more than that when I say this people will attach certain attributes and accountabilities to me… ugh. Cause I’m going through this phase right now for uh… so, the last 20 years of my life.. well maybe more like ten, where I’m always majority writing “ooh boy” or “ugh boy/man” poems. I’m fully aware of it. That shit is hella wack to me sometimes. I get mad at myself for it, challenge myself to do different every once and while but, it’s always in there somehow. And I don’t know what that means. But what I’m saying is that, I’m not writing the revolution. Not really even a love revolution, makes me feel guilty. Like when I say poet, I should mean I’m changing lives or something, like I should be inspiring revolt, helping to fix something. Like it’s not sufficient that right now the something is just myself, and whoever else can relate. Weird, but I’m pretty comfortable with that. It’s always been me first, the only time I really let I be, completely and freely. It’s mine, these couple of words, and arrangements, and confessions, and maybes and an if, and fantastics of emotion in instants so true and so temporary, unless they’re lasting and I mean them for whiles, good ones, sometimes. But when I write I release, and I clear and that’s all it ever is, and trying to do more is contrived and edits should only be to tell the truth better. Someday I’m sure I will write things, big things, international things, human hunger things, race things, gender things, less subversive things… mmhm, sure, but I’m not there yet. And I don’t always know what I’m doing. Who really knows what I’m writing, and who I may be touching. Because I’m thinking if what I write gets me or you through a certain part of the day I’m doing something right. I should only write what I know (and what I won’t allow myself to know, deep down) anyway, right?

sue me.

i'm just gonna write the first couple quotes from love songs that i've been thinking about tonight.

walking through campus "God Bless You, you make me feel brand new. For God's blessed me with you." And, I couldn't think of the rest of the lyrics just those. The Stylistics are from Philly. Woot. M-effin. Woot. Mmhm.

"If you've never been in love/and you're longing for the happiness it brings/try your wings."
i actually need to "try my wings" in a number of different realms. great way to say, "task a risk, use what you got."

"i'm coming home to you/wear something see through/so i can see your heart"
-"Still Ray," Raphael Saadiq

and as i've quoted many a time

"Color my heart/Color my heart/make it restart/make it restart."


that is all. i need to take my behind to bed.

because they make me smile :j

RIVES.

revisit, renaissance

i'm oh dee late, taking it back 2 yrs but
Q-Tip's The Renaissance is where it's at. I just bought it today. I've had a tendency not to know what's going on in current music since I've been at college (maybe 'cause i don't listen to the radio?) unless someone tells me. No one told me about this. Shame on you! (and shame on me, i guess) Glad I'm staying in the loop through blogs/internet now.




youtube so mo' and then buy it. come on, you know Q-tip from ATCQ. has he ever disappointed you?

unrelated but this is my jawn. some more Raphael Saadiq, and D'Angelo is on The Renaissance too.

just when i thought it might not have been possible,

i've found a new thing to be afraid of. goodness me, i'm good. i really need to find a new skill/sick subconscious hobby. but i recognized it as soon as the thought formed, so i'm gonna start working on it now. though, it's one of those things i can't really control or detect without a couple years of living and mistakes, or not mistakes. aren't those the best fears?

annnnyyywho. i plan to wake up tomorrow. find some "cut that fear out" music and start afresh. maybe i should do that before going to sleep, but maybe i'll dream process it. we (I) shall see. mmhm. night night.

wait wait. i just realized... it's not new. i just remembered it, though I had buried it for lack of reason to fear. timing. the potential of missing my blessing. ill-directed and ill-spent focus and emotion  and lack of ability to find a balance. yeah, that's an oldie but a goodie.

this week,

there have been entirely TOO MANY times that I just wanted to sit down, fall to the floor in an elevator, my room, class, the street, etc and curl up into a ball. entirely too many, for me to still keep telling people "I'm good" when they ask me, "Hey, how are you?" and actually believe it. I think it's that these moments ebb and flow really. I've lost count of the little things that just keep piling up on top of each other, and accumulating and packing like life is trying to build me the abominable snowman of (should be) avoidable stress. Things were easy when I wasn't as present here. I'm still trying to figure out if I prefer this to stillness though. They're almost equally curl-up-in-a-corner inducing. And, it's not even like I can retreat, or like I really should anyway.

i dare you

to sleep on this song and this woman's voice.



I need to do better. I only know this song, "Either or Both," and "Poetry Man" (all great). I just remember I was in the car with my mom in high school, and this song came on the radio and she went on to tell me it was her jam and after hearing it i found it when i got home and had a marathon with it. yeah yeah yeah, other people have sung it but I'm true to Phoebe here. dope!