realization v. resolution

2010; it's time. new decade - new change.

final final.

in about 8hrs i will take my final final of 2009 &my final final at daemen college. - that feels really good to say (type). it's settled in with my friends on campus that i really wasn't coming back to daemen this time. i've been saying it for about a year, &this semester... i really found the determination to follow through with my words. i am a firm believer in "everything happens for a reason". i'm not trippin' about any of my finals, friends, or foes that i've made this year. i've had some really good times here. &i've had some bad. but all in all, college is the best experience of your life (or so they say). i mean what other time in your life are your parents going to pay thousands of dollars a year just for you to go to a strange town and get wasted every night?.... point proven.

this semester was one of a lot of realizations for me. i've grown as a person, more patient &more understanding of what i want in life, and my capabilities to achieve them if i'm focused on my fulfilling my potential. learned that friendships no matter how old can fall apart or simmer to an end for atypical reasons. after 3yrs noticed that if i do papers over a span of time instead of last minute they come out better. laughed because i thought the recession was a lie, till dudes were getting fired from workstudy. finally got that one dick of a professor who just shits on your life &thinks he's pericles of campus. & i've come to know that not everyone has common courtesy.

to answer the #2 question, (#1 is always: is your FB status true? you really aren't coming back?) i'm dropping outta school, moving back home with my mama, settle down, have a couple kids, &i'ma get on welfare.... LMAO, i jk! if i ever, lawd, ya'll really aint shit for letting it happen. - i'm going home, taking art &photography classes at one of the local colleges, then transferring out to a more art geared school. i only have 1semester to do this. that is my personal &professional deadline. -- again, i believe everything happens for a reason. on top of taking FT classes, i'll be working at my mums job in the mailroom, getting paid $9/hr to sort mail dealing with federal student loans.

i begin at the end. i know where i want to end up, i then go back and figure out how to get there. it works extremely well. i keep it 100, my mums paying $1,000 a month for me to go here &i'm taking all electives. i'm unhappy &cold. i'm a habitual hermit here. this is my 3rd yr &i feel no closer than to success than i did when i walked across proctorHIGH stage. &i'm scared as hell; i admit this.


 i'm going back to the beginning with the determination to come out on top at the end.
-- everything happens for a reason. daemen, i'll always be your 6th man. peace &love.

Plagiarism.

dear professor hammer,
i can't help that i am gifted with the talent of writing. that being said, your redINK accusing me of plagiarism leaks through the page to my eyes. i can't bullshit words - so idk what you want me to do, but i will not erase my words because you don't believe i hold the knowledge, which is an oxymoron because i am enrolled in a class (taught BY you) that covered this area of art. that being said, i have replied to every underline where you question my citation. i have no citation, unless you want to see "Williams, pg. mind".



 art history paper due by midnight .

(see what happens Dave? BS.)

Word.

“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.”


— Alan Watts

pet peeve.

When people find out that I’ma vegetarian they feel the need to access my lifestyle. I get told constantly that the reason that I am so tiny is because I don’t eat meat. When in actuality, I’m healthier since I don’t eat meat. I just felt my insides clogging anything I ate meat and was on a track to high cholesterol, diabetes, and heart disease (IMO). 2yrs ago I eliminated meat from my regimen. I never ate meat as a child, I was a “picky eater”, so it wasn’t hard. Anyhow now I only eat fish occasionally (because I’m allergic to seafood), and take vitamins to makeup for the nutritional supplements.

Still, 2yrs later, the only people who doesn’t nag me about it is my mum, my girlfriend, and Neke. Pretty much everyone else that I see on a daily basis, college friends &family when I’m home, they have something to say. It’s annoying. I don’t need you to read the menu for me &tell me what I can have. Complain that I’m trying to be “white” because I don’t eat meat.
[Or any other nonsense.]

Most recent one? - I was at dinner, I got a jalapeno vegg wrap &a plate of fries. Shelly asked me if I was a veg, I responded yeah…(she knows but forgets until I’m eating around her, and then she clicks like a switch). Then chick we were sitting with goes into this discussion:

“You dont eat meat?” - “Nah.” - “How long you been a vegetarian?” - “Like 2yrs now…?” - “Oh okay.” - “Why not?” - “Cause I don’t like the way it feels, like the texture.” - ….”Can I ask you something?” - “Okay…?” - “You like girls right?” - “Yeah…?” - “You eat the puss right?” - LOL,”Yeah.” - “So you’re not technically a veg.”

WTF you mean technically?! Lemme just say for the record.
The day that I can buy pussy from the meat case or frozen section of a store, is the day that me being a lesbian concludes my choice of being a vegetarian. But until then?
I can date chicks, and not eat chickens.

offTOP explanation.

Emotions are raw &therefore vulnerable to infection, &once that infection is in your system it's hard to get rid of. you may choose to get vaccinated, but that doesn't mean your body is strong enough to build up a defense -- &the biggest questionable susceptible infection we all are weak to is love.

Epiphany.

My mentor asked me a few weeks ago "Did you ever think about this - Who are you writing to?"... I've been thinking about this, on &off, I get into it deep with myself... I brush it off... I ask it to other writer friends of mines... to see if their answers hold an answer similar to what I've been searching for. Some satisfaction, so I can go to him &have a discussion with him, some approval or just an answer. But I have come up with none &anyone I have asked, has not come up with an answer.

"And then it comes to me, like an epiphany."

I'm not writing to anyone. I'm not directing my words; be it poetry, blogs, texts, IMs, or statuses to anyone. I'm writing them for someone. The ability of words to change a persons perspective on a situation, the way for words to cleanse the soul... there's a reason why people have a thing for melodies &quotes. There's a familiarization and comfort in the words we find. We can affiliate and associate through words. We can spark wars over words. We can dismiss feelings and emotions in words. We can make money in words. Beliefs in entirety are born from words. Words are power.

So I write for someone. For myself, for my love, for my family, for my friend, for a poet, for a foe, for a professor - for you Dave. I write. It's not so much a hobby, it's an questionable need, more than a habit, an addiction. If I do nothing else, I will write. I will write because it is all I know, and by me knowing to write, I know so much more in characters I build myself. Integrating myself structurally through the sculpting of the various forms of word; the smallest free form, an item that may be uttered in isolation with semantic or pragmatic content, in a language, in contrast to a morpheme, which is the smallest unit of meaning.

I find content in my content.

Ask Me.

So I know I've been slacking on the blogosphere lately. It's partly my fault, but mostly lack of inspiration. I don't have much to write about. I'm also going to be changing this blog up a bit in the coming weeks. Anyhow - I've open this blog up for people to ask me questions, as well as tell me anything that you'd want me to write about.

You can do this by Comment or by Email. I will get back to every request ASAP. *Peace
thatpoetace@aim.com

FCUKYOU.

dearASSHOLE that broke into my mothers car,

i wish you thee WORSE. i don’t care how bad you felt you needed it or why you felt the need to do it, my mum is single with 6children, including a 3yr & 1yr old. she works hard for everything we have &bends over backwards for us. you took not only belongings but all her ID &bank cards. you dumb fucking fuck. it is actions like yours that makes me lose hope &trust in society. man knows no good- so basically this is a big FUCK YOU,
FUCK YOU VERY MUCH.

I.O.U.

I feel like I honestly owe you guys something of essence. I've been selfish with myself lately, and I've been what some call ''melancholy.'' In all honesty, a lot of sht happens to me - &I don't mean that in any cliche way. At the same time that I feel like I owe you guys something - I have nothing to give. Not that I have writers block or anything, my thoughts are constantly flowing... but for better or worse terms; they escape me. I need a mind-scripter. Someone who will jot down every thought that I have &save it in some archival form because I need space for the new stuff that's coming in so I quickly lose the old. So I don't know where to begin, I don't know what to write about. For those questioning if I'm depressed because of my 'blue' blogs lately, I'm actually not. I've just come to the realization that talking about death &thinking about death - isn't that bad after all. &Once you learn how to die, you learn how to live. So I figure I'll just get this over with now... And deal with the living in the later. I'll try better, I let a blog go once... Like let it shtFLOP, it won't happen again. I'll start writing my thoughts down on loose leaf... on napkins... on candy wrappers if I have to &I'll blog about them. I feel like I should share, I have something to say. I just don't know how to say it.

[sideBAR|: to all the writers that I am friends with, those that I know personally &virtually - I am thankful for you guys. through you guys I learn &even though I am in school, if I got an education I would lack knowledge. so I just wanted to say that, every person that follows me &has a blog? I check your stuff out, I try to follow all my followers especially. If you want me to read over something of yours, for opinion or editing, just email it my way, and I promise you I will give you feedback.]

With all being said,I'll do a quick catchUP -  there's 8ight more days of class, and then finals week. i'll be roaming between boston &theCITY for all of winter break. i'm not returning to daemen next semester. i've been thinking about introducing chicken back into my regimen. i want to become religious again, but then again i don't think i can stop my blasphemous ways. i ran outta chocolate. &i'm divorcing my family until 2o1o.

I'll be around.
&UnLike Tupac, I don't get around.
But like Lauryn, I get out.