Happy Birthday Jigga.

Excuse me while I get all personal and shit…

One thing you know about me, if you know me, is that I love me some Jay-z. Yes, that was a mock of Beyonce. I have all 15 albums (collabs included) by Jay, some of ‘em I got double copies - hardcopy and digital. Just because I admire his talent.

My mother is a big Jay-Z fan. Son, when I was younger I remember my Mom driving around Brooklyn, always had to go to Marcy projects. I used to be like “Ma. Jay-z is not gonna be in no damn projects.” Even to this day she still love him, talking about “You know Sean Carter is your real father.”

Like knowing all Mary J. Blige songs, I grew up reciting Jay-Z’s lyrics. Not bias, I listened to Nas too, due to my father. Guess you could say I got the best of both worlds with my parents. Understanding the power of music, beat, and rhyme I fell in love with hip-hop. I did my senior class AP English project on “The Elements of Hip-hop”.

So now that I’m an adult, I have a deeper notion of content. I listen to music on different levels, for different reasons. And when it comes to Jay? I do that music head nod to whatever it is. His lyrical flow is so nasty. I feel like Jay-Z being ‘featured’ on any track is going to uplift whatever record he’s on, no question. The way he twists and contorts words is something that I feel like no other artist has been able to do - it’s authentic. That’s what I appreciate about his work.

For Jay-Z to be 40+years old, still producing record selling albums, with sold out tours, and signing the hottest new artist(s) in the business right now undeniably speaks for itself. I need not say anymore about him having “the hottest chick in the game” at his side. What more can I say?

Happy Birthday Jigga.

---

Photo: Designed & Created by Me

Already November,

Currently, I'm reading Huey. Huey's so deep and beyond some other shit that I've never come across, ever before in my life. Like he starts off this book with "I started studying law to become a better burglar". How more real can you get? In reading Huey, I've come to identify with him, his thought, and his logic. I smile at the things he says. Knowing that I should be more like Bobby Seale, in my efforts to bring about change, I find Huey more entertaining, more... eye for an eye type. Seems fair to me. I'm taking notes on Huey, getting to know him and getting to know pointers on this whole "America" situation I'm stuck in. It's definitely something for me. Something to me.


Besides reading, I'm working. Working on getting new place to work at. Because this new place isn't working for me. I've never been somewhere where everywhere you go everyone is miserable, thus their only thriving desire in life is to make the next person miserable. I feel like, in my heart I believe this, my old boss threw me under the bus - like a city bus or a school bus with like 60 screaming children on it. It hurt me, but at the same time I don't know why I expected much else. There was a bitterness at the end of my employment with her, seeing as how she would due to my departure have to work, I would be a little upset too. (Lol). So now I'm trying to piece together reliable people, who will speak highly of my work ethic and will give me the credit that I am do. It's crazy, it's like Massachusetts is a state full of taxes and plagiarizing mf's - who just want to get all the praise and not give you a raise. I'll show `em.


In other news, I'm looking forward to moving. This time it'll be to CT (I know, I've lived up & down the Eastern board). I'm really feeling good about this one, feeling like regardless what comes of it ; it will be a better situation than the one I am in currently. And I will take that with two strokes and a goldfish, do you understand me right now? Being closer to theCity, I'll be back on my scene. And back on my scene means one step closer back to me. Along with the plans I have to Love, things can only get better after being so far down. I'm ampd.



Seems like winter's going to be here a little bit earlier than predicted. I mean, the weather man is of no real use anymore. "It may be sunny or a chance of rain today" like thank you kumquat. I'm a little on edge right now. Like my brain is doing laps around and around and around. Slighty schizo, possibly, mental illness does run in my family.... Meh, I'll be around.



Salaam,

In my high school I was very much so the star student. Not to brag on myself, but I was indeed... All the above for the high school student in UpState NY. But lately what's been on my mind is the amount of writing that I was doing in middle and high school. When I graduated from high school everyone automatically assumed I was going to school for English, Journalism, some sort of writing. But I didn't. I enrolled as a Political Science major, left as a Graphic Design major. Though I didn't graduate, I thought I had figured out my niche in the career world. Now everyday, I'm thinking about if I should of went into writing instead, seeing as how it's been my passion. Had I been just so concerned about the money? The life I wished to live, achieve, you know the financially stable "successful" life... I have a problem with my generation. My generation is very concerned with instant gratification. I truly hate that, I hate the fact that there's really no originality & how people don't really have any self-identity. It's really hard to be taken seriously in among a majority of wolves. So where do I start again when I'm done where I currently am? Do I continue down the path that I believe will lead me to success, or do I go with my heart, my natural talent, and make the most of what can be my "situation"? Those are the questions that have been poking at my mind. I'll let y'all know when I've found the answer. Salaam,

Dear Twin Towers (A Letter from Zisa O)

truths89: Tomorrow is your ten year commemoration. And, I just wanted to take this moment to ask how the fall felt. Did those two planes, that were remotely hijacked, really make you crumble into dust? I mean, why did people hear explosions? People say you were flown into because people hate our freedoms. Ironically, ever since you defied the laws of gravity and fell like a building rigged with explosions, we seem to have lost many liberties. But really, freedom of speech ain’t the real thing no more. People live in grave fear these days.
We are stripped and searched every time we try to fly. There’s this thing called the Patriot Act, it was instituted because you fell. Sadly, it has invalidated amerika’s constitution. They say it’s for our protection. But even when I get on trains in New York, they say we can be searched at random. I feel so confused because I don’t know what they are looking for. I mean, I know you came down with bombs, but why would anyone want to bomb a train? Is it just me, or does this seem like a clever way to pacify the masses?
I often feel that people believe that your falling was the greatest amerikan tragedy. I wonder, you know? I’ve heard that Iraq became a missile target. I’ve heard that amerika invaded Pakistan, Afghanistan, parts of Yemen and elsewhere. I even heard that amerika has murdered over a million civilians because two buildings fell—mysteriously. Yeah, the 9/11 Commission Report doesn’t make too much sense—it’s a lovely tale though.
To be honest, I wonder how your cousin WTC 7 on 250 Greenwich Street fell. I don’t recall any planes hitting other buildings. And yet, that forty-seven story building fell just like you did. I suppose we could test the debris to perform a proper autopsy. However, your dust has vanished. I wish I could indulge in the commemoration many amerikans will partake in tomorrow, but the events of that day have left me puzzled.

Sincerely,
Zisa O.

(Source: truths89.

---

I was going to write a post, a thought/commentary on the 10th Anniversary of 9/11. But this? Says more than I could ever write.
Salaam

I don't feel like myself lately. I've been removed from everything that I believe, creates me. And I don't have any true time to sit around and restart myself, you know work on myself to get myself back in shape. I've been looking forward to 'change' for the longest, just made a huge life change & now I feel like more problems face me. It's not like I'm lazy, nor am I... dull. I am seriously just out of wack, it's like I need to take my body to the shop & get an alignment. I believe it's my environment, I feel like it's literally draining the soul out of me. I've moved into a different career but I'm still doing the same job. And I am making more money, but I truly realize the lyric from the infamous BIG - "Mo Money, Mo Problems". Damn. I have a plan but I'm pretty much winging it. I need to get it all together, but no matter how many times I jot it down, write it out, spread it out on excel - nothing is making sense anymore. I feel lost and confused. It could be a funk, but it could be more than that, could be [deeper] than that. Y'know? All I can do is pray that possibly, things get better. But who am I talking to when I send out these words? There's an emptiness inside of me. And I just want it to be filled up to the rim. Or at least halfway. Salaam,

At the age of 25,

I’m going to take a sabattical from my work. I’ll buy a plane ticket to somewhere, probably Belize or Amsterdam, and begin my journey of travelling for an entire year. My friends did this about 2yrs ago, traveled all over Europe and North Africa, once they were done they’ve settling in Brooklyn, NY. 

I’ve tried to build relationships & connections within all the ‘groups’ I’m apart of. A lot of lesbians (especially now) are messy and trifling. Colored folks are too busy worried about their “swag”, baby daddy, or some other nonsense. And my friends that aren’t concerned with that, don’t have the same life/circumstances I do thus we can communicate but we can never relate to one another. Oh, and I don’t like females but I really can’t trust too many dudes out here either. 

So that being said, I’m outties. Maybe it’s Americans that I can’t deal with. My best friend Kalani lives in France, and basically she’s been the truest of truth since 2006. The only exception to all those negatives live overseas. I think it’s time for me to do the same.

Salaam,

EverythingIAmNotMadeEverythingIAm

Everything I Am Not Made Everything I Am

In A Real Way.

Salaam, 

22,

A letter to me a year ago, this is what it would say: 

Dear You,

Life is full of things you don't understand, just yet but soon you will. Right now you're still growing up and there's still concepts that you can't grasp. But don't rush yourself, you'll get them sooner than later. I hope you will take hold of the important things; the things you can control now and work on what you want for the later. Don't bog yourself down by all the external, appreciate what you have going on inside and soak in those for that'll bring you the most happiness. If you ever are hesitant about something being right or wrong: it's wrong and avoid the conflict by just not acting. Remain silent when necessary, don't let your anger get the best of you. Education is important to you, but it will not solve all of your problems so do not beat yourself over the situation you're in. You're 21, you can only do so much. New England may not be where you want to be, but it is where you are - make the best of it and don't drag anyone else down with your depression. Friends are going to be friends always, but love only comes one in a million so cherish it. However always: put you first. Arguments aren't the end of the world so don't take them in that manner. Just talk it out, and when you can't hold in the tears anymore let them out because holding things in are more poisonous to not only the mind but the body. Stay strong in times of struggle and hardships, you will have very hard times but you will get through it if you just stick it out. Oh, you can't pick your family but you can decide how you are treated by them so make sure you check twice. Even though you have few in your circle take hold of those few and they will hold you up when you are weak. And if you ever have any doubts in your mind who you are and what you are capable of; just take a look in the mirror. I know you're still finding you, even at the age of 22, but don't rush yourself. You're only 22 once in a lifetime so let it ripen into fruition. 

I Love You,

You

Closer To My Dreams x Drake

In A Real Way,

In Store For Me,

• Getting a degree in Fine Arts - Concentration: Media & Design, then I will go on to get a degree in Architecture
• Premiere my clothing line
• Establish myself as a poet/photographer/activist (because I believe in giving back)

I need to re-work myself. I have a lot of baggage with me, my past continuously haunts me. But I'll make the best of my situation and prove to everyone that I'm living my life for me. Forget the book. I know, I have 5011 post about what I'm going to do. And I mean everything that I've ever said, because I said it (point noted). (Jean Grae line, don't cockblock). With things being the way that they are I've honestly moved beyond the idea of what I am and put that into motion. There's a couple things/people/situations in my way but I'm in the process of making progress. I've realized that I've become miserable over the last couple years, I think it's because I wasn't ready for r.e.a.l. life. But I've adjusted and figured it all out. Things are going to get hard, but what's worth having it comes easy? Feel me?

I know you do. So stay tuned, and stay high. I'll be in touch.

Salaam,

My Top 10 (Male) MC's

1. Tupac
2. Jay-Z
3. Notorious B.I.G.
4. Andre 3000
5. Nas
6. Eminem
7. Common
8.  Busta Rhymes
9. J. Cole
10. DMX

Black Daddy Syndrome,

So I work at a major retail factory store part time, as well as my first job (I'm like a retail bitch right now). And I was working a smooth 4.5hr shift yesterday, it was packed as ever and this African dude came up to me and asked for my assistance. No problem right, I don't mind helping any customer out with their shopping. But with him I was a little irritated because he had what I call "Black Daddy Syndrome".

Black Daddy Syndrome or BDS is the case of black fathers abandoning their children and then coming back as if nothing happened. This can be broken down more deterministically by the case of materialism. There's just something about Black people, especially, that believe that by buying their children nice things it'll compensate for whatever lack of love, affection, etc the child has undergone.

The initial question was "Can you help me", followed by "I have a 10, and 12... No 9, 10... No 10 and 12 year old sons, and I don't know what size they wear, what size would be good for them?"... "With boys it's icky", I told him, "depends on their height, size, weight, build... All that." He stared at me blankly, there wasn't even a hesitation or thought in his head as he said "I haven't seen them since they were very little". It took everything in me to not start PREACHING to this man, because I wanted to rip him a new one.

How dare you drop $150 in total on 2 BOYS that haven't seen you since they were however young, and think that's going to make-up for the lost years? I 100% would rather you bank this money you're about to drop on these hood-flooded sneakers and spend it on TIME with them. You can't make up time, you can't refund time. There's not enough money, kicks, or (clearance rack) t-shirts you can buy to make up for not being there for your children. He went from a decent pair of kicks for each of them, to a okay pair of kicks. He initially asked me to help him with a shirt and shorts for each child, but upon the realization that each pair of shorts was $18 he switched to 2 $7 tee shirts and a pair of kicks for each child. He maybe dropped $60 in total per son. How can you equate that to empty nests?

I know that the time I spent with my father means much more to me than any pair of Timberlands or North Face coat he ever bought me. And I know my brother Adam feels exactly the same. It's not about the money, it's honestly about the mentality. Why is this the case? Can someone tell me? Forreal though.

Salaam,

When I think about my career and where I'm going to end up, let's say in 10years. I don't see myself working for anyone. I see myself established as a designer in the community, my clothing line moving in many stores and boroughs, and I see myself at top notch. I don't low blow myself because then I can't reach my dreams. I have to take myself higher because everyone else is here to pull me down.

Taking a negative and making it positive - from this moment on.

Spoken Word Performance: Neighborhood Charter School

-----------------------------------------

On May 25, 2011 I was invited by Shannon Roberts to perform for her middle school students. Shannon Roberts was my English teacher in 7th grade. She actually taught me a method I use to this day when writing poetry. It was lovely to perform for the students, the questions they asked I was open to answering, and I enjoyed catching up with my former teacher.

I can't wait to work with the students next year. I will engage with Shannon's classrooms throughout their entire Poetry section, and the project that is partnered with the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston, MA.

Salaam,

Bastard

What happened to you
You used to
Drop knowledge on me at a young age
Beckoning me to walk the right path
Now you've started to kick back
Revert into a child
As you still swaddle the nipple of your mothers breast
Do you lack the muscle of your chest
Switching back and forth between sanity and reality
I used to know you
Speak proudly of the man who owned property
Had businesses and titles in his name
A father
So you taught me to be proud
And I always was
Until you started fucking up
You began to disclose the stigmas in your brain
Then you became
Nothing more than a statistic
Another black man down
Blaming the system for your careless mistakes
I don't want to say that the 10 of us are a part of the many you've made
But who knows what's going on inside your head
The other day
You told Grandmama that you had a divine intervention
Still you've yet to mention where this will lead you
Cause to me?
You're still on the wrong path
I don't understand how you got this way
And why are you so mad with me?
It is your blood that runs through these veins
So then I wonder what will happen to me when I reach your age
I've tried to become anything but you
Removed myself from all situations including your prescence
Because even though I am your child
You have narrowed me down to the sperm that dripped from your nutsack
Do you even remember when you said that?
Wretched man of wicked ways
You are an embarrassment
I never speak of you
Since I've never spoken to you freely in years
I am jailed behind this mask
Hiding my tears
Walking around life with this burden on my back
Fighting down the fears
And avoiding the issue
Because you are not the man that birthed me
You are not the man that raised me

You are no man at all.

I miss breakdancing.
I miss random late-night catchups.
I miss insiders.
I miss long AIM away messages.
I miss being able to confide in someone.
I miss laughing.
I miss bright kicks.
I miss Saturday morning cartoons.
I miss 3am trips to Wal-mart.
I miss my Cafe.
I miss thrift store shops with my Grandmother.
I miss driving on Route5 with my Grandmother.
I miss travelling freely.
I miss being able to wear fitted caps.
I miss the days of conversation.
I miss stir fry for dinner.
I miss playing chess over good conversation.
I miss learning from people, not Googling.
I miss inspiration.
I miss free-spitting.
I miss my fro.
I miss feeling individual.

Now I'm just a grey dot in the masses.

In A Way

Kinda funny how shit turns out. There's no running because in the end you're right back where you began. Irony or Result? I don't think it's irony, I believe that life knows that there cannot be a new without a finish.

The past 2 years I've spent blaming on everyone and everything else. Excuses became my crutch, explaining my obstacles & pretty much depending on them. When those got tired, I blamed people. Whoever it was, I just had a scape, a patsy. But now if you ask me I'm ready.

I'm finally taking true steps and actions to get myself on the right path. And though all this disaster and downfall is occurring all around me - I feel good. I've got a brand new outlook on life. To wallow in one's sorrow never does them any good. You have to get up and keep it moving. Because it's not the fall that matters, it's the fact that you got back up & recovered. So life is funny that way.

Might not be such a bad idea after all.

Theory of Creation

Damn, I was sitting here watching Amel Larrieux's video for "For Real". Realizing how beautiful she is, I Wiki'd her. Her mother is Afro-American & her father is Scottish-Dutch. Cool... Then I thought of how pretty those mixes always are. Nigerian and French, Afro-American and German: Mixes. And I thought of my co-worker, Deb, whose daughter, a 17year blonde, has told her that she wants to have a baby with a Black man. Not because of his strength, his struggle, or his beauty - but because her child will have "curly hair and juicy lips." Then I got to thinking about my own views of having children & I too, have always leaned towards having a mixed child. Lately I've been saying "I need to find a man that's tall, creamy, and handsome" ; a play on the "tall, dark, and handsome". My favorite ex-bf (yes, I know surprising to my readers, I have dated 2 guys my entire life & have never had sex with either of them, FYI) is Hispanic. He's tall, creamy, and handsome.

Am I shallow for thinking this way? I mean really - I just want to have a beautiful child. And I know that genetics are scientific, but looks don't always come out as we think. Just google one of those baby maker things, two beautiful celebrities will have a Freddy Krueger looking baby, LOL.I feel like a traitor, a racial Benedict Arnold. But it's not just the looks, it's also the culture the child would have. Being of mixed background myself, I've always been able to embrace the spectrum. Though my skin is darker and my hair curls up oddly, I have only recently experienced ignorance because of my complexion. I'm 21, so that's 20years of not having to deal with the enigma's of being colored. It has also made me stronger, it has made me not break under the pressures of the system, it has made me not be a victim. I've never needed an "Intervention" to sort through my problems, I never ran to a drug or alcohol to deal. Cause where I'm from it's just something to do among the rest of the bs you face.

It's only recently that I've actually thought of having children. And as I think of it, a lot of my reasons for not wanting a child have been selfish and full of fear. Even as I talk now about having a child, I always say "When I have this child, don't forget about me. I need to be held too." The fears of responsibility, not being a good parent, & the pain of birth have all been heavy on my list of child abstinence. But I've come to learn the beauty of having a child, the pride in that connection, and the decreasing of my selfishness being replaced with the happiness in the idea of sharing mys.e.l.f. with another being, a being of me.

So there's a lot that goes into the plans. It just struck me odd - it just struck me hurtful. But I've also always had this theory that the world will not erase racism until races no longer exist. Until you cannot an Afro-American from an African, until you cannot tell a Bosnian from a Russian, a Mexican from a Dominican. Until those lines are so blurred that everyone is just as creamy as milk.

Maybe having a child of my own will prove my hypothesis correct.



Salaam,


-------------------

Editors Note: I know it's weird, but this is not to be mixed with my sexual identity. This is just a personal rant, a freeing of thoughts. Because I still feel "better" or more comfortable when I look at myself as a (genderlyspeaking)male. Yet the idea of bringing a child in this world, comes from I guess you could say the 'female'.

Bursting Out...

I could just be writing words here, or spitting some truth
I could just be free versing these curses
And I could just be talking about you
But still
It don't matter what the purpose is
All I know is that we're conflicted
Hard sound bits and screams of worthlessness
Damn
Sucha cold world after all
Because my light hasn't shined bright for 6celestial stages now
Yet I'm on the hunt to get that sunshine again
You
Could be my sunshine
You could be the reason behind my rhymes
Behind the scene writing the scripts to these scenes
You could be what makes my heart burst at it's seams
You could mean so much more to me than me
Where are you Love?
Why aren't you here next to me?
Beside me where you're supposed to be
I'm looking for you closely
Particular in every movement and scanning all around the room
Your eyes used to spark the fire that churns inside
Now that fire has started to die
Rocking here trying to get some momentum to get me off my back
Because I'm starting lack
The feeling of life in my veins
I'm starting to feel like I'm going insane
The voices in my head telling me that you are dead
But my heart still beating
Oxygen still pumping this vessel to get to the finish line
So I wonder if I'll finish this poem in time for you to hear
For you to listen
Because I'm able, hoping, and willing to love you till the world ends
I'm ready to let your love mold me and bend me to your wishes
I'm ready to be blessed by the taste of your lips
Only if I could

-----

Salaam,

Fools Rush In

I've been looking for love in all the wrong places. Everytime I found someone interesting & attractive, and became monogamous to/with them - I made that person the center of my world. One of my ex's, like 3years ago, told me that I rush into love too fast. And at the time I thought she was being spiteful and being hateful towards me, afterall this was right after her telling me that she was playing me for some other female. Digg? Right. But sitting here thinking about it I agree, sorta.

Love is something that has to be nurtured and catered to. Once you stop doing that and start pushing it into whatever "idea" you have it to be - you fuck it up. Trust, take it from me. I have done a lot of stupid things lately, because I had this idea of love and what I wanted. It's also a very selfish manner of going about things. Because a relationship is 2-sided, always. And if it's only one-sided then you'll look around and soon realize that you've been doing everything for yourself. Not for your relationship. And you're alone. Lol, word.

So my advice to you is to not rush love. Definitely don't push someone to be in a relationship with you, because if they're not ready - they are not ready. And then you just gonna be mad and bitter, breaking up something brand new, looking like a damn fool on Facebook. If you're already in a relationship and you're struggling to keep it together, step back and look at why there's the rifts there. More often then not it's a lack of communication. Just because you're listening doesn't mean you're hearing. Cause I damn sure ain't been the best at that one.

But I'm trying to change my ways.

Dead Zone: L_ve

Relationships.

I'm not too good at those things. I've always connected to songs of desperation, of emotional turmoil, of lacking intimacy & commitment - I've always been terrified of l_ve. You see, my mother never really showed me how to l_ve. And my father has told me that I am nothing more than the sperm that dripped from his nutsack (I quote that). So when it comes to my best examples of l_ve & relationships, I don't have too much to base my experimentation on.

Yet I've tried. I've been in a solid 4 relationships, I've also had my share of encounters/relations. I consider myself who learns from their past. But being a cancer also means that I usually develop a fear from my past & try to avoid it at all cost. Resulting, I am not at all easy to l_ve. Though I am extremely sensitive, I am guarded. I often formulate these ideas in my head & (self)conclusively I shut myself down. Thus, shutting l_ve out.

Without that spark/inner-light, I zombify myself. I do what I believe is "right" because Being forbid I'm wrong. So dismissive that I check myself out of everything around me. I mesh into this shattered individual sifting through days like flour in between fingers. In a lot of ways I make my fears/past come true.

I force myself into this dead zone. Into this cemetery. And thus buried along with my heart, is my relationships. My emotions. My person. And when it's final dug up, you look around & nobody is there at your tombstone missing you. Instead, you are nothing more than a plastic stick w/ a note on it that's blown away in the winds of past days.