I’ve decided to participate in Inktober this year (google it), but I let myself slack off for over a week. Well this morning I stumbled in after “drunken wing night” with my girls and sat down and caught up with that shit. It’s pretty illegible, so I transcribed it here for clarity because–though drunk–some of this shit is gold. <3 Enjoy!
It ain’t rocket science: the one that fucks with me like I fuck with me is the finest. Because I fuck with me heavy and I know me. Muhfuckas pop in the DMs with some random compliment—just their opinion of what you were doing regardless of their existence—and get offended when the response is silent reception. You have to ignore the whole existence of women and men and compliments and intentions to be offended by that shit. Niggas want returns with no investment. I was in a very serious long-term relationship that ended as soon as I realized my partner was completely unsupportive of the things I needed to do for my own, personal growth. He took every step I took toward self-knowledge as a slight to him or a critique about who he was. So I dipped.
ON SOCIAL MEDIA:
The internet has always been a writing game to me. When social media got into the game, it was like writing, then also making sure the right words are juxtaposed with the right photo. So if you are cute and you can write, you’re probably going to do fine, online.
The most beautiful thing you can be is honest. And I’m not talking about what you put out. I’m saying being completely honest with yourself—you gotta do some fuck shit on this planet—fine. This shit is fucked up, navigate it my nigga. Play ya games, bust ya moves, but KNOW YOUR SELF. Muhfuckas can’t tell you shit after that. Even if they try.
“Fuck humility” is my stance off top, but what I really mean is fuck unwarranted humility. On the flip side: fuck your unproductive ego too.
I believe my love for hip hop stems from an appreciation for a properly placed boast. I’ll always see hip hop as a violent protest that you cannot POSSESS the light. I’ll always see it as muhfuckas thinking you were lit because of the government-provided instruments and after school programs…and the old folks let them take the shit and the YOUNG folks reminded EVERYBODY it’s some shit you CAN’T TAKE. And yeah—when you take a record player which they told you is used like THIS—and you decide to use it like THAT, THEN you let your homeboy get on the mic and talk shit about how you the best at THAT. OR…if they tell you stand up straight and move calmly on your tiptoes to the sounds of the strings to be respected and you build a code of ethics around being able to contort to the DRUM beat. I will forever give thanks for your ego.
ON SELF LOVE & SELFISHNESS:
These terms are synonymous in my mind. One just has a negative connotation. And because I choose selfishness as a road to compassion, I know you gon’ fuck with how I put this to you. (hahaha…I stopped right there)
ON MY BRAIN:
Not my head game. That’s so respected niggas won’t even mention it because they greedy. We gotta stop right there because I’m faded and I got so caught up on that joke, I forgot what I wanted to say about how my mind works. Hahahah! BYE! 🙂
If I was a part of a tree, I’d be the bark, I think. Because I feel like I’m somewhere in the middle the way I can see and appreciate all the parts and stages of a tree. I can feel the vibration of the roots talking to the soil—and the nutrients pass through me to the fruits and flowers but they just don’t linger there. So I know the roots gave ‘em to me and I know the gig is to pass ‘em on to more roots and that’s it.
I’m desire-driven. Everything is becoming more and more subjective as I travel along. I write and read fiction obsessively so I can IMAGINE scenarios. More accurately: I can’t NOT imagine scenarios. When I say philosophy—I mean how I make my decisions. How I decide how to conduct myself on the planet. So much of that is based on the craft of writing fiction. From having to create characters that you KNOW well enough to predict how they would react to the scenario you put them in—to how/when/where to place a word to inject an image into your reader’s mind—to religiously scrutinize your completed stories with fictions number one rule in mind: SHOW DON’T TELL. I mean…this is not the time and place to discuss all that shit, but that’s like the foundation.
MAKE LOVE & DO WORK,