M.I.L.A.

Man I tell you, all it takes is one verse, one beat drop to change a person's life. It's amazing to me that there is a song for every life situation. No matter what issue may arise everyone can find a song that is kindred to their spirit. I also know that  not only is music fantastic to relate to but it can actually turn your entire mood upside-down. If I'm having a rough day and a jam comes on, I'm so busy dancing that by the time it's over, it takes a minute it even remember why I was in distress in the first place. I literally listen to music every single day without fail. In all honesty it keeps me level-headed especially when chaos ensues, which is unfortunately often. Music provides a specific type of healing that you just cannot acquire in other ways. Music Is Life, Always. Music does not deceive nor mislead. Music, although possibly egregious within it's diction, is never necessarily harmful in intention. That is more than I can say for many of the individuals I have come across in my short lifetime. People tend to judge, joke callously and break hearts they don't even know that they have in their pocket. People tend to lie and steal and have the audacity to blame you for having the money available in your wallet. People tend to be senseless. Music is honest. Music is precise. Music is there for you even after the person you love most in the world has closed their eyes to go to sleep. The most powerful thing about it in my humble opinion, is that it does not die. People have ambiguous expiration dates but music is forever. And thank God for that. It does not get any more profound than the emotion that a really beautiful song provokes.

Obeisance

I  aspire to so much. I know that's an interesting way to start off a blog but I was just thinking about so many  advocates before me and quite frankly I  just want to take a moment to say I'm so blessed to  be apart of the movement. I am prideful that I have such a hard act to follow. Strong, humble hardworking people who have sacrificed just about everything is order to say something everyone else was afraid or too ignorant to acknowledge. People like Ida B. Wells who was one of the first   female African American muckrackers (journalist) I'm sure it's implied she was a feminist of her time and all the more fantastic in light of that. Or others like W.E. B. Du Bois and Medgar Evers, One who started the NAACP and and another who was a prominent member of the civil rights movement. I can only hope that  I can  impact others the way they impacted the people of their time. I'm not saying I want to DELIBERATELY be a martyr for the cause but because there are still such grave injustices out there if I bring them to attention and then happen to go with God in the process then I'm okay with that. Because if you're not willing to die for what matters to you then what's the point of living anyway. Unfortunately, suffering is everywhere but it is up to us and when I say "us" I mean those who are just about sick of being silent, Black,White, Hindu, Asian Sikh Everybody. it is up to us to decide whats worth suffering for and what steps we can take to minimize destruction all together.

Clones

The more you try not to be like your parent(s) the more you find yourself becoming them. It's a sad conundrum but inevitably the circle of life. I mean, that's not to say if your parents went to jail you're gonna go too, or if they do drugs you're gonna do drugs too. No. Absolutely not. For one those are preventable circumstances for any individual no matter how shitty or un-shitty (that's probably not a word so I'm gonna coin it now) your upbringing is or was. However, I'm slowly realizing it matters in the nuances of one's personality. I used to hate it when my mother glared at me while  I ate, as if to scold me mentally because she didn't like the way that I  would chew. Mind you I never smacked my lips because that would get you smacked...right in the mouth, but she always would catch me when I was eating the crunchiest things like a pickle or Doritos. What she didn't get was if something was crunchy enough and a person is close enough you're going to hear them munch whether their mouth is open or not. There's a name for hating the way someone eats it's called: Misophonia. Now I just want to make it clear that even though I can identify the fact that this is an actual thing it doesn't stop me from going completely ape shit when someone is chewing in a way I obviously can't tolerate. And it's such a petty thing that I find myself thinking "why are you going off on this poor soul? You hated it when she did it to you. Cut it out." Clearly, "cutting it out" is easier said than done. And it doesn't only apply to anger either in fact the one summer I spent away from my immediate relatives the cousins that i reconnected with insisted on calling me a mini version of my mother that whole summer. Why? Because of my laughter. When my mother was in an exceptional mood and something was especially funny, she would unleash this visceral almost mean sounding laugh and  as luck would have it when I'm REALLY cracking up my laugh is identical to hers. What makes it even more substantial is that I only ever heard that particular laugh on one other individual ever in my life and that is from my maternal grandmother. What are the odds right? Very likely actually. There are going to be people reading this thinking well my parents are the greatest thing since sliced bread and I would be honored to be like them. And to that I say fan-freaking-tastic I'm happy for all involved. If you have a good influence in your life follow suit, uphold it well and then proceed to surpass it's greatness. But if not, don't fret. All you can do is take the mistakes your parents made and treat them just as they are. Learn from them and do your damnedest to prevent that type of history from repeating itself. So be mindful, noone wants to be see as the carbon copy of someone else. Uniqueness is where it's at, everyday, all day.

Explosive

Once again, I've allowed my passion;blabbing away to my hearts content about whatever floats my boat, to be benched by the chaos that is my life at times. I honestly believe that my head would roll off my shoulders if it wasn't attached to my neck and my heart would follow suit sauntering  naively  away if it wasn't compassionately held back  by my rib cage.The good new is that because I've been on this little mental vacation the flood gates have opened and I'm oozing thoughts. So many in fact that I might do some of what I like to call bomb writing or rather "bomb blogging". Bomb blogging and yes the terminology is MINE but the idea itself belongs to every writer ever in existence. It's when you have so many ideas that you cant afford to write down because they won't have the same organic visceral effect as the whole 'from the heart out of the finger tips' feel, so instead of running  myself ragged trying to remember every sacred little detail of what I'd like to express. I just take each idea I had stored in my mind during whatever disaster of epic proportion kept me away, and blog about them one by one I'm  until  I'm typed out. Or until there is nothing left but the carnage of unwritten word. It's quite miraculous actually, I've only bomb wrote once before and it was in a private journal not  in anywhere public so the world can read it. Regardless,the technique is more than a bit of wordy fun, it truly works. As of late, I've been using my phone to blog, for the simple fact that it is exceptionally handy and easy to use when you're on the go (which I normally am) but for some reason there is something very soothing about the click clack of a keyboard. There's something to be said for the strong-minded individual who takes the  deliberate time out to sit at his or her laptop and type so evenhandedly. Well anyway, I'm sure that' what ever happens from now will be a wonderful experience. We'll have to wait and see.

First Day Remix

Oh my goodness!! I feel so old today. My brother and sister Kev and Coco have their  first day back to school today.  But this year is more special than usual because Kev started his VERY FIRST year of high school and Coco started her Senior year. Now they both go to different schools (Kev to my old highschool and Coco to Asia's) but these moments for them are monumental whether they realize it or not. I don't know,  maybe it's just me but when I started high school I was excited and scared as hell. New people not knowing what was cool and what wasn't it was stressful business.(I was also lowkey annoyed because my older brother had graduated from that school just a couple months prior to me starting) So for a while there I was just Leon's little sister.  -_______- Butttt anywayyy if that was difficult for me back then I can only imagine the pressures children have to face in THIS day and age. Back then our biggest worry was making more than two friends in our advisory (DFL in my case.) Now it's how to avoid the people who smoke the most weed, so you don't feel like you have to just by association.  Or learning how to clown the worst dressed boy in the room in hopes that they wont notice your Jordan's are in last year's selfies. It's too much for me personally and I wouldn't even know where to begin. And it only gets worse the higher up in age you are. Seriously, and I'm not exaggerating here, by the time I was a senior my one and only concern was not completely flunking any classes. Ooh man, my Senioritis was sooo bad it was all I could do to even make it to school. Now most seniors are worried  about what outfit their NEWBORN BABIES are going to wear to their graduation.  As you can see I'm obviously out of my league here.  Good thing all my loved ones got a brain in their heads because times have definitely changed.