I stopped writing because there was simply too much to write. Two years ago after I came back from New York, I guess I felt like I had too much to say. That was my excuses to stop writing. There was just too much to say to catch up to all that has happened.
They say a book can change your life. Sunfood Diet Success System, Walden, Eating for Beauty, the Bible, As a Man Thinketh, and the Bible are books that have changed me. Somewhere along though, I stopped reading as well. Maybe I felt that there was too much to do besides read? I became more and more of a stimulation junkie over the past years. I guess books lacked the stimulation I wanted.
And so I sit here stimulated. I had an episode of rage a little while ago, but of course, the weed calmed me down. I was thinking about my life. Where it is, where it had once been, where it is going.
It seems to be going nowhere, really. I know it's not a great thing to tell the prospective employer so I make up this concept of what an apt pupil or eager student would say, and dammit I can play the part really well sometimes. The smart ones see through it and recognize the no good piece of shit I am. My bosses at work know I won't ever get anywhere, maybe that's why they allow me to make the mistakes I do because I don't really have much else going for myself.
There's no such thing as rock bottom. Things will continually get worse and worse as you allow them to. I mean, there's really no end to how bad things can get. The devil poisoned my soul and my sight. I see bad things, hear bad things, think bad things. My mom says I should spend 30 minutes a day feeding my soul.
Through studying philosophy and logic and critical analysis so much, I've learned to not accept anything. Of course, I took this to an extreme, and there is indeed nothing in this world I accept. In fact, I reject this world. I think of it unfair, wrong, and not worth living in unless you are one of the fortunate enough to be driven, motivated, and loved enough to want to move on blindly. People shun religion, but I admire it. Religion provides meaning, a philosophical blueprint, of how to build a stable life. It provides concepts meant to be understood as "beyond us" and therefore worth believing in to attain a better life. Creating a consciousness, and a law, that is understood to exist independently and guide us towards a "greater" good is only natural with human logic. Maybe some of us have grown to reject such concepts and others have fully integrated them into their lives. I don't have a core philosophy anymore. I'm just a madman lost in the world.
I feel like being motivated was just a phase for me that has passed, or maybe I'm a sobby little bitch. Or maybe the same thing that calms my rage is the same thing stopping me from getting up and changing my life: weed.
I don't believe in myself anymore. I really wanna die a lot of the time. I don't think I can change. I'll change for like a few months, then fall back asleep on my deathbed. Maybe this is just how I'm thinking because I'm in the dark and all I see is darkness and dark thoughts. I need to shed away these layers of dust blocking the lamp of my soul from shining.
I woke up the neighbors from yelling at myself loudly again. I'm sorry. It's suppose to be New Years Eve and were all supposed to be excited. About what? About realizing at the end of the year that I've gained no social accomplishments? That I'm still and ugly fuck loser that cant even secure a group of friends to party with at age 23? That the friends I once had could give a fuck less about my loser ass. I thought at least this year I would have someone to hold close when that clock strike but she fucking left me.
My anger book says that I have a lot of blind rage, and that I allow my anger to get so high that I lose all conscious thought and I act purely off of instinct and the "old brain". This is probable as no sane main would smash a bowl on his forehead, or break his own windshield, or crash his own car, or break his own foot, or his own blackberry. I can go on but why...
I'm tired of being angry all the time. I used to be happy, really happy. I had a drink with an old friend who is visiting LA and she knew me back when I was all about dancing, art, creativity, love, and being positive. Then, I don't know, the world brought me down and I, I stayed down there with everyone else.
Everyone isn't down there though. So many people found a way up, or out, or elsewhere. Where the fuck do I go from here? Can I still dance? I was contemplating over this "can I still dance" bullshit 2 years ago and ended just fucking my life up over contemplation. I'm bad at making decisions. I sometimes drive in circles for minutes to an hour because I can't decide what to do. I can count times I missed multiple opportunities after being caught in the ruts of my indecision and made none in the outcome.
Work provided stability. It nurtured the feeling of applying one's self daily and being able to reap the earnings with two monthly direct deposits. After searching for a position for almost a year, one would indefinitely feel committed to making the best impression to prevent such a search again. I wore my nicest black dress shoes, with newly purchased black slacks, and a fresh H&M collared v-neck to show I'm classy enough for rich people, yet hip enough for Santa Monica tourists. I swallowed customer's shit and chewed it with a smile. I was so good they had me work six days a week overtime my first few months.
It gave me a schedule and a reason to get out of bed. It gave me extra spending cash and at what better time than to have a dope ass girl to spend it with. I fit in, and with that fit I acquired a sense of belonging. I felt appreciated. Things were going in a good direction, and was eventually mentioned possible promotions. But of course I didn't get the promotion.....
Speaking of which, I gotta be at work at 10am, and I've stayed up til 6. Great Job!
December 31, 2011
December 08, 2011
The Relapse
I tried to change for the better. I went up into the woods and asked God to touch my soul. A girl who I had once let down brought me down with her. I lost it all. I fell for her but tripped into oblivion. When I finally hit the ground I exploded into light. I met Anna. We opened the door, we went into dreamland together.
But she woke up. I'm still in the dream. Or maybe I woke up and she's in the dream. Whatever the case, she's gone.
Maybe I'm handling it like a bitch. I handled it like a man for the first two weeks, then she called me over. I a wore a purple heart my heart on my sleeve unaware this would be a suicide mission. I died on the beaches of Normandy before I even got off the boat.
I thought I found true love this summer. I did, but she doesn't know it.
I became the boyfriend Margo wanted, when she was my age. Now I understand.
So many parts of me want to be violent. I'm tired of the violent urges without the violent results. The only thing I hurt is my property and my own self. What kind of faggot bitch shit is that? She didn't like it when I was violent, neither did I. The rush just gave me stimulation. I wish these violent urges would go away. I don't like taking it out on myself. I didn't deserve this scar on my forehead.
We all know I'm not going to do anything. So i drink and drink and sit and sit and play and play. I joke and joke to laugh and laugh hoping I might forget the pain. I smoke. I smoke. Smoke. Smoke. Smoke. But you smoked when things are good Andre, so what excuse do you have now?
There was a lady who called animal services on my dog Bigdoggy and made my mom pay a fee for reasons beyond knowing, but I attribute them towards personal grotesqueness. She built fences in between our houses and never asked for our permission to do so. It was an intrusive fence. Bricks and metal bars. The workers left all their residue on our side of the fence and never fixed it. I recall playing it was used to be a lawn, mixing cement and dirt that she never cleaned up. They always littered on our property because we didn't have the ability to keep it up. She left dirt on our side and pavement on hers. She eventually built metal bars in our backyard as well. The only reasons we received for her actions were invalid, made-up grudges and saw us as her enemy years later.
I went down to her house when I went to visit an old friend who lived on that same street the other week. I fulfilled some of my vengeful fantasies, but at minimal cost. Maybe I'm entertaining this thought too much.
Ironically, she attended the church I now attend.
The fault finder will always find faults, even in paradise.
Anna saw the best of me because I marketing myself to show my strengths. She applied for the position and so did I. Our relationship started like most of my jobs, first I am full of ambition and obedience, then I get used to my job and see what I can get away with, then I usually realize I wouldn't be going anywhere and eventually lose interest in the company. She kept her interest in the company, while I ended up being the slacker that showed up whenever he wanted.
Where did I go? I'm a ghost. I don't exist.
I dont dance anymore. That's the only thing that moved me forward. Fuck everything else, really.
I still want to kill myself, but knowing the pain my mom would feel knowing her only son was dead, keeps me alive.
I dont want to die, I just want to stop fucking up. I want to stop thinking bad things. I want to be happy and open and remain that way. I want to be driven, I wan't to believe in myself.
But I doubt, and therefore, I fail.
And then I get tired of being in the slow class, and try to break free from the bounds of my fatalist thought patterns.
And I actually do, for a good while.
Until I relapse and get stuck with myself, once again.
But she woke up. I'm still in the dream. Or maybe I woke up and she's in the dream. Whatever the case, she's gone.
Maybe I'm handling it like a bitch. I handled it like a man for the first two weeks, then she called me over. I a wore a purple heart my heart on my sleeve unaware this would be a suicide mission. I died on the beaches of Normandy before I even got off the boat.
I thought I found true love this summer. I did, but she doesn't know it.
I became the boyfriend Margo wanted, when she was my age. Now I understand.
So many parts of me want to be violent. I'm tired of the violent urges without the violent results. The only thing I hurt is my property and my own self. What kind of faggot bitch shit is that? She didn't like it when I was violent, neither did I. The rush just gave me stimulation. I wish these violent urges would go away. I don't like taking it out on myself. I didn't deserve this scar on my forehead.
We all know I'm not going to do anything. So i drink and drink and sit and sit and play and play. I joke and joke to laugh and laugh hoping I might forget the pain. I smoke. I smoke. Smoke. Smoke. Smoke. But you smoked when things are good Andre, so what excuse do you have now?
There was a lady who called animal services on my dog Bigdoggy and made my mom pay a fee for reasons beyond knowing, but I attribute them towards personal grotesqueness. She built fences in between our houses and never asked for our permission to do so. It was an intrusive fence. Bricks and metal bars. The workers left all their residue on our side of the fence and never fixed it. I recall playing it was used to be a lawn, mixing cement and dirt that she never cleaned up. They always littered on our property because we didn't have the ability to keep it up. She left dirt on our side and pavement on hers. She eventually built metal bars in our backyard as well. The only reasons we received for her actions were invalid, made-up grudges and saw us as her enemy years later.
I went down to her house when I went to visit an old friend who lived on that same street the other week. I fulfilled some of my vengeful fantasies, but at minimal cost. Maybe I'm entertaining this thought too much.
Ironically, she attended the church I now attend.
The fault finder will always find faults, even in paradise.
Anna saw the best of me because I marketing myself to show my strengths. She applied for the position and so did I. Our relationship started like most of my jobs, first I am full of ambition and obedience, then I get used to my job and see what I can get away with, then I usually realize I wouldn't be going anywhere and eventually lose interest in the company. She kept her interest in the company, while I ended up being the slacker that showed up whenever he wanted.
Where did I go? I'm a ghost. I don't exist.
I dont dance anymore. That's the only thing that moved me forward. Fuck everything else, really.
I still want to kill myself, but knowing the pain my mom would feel knowing her only son was dead, keeps me alive.
I dont want to die, I just want to stop fucking up. I want to stop thinking bad things. I want to be happy and open and remain that way. I want to be driven, I wan't to believe in myself.
But I doubt, and therefore, I fail.
And then I get tired of being in the slow class, and try to break free from the bounds of my fatalist thought patterns.
And I actually do, for a good while.
Until I relapse and get stuck with myself, once again.
November 28, 2011
January 19, 2011
And I'm Going Down
Sittin in the ER
foot hurt, still limpin
no goals to reach for
well at least I'm still livin
black eye, head swole
gotta say it feels different
black skies, heads roll
its just the ways my wheels pivot
(and im going down)
and there aint no better way to say
I wish that I never came
it could have been a better day
I crashed my fist into his face
and since the I've been crashing down
if Neo says there is no spoon
I really hope there is no ground
but death's the only thing im promised
im not being pessimistic
I'm just tryna be honest
and if I never come around
call the cops
he done lost it
someone needs to take him down
sleeping in life's waiting room
doctor please see your patient
found a secret place to hide
problem is I can't escape it
wanna make this heart vacant
it's already full of hatred
if there really is a chance
love will make a reservation
but why am I stressed?
can't get a job
but poverty is blessed
underdrawn, bad credit
life is a mess
car is a wreck
and my mom's still depressed
Woke up frustrated
gotta say I hate it
wash the dirt from my face
but the scar's still remainin
kinda like my life
every now and then i change it
but the problems grow back
still behind on payments
calloused heart is tough
willpower aint enough
ask how im doin
man it's just another bluff
stuffed like a glut
aint been around much
stayin low key
just chillin in the cut
tell my heart to shut up
always tryna sing
my minds still in winter
while it's already spring
it seems
I lost track tryna chase my dreams
switched my style more darker
just to give it some sting
I wanna burn
I want my turn
I want my chance to shine
but I cant get mine
when I'm still paying fines
I know im aware butI
cant escape the fact
that my pockets gettin skinny
while my stomachs gettin fat
High so often
I can even count the air miles
hairline receding
you would think it's my new hairstyle
So catch my drift
read my lips
I want that better life shit
Don't ride my dick
just roll that spliff
and I will just ignite it
Story of my life
the future will rewrite it
watch my recovery
the homies are invited
Sun tatted on my rib
they took away my kid
my dream was like my baby
lookin at an empty crib
It's all a mess
I'm all depressed
from all this stress
my confidence
has reached a low
the reefer blows
and I'm just puffin
hope for something
gave it up
a week ago
it's funny how a week could go
by so fast
my weakness grows
into my heart
into my mind
it's just the way diseases go
and now I try to reach the glow
needed to achieve a goal
I even gave God a wish
I wonder what he see's below
A girl said "he heard you"
my mom said "he served you"
but what do you do
when your own soul deserts you?
and you're Mom's only boy
standing tryna save the world
and the anger just destroys
but you're tryna save the pearls
treasuring the memories
drift into infinite
recognize the enemy
visualize the imagery
cause at the bottom of the sea
there lies the real me
their lies are filthy
you can see the watermarks
that's just the real me
sliding through the water parks
child is within me
tryna beat the harder parts
and all the while ya'll feel me
forreal b,
c
d
e
and F me
you left me
so I switched to the other side
like a lefty
the Spirit had me set free
but cold world done wet me
hold on, you'll get me
when I'm droppin checks
poppin X
dressed fresh clean
hope thou will bless me
dope styles investing
the wack stay behind
but the nice see the best things
step up, impress me
ugly's a pet peeve
that I cant fix
so I switch a different approach
I'm hitting a roach
cliffside poached
fly but still behind
like I'm sitting in coach.
boast cause im a player
curse like a sailor
roast my closest pals
cut em up like tailors
and let them see my dark side
bitch I'm darth vader
force myself upon the world
get banned for bad behavior
today I got fired
I guess it's tough luck
I guess the world's tired
of me being a fuck up
so I'll just say fuck it
the destiny best for me
is drunk driving a bucket
unless my ex text dtf
I guess at best
that means she left
and now I'm next
but this bitch is low grade
easy F
blowin me off
like an easy breath
God was waiting in his car but I think he left.
foot hurt, still limpin
no goals to reach for
well at least I'm still livin
black eye, head swole
gotta say it feels different
black skies, heads roll
its just the ways my wheels pivot
(and im going down)
and there aint no better way to say
I wish that I never came
it could have been a better day
I crashed my fist into his face
and since the I've been crashing down
if Neo says there is no spoon
I really hope there is no ground
but death's the only thing im promised
im not being pessimistic
I'm just tryna be honest
and if I never come around
call the cops
he done lost it
someone needs to take him down
sleeping in life's waiting room
doctor please see your patient
found a secret place to hide
problem is I can't escape it
wanna make this heart vacant
it's already full of hatred
if there really is a chance
love will make a reservation
but why am I stressed?
can't get a job
but poverty is blessed
underdrawn, bad credit
life is a mess
car is a wreck
and my mom's still depressed
Woke up frustrated
gotta say I hate it
wash the dirt from my face
but the scar's still remainin
kinda like my life
every now and then i change it
but the problems grow back
still behind on payments
calloused heart is tough
willpower aint enough
ask how im doin
man it's just another bluff
stuffed like a glut
aint been around much
stayin low key
just chillin in the cut
tell my heart to shut up
always tryna sing
my minds still in winter
while it's already spring
it seems
I lost track tryna chase my dreams
switched my style more darker
just to give it some sting
I wanna burn
I want my turn
I want my chance to shine
but I cant get mine
when I'm still paying fines
I know im aware butI
cant escape the fact
that my pockets gettin skinny
while my stomachs gettin fat
High so often
I can even count the air miles
hairline receding
you would think it's my new hairstyle
So catch my drift
read my lips
I want that better life shit
Don't ride my dick
just roll that spliff
and I will just ignite it
Story of my life
the future will rewrite it
watch my recovery
the homies are invited
Sun tatted on my rib
they took away my kid
my dream was like my baby
lookin at an empty crib
It's all a mess
I'm all depressed
from all this stress
my confidence
has reached a low
the reefer blows
and I'm just puffin
hope for something
gave it up
a week ago
it's funny how a week could go
by so fast
my weakness grows
into my heart
into my mind
it's just the way diseases go
and now I try to reach the glow
needed to achieve a goal
I even gave God a wish
I wonder what he see's below
A girl said "he heard you"
my mom said "he served you"
but what do you do
when your own soul deserts you?
and you're Mom's only boy
standing tryna save the world
and the anger just destroys
but you're tryna save the pearls
treasuring the memories
drift into infinite
recognize the enemy
visualize the imagery
cause at the bottom of the sea
there lies the real me
their lies are filthy
you can see the watermarks
that's just the real me
sliding through the water parks
child is within me
tryna beat the harder parts
and all the while ya'll feel me
forreal b,
c
d
e
and F me
you left me
so I switched to the other side
like a lefty
the Spirit had me set free
but cold world done wet me
hold on, you'll get me
when I'm droppin checks
poppin X
dressed fresh clean
hope thou will bless me
dope styles investing
the wack stay behind
but the nice see the best things
step up, impress me
ugly's a pet peeve
that I cant fix
so I switch a different approach
I'm hitting a roach
cliffside poached
fly but still behind
like I'm sitting in coach.
boast cause im a player
curse like a sailor
roast my closest pals
cut em up like tailors
and let them see my dark side
bitch I'm darth vader
force myself upon the world
get banned for bad behavior
today I got fired
I guess it's tough luck
I guess the world's tired
of me being a fuck up
so I'll just say fuck it
the destiny best for me
is drunk driving a bucket
unless my ex text dtf
I guess at best
that means she left
and now I'm next
but this bitch is low grade
easy F
blowin me off
like an easy breath
God was waiting in his car but I think he left.
Equality of Hope
It’s hard to argue whether or not we all as individuals have the same potential towards achieving success. It’s even harder to say whether or not any of us will gain any sort of social mobility in our lifetimes. And it’s impossible to know whether we’ll stay at that higher status, or eventually come back down to where we started, or even in a worse condition.
But what is success? It differs for everyone. But unarguably, true American democratic individualists would like believe that everyone can achieve whatever they desire within a society, especially if it is able to be provided by that society. But what if that society doesn’t permit such success? Or perhaps it does, but it depends on your race, class, and gender. Logically you can’t have fairness and equality if only the certain select are provided with the opportunity to succeed.
America can’t promise that everyone will get to the same place. We can’t expect everyone to get to the top of the mountain. We can’t guarantee that there won’t be struggle, death, and hardship when it comes to personal achievement and survival as a human being. We can’t even admit whether anyone will ever be able to live a qualitative lifestyle. But we should be able to promise everyone that such achievement is possible. The problem inherit in this promise, is that such a promise can’t be kept as long as inequalities exist, more specifically, opportunistic inequality.
An equality of opportunity is something that should be importantly implemented in our society, and prioritized in an effort to have a stable society, and therefore a stable civilization, and eventually a more stable nation as a whole. An order theorist would argue that the system we already have in America is fine, and that it is essentially functional for everyone. Functional? Yes. For everyone? No.
Our country is a huge pyramid scheme built on the backs of slaves and the genocide of a native poulation. MTA buses and subway lines are the modern day multicultural slave ships to low paying jobs that cloud dreams of social mobility. Crime-ridden neighborhoods and deteriorating infrastructure lowers the morale of communities already caught in a circling downward spiral of poverty. Lack of employment forces people into desperate situations where the range of things they are willing to do just to have some food on the table, legally or illegally, have broadened. An educational drought has only led to an institutional funneling of our youth into the prison-industrial complex. The racial profiling, police brutality, and domestic violence troubling these people make home an unsafe place to be, knowing that state-funded terrorists dressed in white hoods never have been, and never will be persecuted for their hate crimes. And all the while, a president who gave us all hope, fails to respond to the needs of his own people, but rather to those of the rich, white capitalist class that controls the money, and therefore the decisions of our politicians.
“Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free”, said Andy Duphraine, a character who played a wrongfully convicted prisoner in the popular 1994 film Shawshank Redemption. If we were to ever have a good start going toward having an equality of opportunity and our runner is on the track ready to pass the baton, the runner is going to need something to keep him going when his legs are ready to give out. He’s going to need some heart, some extra power, some nourishment, some water, but most of all, some hope. Hope is what our communities need right now, and although some would argue implementing hope is not the government’s job, it should surely be Uncle Sam’s side activity when he gets home from work.
Having experienced so much racism and classism in our society, how would anyone within the oppressed class expect to gain any success in our nation, especially in a culturally pluralistic approach? “The system’s broken, the school’s closed, the prison’s open” said rapper Kanye West in his song ironically titled “POWER”. There are definitely people who are in power in this nation, or who desire such power, and will stop at nothing to defend the current matrix of domination that we live in. Until this system is reconstructed, our society's minds will continue to enroll into a system of circular thinking that keeps the poor in poverty and the rich in power. This is all part of the internal colonialism practiced by the capitalists of this nation, except it doesn’t only exist in our day-to-day experiences, it also exists in peoples’ minds, holding them prisoner to their own ignorance, fear, and lack of hope.
My proposal is not only to prioritize a true equality of opportunity in our nation, but also an equality of hope. The fear instilled in our society, the people’s dependence on a broken system, and the socialization that white, male, old capitalists have injected in our peoples mind will keep them imprisoned unless until the light of truth emerges into a forward way of thinking.
If we boost the morale of the people of this country, if people begin to believe that they can actually make a difference in this country, if people become aware of the mindsets that hold them prisoner, and the overseers that watching over us in our fields, then we could possibly act upon that belief, and fix our society. When peoples’ hopes are up, when the clouds of depression blow away, when the system no longer brutalizes and punishes the poor, when the rich can give up everything they have and enter the kingdom of heaven on earth, when the concepts of greed and personal gain become mere kid’s stories instead of a lifestyle to kill for, then possibly we could all live happier and healthier lives.
Martin Luther King’s dream may have been conceived, but it has yet to be manifested. The boundaries of class division have yet to be broken. The ancient history of gender inequalities have yet to be taken more seriously. Expired concepts of “age of readiness” still reign over our population, and America has yet to be color-blind, but has rather attempted to conceal its racism by using green as the most dominant color in our pallet that is our nation's diversity.
But what is success? It differs for everyone. But unarguably, true American democratic individualists would like believe that everyone can achieve whatever they desire within a society, especially if it is able to be provided by that society. But what if that society doesn’t permit such success? Or perhaps it does, but it depends on your race, class, and gender. Logically you can’t have fairness and equality if only the certain select are provided with the opportunity to succeed.
America can’t promise that everyone will get to the same place. We can’t expect everyone to get to the top of the mountain. We can’t guarantee that there won’t be struggle, death, and hardship when it comes to personal achievement and survival as a human being. We can’t even admit whether anyone will ever be able to live a qualitative lifestyle. But we should be able to promise everyone that such achievement is possible. The problem inherit in this promise, is that such a promise can’t be kept as long as inequalities exist, more specifically, opportunistic inequality.
An equality of opportunity is something that should be importantly implemented in our society, and prioritized in an effort to have a stable society, and therefore a stable civilization, and eventually a more stable nation as a whole. An order theorist would argue that the system we already have in America is fine, and that it is essentially functional for everyone. Functional? Yes. For everyone? No.
Our country is a huge pyramid scheme built on the backs of slaves and the genocide of a native poulation. MTA buses and subway lines are the modern day multicultural slave ships to low paying jobs that cloud dreams of social mobility. Crime-ridden neighborhoods and deteriorating infrastructure lowers the morale of communities already caught in a circling downward spiral of poverty. Lack of employment forces people into desperate situations where the range of things they are willing to do just to have some food on the table, legally or illegally, have broadened. An educational drought has only led to an institutional funneling of our youth into the prison-industrial complex. The racial profiling, police brutality, and domestic violence troubling these people make home an unsafe place to be, knowing that state-funded terrorists dressed in white hoods never have been, and never will be persecuted for their hate crimes. And all the while, a president who gave us all hope, fails to respond to the needs of his own people, but rather to those of the rich, white capitalist class that controls the money, and therefore the decisions of our politicians.
“Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free”, said Andy Duphraine, a character who played a wrongfully convicted prisoner in the popular 1994 film Shawshank Redemption. If we were to ever have a good start going toward having an equality of opportunity and our runner is on the track ready to pass the baton, the runner is going to need something to keep him going when his legs are ready to give out. He’s going to need some heart, some extra power, some nourishment, some water, but most of all, some hope. Hope is what our communities need right now, and although some would argue implementing hope is not the government’s job, it should surely be Uncle Sam’s side activity when he gets home from work.
Having experienced so much racism and classism in our society, how would anyone within the oppressed class expect to gain any success in our nation, especially in a culturally pluralistic approach? “The system’s broken, the school’s closed, the prison’s open” said rapper Kanye West in his song ironically titled “POWER”. There are definitely people who are in power in this nation, or who desire such power, and will stop at nothing to defend the current matrix of domination that we live in. Until this system is reconstructed, our society's minds will continue to enroll into a system of circular thinking that keeps the poor in poverty and the rich in power. This is all part of the internal colonialism practiced by the capitalists of this nation, except it doesn’t only exist in our day-to-day experiences, it also exists in peoples’ minds, holding them prisoner to their own ignorance, fear, and lack of hope.
My proposal is not only to prioritize a true equality of opportunity in our nation, but also an equality of hope. The fear instilled in our society, the people’s dependence on a broken system, and the socialization that white, male, old capitalists have injected in our peoples mind will keep them imprisoned unless until the light of truth emerges into a forward way of thinking.
If we boost the morale of the people of this country, if people begin to believe that they can actually make a difference in this country, if people become aware of the mindsets that hold them prisoner, and the overseers that watching over us in our fields, then we could possibly act upon that belief, and fix our society. When peoples’ hopes are up, when the clouds of depression blow away, when the system no longer brutalizes and punishes the poor, when the rich can give up everything they have and enter the kingdom of heaven on earth, when the concepts of greed and personal gain become mere kid’s stories instead of a lifestyle to kill for, then possibly we could all live happier and healthier lives.
Martin Luther King’s dream may have been conceived, but it has yet to be manifested. The boundaries of class division have yet to be broken. The ancient history of gender inequalities have yet to be taken more seriously. Expired concepts of “age of readiness” still reign over our population, and America has yet to be color-blind, but has rather attempted to conceal its racism by using green as the most dominant color in our pallet that is our nation's diversity.
Street Lights
Play this while you read it.
It hits me every time. It never gets old. It brings back a feeling that no other song can.
For years I was pursuing my dreams to be a dancer. Many, many hard hours of blood, sweat, and tears. Dedication, injury, and overall putting everything I had into it. In 2009 I was finally moving forward. I got accepted into a world famous school for dance in New York City, and was ready to propel myself towards the castles I built in the sky.
Things didn't unfold the way I wanted to though.
The situations that befell me, along with my own insanity, left me in a very doubtful and depressed state. Second guessing oneself became my narrative.
I remember the many times I was by myself in the streets at night walking through Manhattan, numb to all of the lights in times square passing by. So many times on those walks I'd wish I met someone to tell me something I needed to hear, or make some friends I hit it off with, or have some glorious moment of serendipity and happiness that would pull me out of the ruts of self-doubt.
But it never happened.
My living situation wasn't too good, so I'd almost always avoid going home until about 3 am every night. I was always out in the streets looking for a thrill, but never found one that fed my soul.
New York had chewed me up and spit me out. I didn't swim, I sank.
Upon returning to L.A. I was unable to enroll back into college or get a job, and not making the auditions I hoped to get into, there wasn't really much going for me.
Driving up highland on the way to a rehearsal in Hollywood, I heard "Street Lights" for the first time.
The paint on the pavement began to illuminate itself and directed me in a direction uncommon to most Los Angeles commuters. The sun was setting and the reflections all around me began to shine ever more brightly. I rolled open the sunroof and let the Pacific Breeze begin to take me.
The beat dropped as traffic lights started to become replace by trees. Instead of office buildings, I saw cliffs and moss-covered boulders with melted snow pouring down its edges, flooding the lawns of rich Hollywood abodes. As the streams flowed down dirty gutters, cars began to hydroplane and float into the the tangerine sky.
Every time I turned my head, man made structures were being rented out by nature's beauty. Fenced-in parks became entries into a forest's wilderness. Freeway overpasses were merely fallen Redwood trees. Pedestrian homosapiens reverted back to deer and squirrels.
The sunroof expanded until there was no roof at all. Smoothly, I transitioned to the back of a taxi that I knew was taking me to my destination. The driver knew of all the work I put into reaching my dreams, and the unfair experiences I've had on the way. Every 808 drum beat was synchronized with my heart's. Every snare added detail to the spirit's mountain forest wilderness. An open wide countryside was illustrated by the melody Kanye was so subtly singing along to.
Reaching for my wallet to check how much money I had, I realized there were no numbers or prices on the driver's dashboard. Just a video playing of those lonely walks through New York streets, those lonely drives along Los Angeles highways, the countless dance classes and attempts to make such movements second nature to me, the muscle relaxers and painkillers on late nights behind dance studios, the many shots straight from the bottle alone in my room.
That was my fare.
The second verse dropped in heavily just in time for the vehicle to be completely free from the city's desperate enterprises--fully immersed into the earth's untouched beauty. We passed by a sea of memories as the blue sat so pretty west of the highway. Tunnels extended under granite cliffsides, exposing the lying and cheating I've done to get ahead in my career.
Angel's voices from the song replaced the noise of the car's engine. Each tree that cascaded over my head reminded me of every seed I planted, every thought that became something real.
Peace became me.
Leaves started to fall. At first there were only a few of them, but over time they almost seemed to rain down on the road. The dings of the music melody started to knock down the trees at random. All of the vegetation was rotting away. The bridges we passed had begun to crumble at the foundations.
Each bassline shook the mountains, creating a rockfall in which one had landed in front of the car. Dodging it, the taxi drifted, and a blazing fire began to kindle the forest behind us. As the car spun out of control, smoke rose into the sky, filling it with darkness.
We gained control of the car but the clouds of smoke from the burning trees made it impossible for us to see anything. It entered my lungs. I leaned back and coughed out millions of stars into the sky. It was night time now.
The painting on the street pavement was glowing. Street lights appeared. At first maybe one of two, then dozens, then hundreds. When the smoke had disintegrated, shining office buildings rose over the road; it widened for cars to drift in from above me and refill street with commuters. Our cab's roof began to close back up and cover a sky that once seemed so open.
Deers and squirrels rapidly evolved to become human pedestrians. Man-made structures were rebuilt over the boulders and hills that once rolled through the landscape
The drums faded away and it was just the melody playing. I was in the driver's seat now. Going up Highland on the way to my rehearsal in Hollywood. A new hope had filled my heart as the city's lights glowed ever more brightly through the cracked windshield.
I looked at my radio and saw Kanye West's album playing: Street Lights from 808s & Heartbreaks.
Thank you Kanye.
It hits me every time. It never gets old. It brings back a feeling that no other song can.
For years I was pursuing my dreams to be a dancer. Many, many hard hours of blood, sweat, and tears. Dedication, injury, and overall putting everything I had into it. In 2009 I was finally moving forward. I got accepted into a world famous school for dance in New York City, and was ready to propel myself towards the castles I built in the sky.
Things didn't unfold the way I wanted to though.
The situations that befell me, along with my own insanity, left me in a very doubtful and depressed state. Second guessing oneself became my narrative.
I remember the many times I was by myself in the streets at night walking through Manhattan, numb to all of the lights in times square passing by. So many times on those walks I'd wish I met someone to tell me something I needed to hear, or make some friends I hit it off with, or have some glorious moment of serendipity and happiness that would pull me out of the ruts of self-doubt.
But it never happened.
My living situation wasn't too good, so I'd almost always avoid going home until about 3 am every night. I was always out in the streets looking for a thrill, but never found one that fed my soul.
New York had chewed me up and spit me out. I didn't swim, I sank.
Upon returning to L.A. I was unable to enroll back into college or get a job, and not making the auditions I hoped to get into, there wasn't really much going for me.
Driving up highland on the way to a rehearsal in Hollywood, I heard "Street Lights" for the first time.
The paint on the pavement began to illuminate itself and directed me in a direction uncommon to most Los Angeles commuters. The sun was setting and the reflections all around me began to shine ever more brightly. I rolled open the sunroof and let the Pacific Breeze begin to take me.
The beat dropped as traffic lights started to become replace by trees. Instead of office buildings, I saw cliffs and moss-covered boulders with melted snow pouring down its edges, flooding the lawns of rich Hollywood abodes. As the streams flowed down dirty gutters, cars began to hydroplane and float into the the tangerine sky.
Every time I turned my head, man made structures were being rented out by nature's beauty. Fenced-in parks became entries into a forest's wilderness. Freeway overpasses were merely fallen Redwood trees. Pedestrian homosapiens reverted back to deer and squirrels.
The sunroof expanded until there was no roof at all. Smoothly, I transitioned to the back of a taxi that I knew was taking me to my destination. The driver knew of all the work I put into reaching my dreams, and the unfair experiences I've had on the way. Every 808 drum beat was synchronized with my heart's. Every snare added detail to the spirit's mountain forest wilderness. An open wide countryside was illustrated by the melody Kanye was so subtly singing along to.
Reaching for my wallet to check how much money I had, I realized there were no numbers or prices on the driver's dashboard. Just a video playing of those lonely walks through New York streets, those lonely drives along Los Angeles highways, the countless dance classes and attempts to make such movements second nature to me, the muscle relaxers and painkillers on late nights behind dance studios, the many shots straight from the bottle alone in my room.
That was my fare.
The second verse dropped in heavily just in time for the vehicle to be completely free from the city's desperate enterprises--fully immersed into the earth's untouched beauty. We passed by a sea of memories as the blue sat so pretty west of the highway. Tunnels extended under granite cliffsides, exposing the lying and cheating I've done to get ahead in my career.
Angel's voices from the song replaced the noise of the car's engine. Each tree that cascaded over my head reminded me of every seed I planted, every thought that became something real.
Peace became me.
Leaves started to fall. At first there were only a few of them, but over time they almost seemed to rain down on the road. The dings of the music melody started to knock down the trees at random. All of the vegetation was rotting away. The bridges we passed had begun to crumble at the foundations.
Each bassline shook the mountains, creating a rockfall in which one had landed in front of the car. Dodging it, the taxi drifted, and a blazing fire began to kindle the forest behind us. As the car spun out of control, smoke rose into the sky, filling it with darkness.
We gained control of the car but the clouds of smoke from the burning trees made it impossible for us to see anything. It entered my lungs. I leaned back and coughed out millions of stars into the sky. It was night time now.
The painting on the street pavement was glowing. Street lights appeared. At first maybe one of two, then dozens, then hundreds. When the smoke had disintegrated, shining office buildings rose over the road; it widened for cars to drift in from above me and refill street with commuters. Our cab's roof began to close back up and cover a sky that once seemed so open.
Deers and squirrels rapidly evolved to become human pedestrians. Man-made structures were rebuilt over the boulders and hills that once rolled through the landscape
The drums faded away and it was just the melody playing. I was in the driver's seat now. Going up Highland on the way to my rehearsal in Hollywood. A new hope had filled my heart as the city's lights glowed ever more brightly through the cracked windshield.
I looked at my radio and saw Kanye West's album playing: Street Lights from 808s & Heartbreaks.
Thank you Kanye.
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