a mercurial mind digitized
Some stuff that has worked (at times) for me over the years when depression lulls hit: Throwing unnecessary things out Cleaning off one’s work desk or work area. Declutter your mind physically—try it, it helps, oddly enough Throwing out stacks of (un)read magazines and newspapers Donating books (gasp!) and clothes ya never wear (like, last time was… Read more of: Some Things to Help While Dealing with Depression
I need to address this notion that being pro #BlackLivesMatter means you’re denying the lives of other people and segments of life. Nah, bruh. Not how it works. Peep game. Off jump, White (from now on, yt) lives are the already checked box upon signing up for life’s EULA. Black (and Brown and Yellow and… Read more of: Civil, Human Rights ARE NOT a Zero-sum game
We have this neologism of folks Pharrell dubbed “New Blacks” tragically crafting themselves as uncanny likenesses of Narcissus. The pool of compliments and encouragement poured by Whites, the lavish reflections gazed upon will be a bowel of New Blacks’ drowning demise, set to a background cacophony of “Wake up!” reminiscent of the end of the… Read more of: “New Blacks” & Respectability Politics [short]
Even if you’ve only known me for ten minutes, let alone ten years, you will understand that i live the nomadic lifestyle–vagabond, wanderluster, constant-jaunter, etc. I love being on the move; i dislike staid or static existence. New experiences, new lands, new people are what get me going in the morning–even more so than coffee—and… Read more of: i embody the nomad life
I don’t mind labels. I actually like them. A label is just a sticker. It can be removed. It can be moved around. It can stay on indefinitely. Labels and categories are only measures of identification. They make things easier to sort through, to know what might occur. A label is not a scarlet letter… Read more of: You are not a label
I mentioned in a post a few weeks ago my intrinsic desire to question everything…to know…to understand. With every encounter…with every conversation…with every word, i attempt to fit each item, each grain of salt into my world, into my psyche, to see if is a perfect match, or with some slight or even drastic maneuvering,… Read more of: thoughts (on relationships) viewed as atoms
Post-Racial America? Ha! I can’t help but scoff at the notion of this term whenever it’s uttered. We live in a post-racial America in the same vein that god exists: it makes for a cool story, bro—something soothing yet entertaining enough to tell the kids while tucking them in; a story of hope, possible triumph,… Read more of: Post-Racial America? Ha!
I’ve been sitting on this piece for quite some time. It’s witnessed two Black History Months pass by, actually. After the resurgence of racial upheaval and tensions (e.g. Trayvon Martin), racist ideologies and commentary spewed forth, tipped over by yesterday’s Gawker post regarding the outrage of the Hunger Games’ casting of Black folks for—get this—Black… Read more of: disambiguation: black is a color; Black is culture, history, music
I love to travel. Being the ever curious one, a veritable sponge, i’ve had the bug since i was a child—always wanting to see the sites and distant lands i read about, whether fantasical or real, didn’t matter. As a kid i wasn’t presented with the opportunity to travel outside of the Tri-State often. Before… Read more of: Love to travel? Love me? Support Nomadness Travel Tribe Kickstarter
With the recent social media mosh pit over Chris Brown and Rihanna’s rekindling, at least for music’s sake, i’ve seen the word “responsibility” thrown around all willy-nilly. It has been said that she is not upholding her responsibility to her impressionable young fans. Ummm. Wait. What!? Since when did releasing music come with the caveat… Read more of: No, Rihanna is not responsible for your child
It’s funny the way life works: growing up i learned about marriage through broken relationships, innumerable constant failed attempts—one after another—with every pairing i witnessed my family’s and friends’ of the family, and not to downplay the backdrop of the vast populace around me, or on the tube or covering magazines or spread eagle on… Read more of: marriage, oh boy; or is it, oh girl? ::shrugs::
In case yet said along parchment rooftops cursive or ruled awnings bold: Women are God’s gifts laid upon Earth’s mantled soul. Born in whispers A muse is more than mere influences. Existing in a word Living off sentences Birthing paragraphs silent Raising chapters alone Destroyer of books Standing atop volumes Queen of sounds… Read more of: of muses, of lovers, friends and others
What people don’t know or if they already know, don’t seem to fully get: i don’t like phone calls. Not any. Well, okay, let me explain that a little bit: i don’t like unsolicited phone calls. I prefer phone calls treated as if they were emails: i want to know the subject beforehand. I want… Read more of: i don’t like phone calls
There is a train of thought that is constantly chugging along the great mental metal of minds too great to fail. That was the thought pattern behind the Titanic—right? Or, was that off since it wasn’t a train, but a large ship atop water, the icy depths of death soon awaiting its foolish passengers believing… Read more of: stream of consciousness #0009: music is god’s daddy & mommy
Remembering why i blog, or really revisiting it, i’m determined to actually put my foot forward and to blog more often. This really has more to do with looking around at my peers or even strangers i stumble past on the Interwebs than it does with fulfilling some personal mantra. I see ’em post all… Read more of: gotta gotta gotta write write write
Typical, a man is not a fan of Valentine’s Day. An often heard and witnessed harangue, the woe is me charade: a man who has to spend buttloads of cash and oodles of time with a significant other or sometimes-jump-off-turned-friend-with-benefits who may very well be wifey material but you haven’t given much thought, all for… Read more of: Valentine’s Day: no, i’m not a fan
Inspired by words from another who’ve i’ve never met physically—an online comraderie twittering—writing about a muse never encountered by either of us for she passed away years prior, this is a piece about the purpose of inspiration coming at us sideways in the dark holding a flashlight for the gloomy eyes to see hope. Hopeful… Read more of: stream of consciousness #0015: inspiration is random on-purpose
Last night i caught a showing of a play performed on campus: Ayn Rand’s The Night of January 16th. “Your life, your achievements, your happiness, your person are of paramount importance. Live up to your highest vision of yourself no matter what the circumstances you might encounter. An exalted view of self-esteem is a man’s most admirable quality.”… Read more of: Ayn Rand’s Night of January 16th
Several times over the past couple of years, i decided to migrate … well, more like copy … my physical books to the digital realm while sitting in the library. That is to say, i haven’t purchased or found a free way to have digital copies of the books—only a catalogue. Man, i should’ve just… Read more of: Built my Online Bookshelf Surrounded by Physical Books
For years my tears carried screams muffled by showered water, “I am not my father. I am not him.” I hated my given for years, not changing till i met poetry, spoken words from a friend familiar. Even still, i refuse to use my sur; i see little equity in it, this name more reminder… Read more of: stream of consciousness #0013: all i do
I want this to be neither confession nor indictment but more of a review, maybe a prospectus. So, 2011 was a tempest of a year for me. Fitting, I guess, that “tempest” has been used to describe me by a person whose life i may have inadvertently thrown for a loop; though it would be… Read more of: Neither confession nor indictment
After a recent introduction to a new clique (or maybe just a roughshod gathering of friends and friends of friends), i had a feeling, a slight tugging, that this was part of something bigger, that this Brooklyn night will end up years later across ruled parchment. Possibly the names will be changed, or, remaining intact,… Read more of: treating every encounter as if memoir material
Somewhere along my journeys i heard the spiritual theory that birthmarks signify how many lives one has lived—actual indicators of where one was killed previously. I would think, then, that if one was not murdered, but say had lung cancer or passed because of an heart attack, they would show up on the relative spot… Read more of: my future reflected in birthmarks
Even in my dreams—during the times of peace, of unconscious revery—i find myself berating my self, left with remnants once awake. The unconscious finds a way to highlight the conscious mistakes, missteps and mishaps it feels occur on a basis, if not daily, then still way too often. Waking up in a state of anger,… Read more of: Stream of Consciousness #0008: underachieving
For those like me who keep their computers at home and at work on all the time, here’s a simple way to put them to use while away: it’s called volunteer computing. Basically, your computer gives some of its resources to assist in various scientific or academic research projects. It’s important because there are >… Read more of: Donate Your Idle CPU Time