When nothing else makes sense. When you try and try to think of ways to get through yet another week, weekend or day. When you just want to say ‘Fuck everything!’ Music comes along and makes it all go away. It’s like a soothing balm. No matter what type of music you listen to or how varied your preference is.

I’ve been on a trap music tip for awhile now. This mix is a perfect playlist for my weekend.


Racism on the Playground


“Martin Luther King Jr. Day, when America takes a brief moment to pretend it truly cares about integration, nonviolence and racial harmony.” – Huey (The Boondocks)

Mi Vida Loca

Hope everybody had a great Easter, enjoyed family time, the great weather and the abundance of chocolate (I’m stocking up on all that Easter chocolate going on sale). I had time with my family, enjoyed some good weather but also experienced what I think has been one of the most difficult parenting broken heel moments I’ve encountered yet. It’s very unfortunate that it’s the negative experiences the ones we learn most from.

On the Saturday we had AMAZING weather so I decided to go visit a girlfriend of mine with my kids, my sister and my mom. We ended up meeting her at a park that’s near her home so that the kids could enjoy some time outdoors, all in all it was an alright afternoon. All until I noticed my oldest daughter (7 years old) being cornered on a park bench by one of the other mothers that was on the playground with…

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“She wondered whether all marriages started out this way. Whether this initial stress and adjustment, push and pull and tremors and shakes were common to all relationships. Maybe the fact that they had started off as a long-distance couple had shielded them from the pressures that normal couples in the same city went through. She wondered why all those relatives who had sat on her head asking her to get married had never mentioned this particular phase.”
Shweta Ganesh Kumar, A Newlywed’s Adventures in Married Land

QOTD – The Alchemist

When someone sees the same people every day, they wind up becoming a part of that person’s life. And then they want the person to change. If someone isn’t what others want them to be, the others become angry. Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lies, but none about his or her own.

Poetry: How Does It Feel Now – Akua Naru

Love, love mmm…
I told y’all
We would be the band to play it.

My ghetto butterfly flew away from me.
I wait patiently, by windows and doorsteps.
Play, make believe, as my tears, poor chest,
won’t succeed to breathe, if not to hear of you.

Surely there has never been a shade so blue.
A stank attitude, so not mad at you.
Not a magnitude to encompass the latitude
of my love for you.
No space and time compatible.

What do I have to do? What do I have to do?
Uh..my friends say I got it bad for you.
I do. But there’s nothing in this world I’d rather do,
but you.

I want to make love to your existence,
drenched in colors of your energy,
then masturbate to the memories.
I wanna lose myself inside yourself…
Until you find me. Confine me,
to the freedom of your prison.
Exist in the same space, same time.
Combine until your thoughts slow grind with mine.[3x]

My, I wanna drink the sweat of your intellect,
reflect, and watch your light passion walk my neck.
Caress the sights of your presence with no question,
undress to the nakedness of love, pure love.
I want to make love to my soulmate… my soulmate…
make love to my soulmate…my soulmate…
make love to my soulmate
, uh shit…
I wonder, how does it feel to make love to your soulmate.
Kind of like writing poetry till climax,
till the point and place where space and time match.
Can we cross the line, perhaps tell me would you like that.
Now would you like that, tell me would you like that,
would you like that, tell me would you like that,
would you like that, tell me?

I’m gonna ask you again now, tell me..
Would you like that, tell me would you like that,
now would you like that, tell me would you like that,
would you like that, tell me..

I wanna love you more than madly.
Wrap these legs around your words,
until your speech is straddled deep, gladly.
Swim the currents of your vibrations,
be separate in one
with the same meditation..
Uh the same meditation..

Uh you know what..
This, right here is poetry..

Enjoy.. Ualy, play that saxophone right now!

[Sax solo]

If love..
If love had a sound
this would be that sound.
And we,
well we,
We would be the band to play it.

Fake It ‘Til You Make It

Fake It ‘Til You Make It

Every time I admit it out loud or to someone else it feels like a sting of a whip. Acknowledging that my self-esteem is at an all time low. That I don’t like myself; to the point that I can’t see any good at all in myself or even any reason for existing other then taking care of the girls. I can barely look at my own reflection in the mirror because I don’t like who looks back at me.

I’m so tired of hearing the typical rhetoric of “So do something about it” or “You choose to feel this way” or having someone point out everything I’m not doing or doing wrong. To someone that already thinks so poorly of themselves it’s just a confirmation that they are in fact so flawed that other people that are incredibly flawed themselves can have the conviction to turn around and list bad things about you. This is the wrong way of thinking and looking at things, I know this…but I can’t see it any other way.

We’re taught that women with no confidence is so unattractive. That depression is just an excuse people use to justify their actions. So what happens? You fake it ’til you make it. You spend so much time pretending to be OK that you can barely focus on things and the people around you. It can seem very selfish of you to be so focused on yourself; your loved ones will get frustrated and feel so disconnected and like you don’t give a shit about them. When in reality that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality you’re trying to be as much of a functioning person as you can at the moment so you can get through THAT day.

You learn to smile on cue; that smile rarely touches the eyes though. You learn to say what you think others want to hear. Especially when you have tried to be open and vent about what’s really on your mind, only to be told that you’re so negative all the time. Or you’re told you’re lazy or a pessimist; you’re called miserable and angry. You’re told you don’t give a shit about anyone and never contribute or give anything back to others. So you basically learn how to shut up and eat it. You bite your tongue until it bleeds. You cry at night while others sleep. You cry in bathrooms when you’re alone. You find it hard to see colour in your world. But that’s your world, that’s your point of view.

Not everyone will get it or empathize or be supportive or able to say or do the things that will help you. You need to find your own coping mechanisms. So what’s my way? I’ll fake it ’til I make it…this can’t be life. There has to be more for me than this.