I'm Tired

I've been sitting back, weighing all my choices.
Trying hard not to listen to my head full of voices.
Wondering why the hell folks do what they do
Blaming everyone else, when the problem is you.

So, I'm tired...

I'm tired of people being so fucking irresponsible
I'm tired of people thinking everything is impossible.
I'm tired of people that think their shit don't stink.
Hell, I'm tired of people that just don't think.

I'm tired of niggas standing on corners giving cat calls.
I'm tired of niggas holding their dicks and scratching their balls.
I'm tired of bitches injecting plastic in their ass
You can insert whatever you want, you still have no class.

I'm tired of you walking around thinking you're better than me.
Just because you sat in a college and got your degree.
Let me fill you in on something, and I'm sure you won't agree
But there isn't a piece of paper been made that could ever define me.

I'm tired of the words "I Love You" without action behind them
I'm especially tired of the way you define them.
It's clearer to me than a window cleaned with Windex
Nigga, you don't love me, you just love my sex.

As I sit here and try to find the words I'm aiming for
All of a sudden, it hit me...what am I complaining for?
Your truth comes from complacency, lack of focus and stupidity
My truth comes from knowledge, real love and lucidity.

So go right ahead and continue to be blinded
For the truth is so far gone from you, you'll never find it.
So I'll just sit back here with my thoughts and wait
Until you come to your senses or destiny seals your fate.

What Black History Month Means To Me

Another February has rolled upon us, which means that Black History Month has arrived. Now, while I don't begrudge or belittle anyone that happens to celebrate this occasion, I am not one of those that does. Before you knock me for it, please allow me to explain my reasons.

First, there are far too many contributions by black people to fit into the shortest month of the year. From Benjamin Banneker to Madame CJ Walker and all those in between, 28 (or sometimes 29) days is far too short of a time period to really grasp and understand what those great people created. It took them far longer than a month to reach and realize their greatness...why should we be any different?

Second, when I attended public schools, learning about Black History Month was more of a side note than actual curriculum. I remember learning about the Pilgrims on January 31, learning about Martin Luther King, Jr. on February 1-28, and going back to the Pilgrims on March 1. Of course, I am using those topics as an example, but the main idea holds true.

Third (and the most personal reason), I didn't start being black in February. My blackness began when I was created and it still lives on in me regardless of the calendar. Am I supposed to feel prouder in February than I am in August? Am I supposed to see something different when I look in the mirror in February? Am I supposed to feel better about myself and who I am and what I look like because of this month? I was created in God's image and when I look in the mirror and I see my brown eyes, my full hips and my medium dark skin, that doesn't go away because a new day has come. 

So while I will happily join you in singing "Lift Every Voice and Sing", I'll ask you to keep singing it the other 11 months of the year. While I will happily learn and study more about Black History and listen to stories of struggle, heartache, pain and prosperity, I'll listen and learn at any given time that the opportunity presents itself and I ask that you, no matter your race, will do the same.

The End Has Come

Well, we made it. The last day of October is here which means the end of the blog challenge. I've enjoyed writing things that have been on my mind, even though the task wasn't easy. I'm happy to also report that I didn't call anyone out on any of my blogs directly, even though 1) I did speak about a few people that wouldn't recognize that they were being talked about even if their names were lighted up like a Broadway sign and 2) I really wanted to and could have.

All-in-all, this experience has been a good one. I got a few things off my chest, I got a few international readers (shout out to my Russian and Canadian readers), and most importantly, I completed what I started. I know my blogs aren't the news-filled, fact-finding blogs that some do, nor are they the gossiping, tell-all types but instead, they are just random thoughts that run through my mind. It's very true what they say...everyone has a story...and I've told mine in the way that I saw fit.

I'm not saying that I won't blog again, but unless something major comes to mind, I'll be hanging up my keyboard for awhile. So I thank you for coming along on my journey with me and I pray that peace and happiness are brought upon you and yours.

Maestro...cue my music...

Music Makes Me Lose Control

I grew up in a household where music was always being played. There was at least one radio in every bedroom (I got my first tv and stereo system for my room when I was three), and my father had 3 stereo or component sets, as they were called back in the day. He had one that played records and 8 tracks, one that just played records and one that just played 8 tracks.

I grew up listening to the music that my father played and he played them all. Everything from Dinah Washington to Aretha Franklin. From Brook Benson to Blood, Sweat and Tears. My father's taste ran the gamut. And it got me to thinking, whatever happened to GOOD music?

Music nowadays is nothing but words said or sung over a beat. There is absolutely no feeling to the music that's being played now. You have people that are selling millions of units, selling out concert venues and becoming millionaires, not because they necessarily sound good, but because they look good. And in some cases (*cough* T-Pain), neither is happening.

Speaking of T-Pain, what is really up with auto tune? I mean, Roger Troutman was a genius for using it because no one ever heard it before. But now, everyone that has access to recording equipment uses it, even if they have a nice voice. Please, for the sake of all mankind, let that shit go. If you have to use it, maybe you should be a behind the scenes person anyway because it clearly means that you are not sure of your talents.

In closing, I will say that I long for music with meaning. Love songs that really spoke about love. Party songs that made you want to get up and dance. Songs that, when you heard them, you'd say to yourself, "I know what you mean ________ (fill in blank with your favorite artist)" Until then, my radio will stay off and my Music Choice channel will stay on Classic Soul that play hits such as this:

Blog Blues

I must admit that I am in no mood to blog this evening.  I've just come home from my employer's annual awards banquet and I am more tired than a hooker doing a double shift at a Shriner's convention.  But I will also admit that I do feel guilty when I don't give my all to this challenge.  I made a commitment to do this and even though there's only two days left after this one, I'm spent.

I try to choose my topics carefully and my words even more carefully.  If I wrote each and everything I wanted to write, I would come off as bitter and unhappy about certain things and that's just not who I am or what I do.  I don't really care about hurting other people's feelings because this is my space to write what I want, but some things I would write about would make me look at myself as crazy, so I know a few of you would do the same.

But anyway, that's all I have for now.  I promise to try and make the next two blogs worthy of your time.  Good night, folks.

Blogging Under The Influence.

The God'ess is cruising the Information Superhighway at about 3 MPH because I've taken 2 sleeping pills and I'm waiting for them to kick in.  So while I was waiting, I thought I'd write whatever comes to mind.  I probably won't remember half of what I write but here goes...


1. Remember that list of qualifications that we all had about what kind of man we wanted when we were younger?  I've never been the gold digger, money hungry type but I did want Imaginary Man to make at least $100,000, driver a nice car  (BMW preferably), be over 6ft tall with the body of Adonis and a Mandingo dick. Now, I would be happy if Imaginary Man had a job (medical benefits nice but not mandatory), a car (one that's more reliable than that bucket of bolts I drive), height and weight not important and a Mandingo dick. 


2.  Speaking of cars, I've been looking for one and I've narrowed it down to something that goes vroom.  


3.  I was at work Tuesday, speaking to a member over the phone, and I asked him if there was anything else I could help him with.  He said, "Yes.  Have you seen Ray Charles' house".  I said no.  He said, "Neither has he." O_o

4.  I'm getting my hair done tomorrow and I'm getting a sew-in.  I haven't had one of those since 2000.  I'm excited about how it's going to turn out but of course, I'm nervous too.  If it looks half as good as Antoine Dodson's hair, I'm gonna be one fly diva at the banquet.


5.  These sleeping pills are making feel a bit nauseous.  


6.  Why is "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen one of the best songs ever written by anybody anywhere?


7.  Hell, why was Queen one of the best groups ever?


Guess I'll end it there, folks.  The pills are working and I must not waste my hard-earned money.  


Tootalooo mudda fuckaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!

The Unblog

I've been busy today and I still have a few things to do before I go to bed, so I really don't have the time or the energy to blog. But I'll let Raheem tell you what I always have time for.

Good nite.