I thought I had someone man…I really did. She was everything I ever asked for when it come to having a woman in my life. The reality if everything is that somebody that is obviously better than me has stepped in and has taken the role of what I was…I was her’s, she was mine. We were one. Together in happiness we resided and now she’s gone. I just wonder who this person is that hurt my soul and took the lady that I had strong feelings for because he’s turned my life up side down and it hurt man…it hurts. I guess whatever we had wasn’t real.
I’m not gonna stand up for black people in this Ferguson situation due to the fact that the only time black people want to come together is when something good or bad has happened to one black person.
Example: Barack Obama runs for office, EVERY black person stands up and supports him because he’s black and they want him to become the first black president. A lot of black people couldn’t cote because they’re convicted felons but they stood behind this man all the way until he got into office. Then what? Us black folk forgot and went right back to doing the same shit; destroying ourselves.
Example 2: Treyvon Martin gets shot by a Mexican. Black people all come together again to protest. For what? Because someone of another race shot and killed a black kid? Yes the situation was fucked up but the only reason why black folk got together was because the boy was black and they figured it was a racial issue.
Example 3: Michael Brown gets shot by a white cop. Black people go into an uproar. The reason this time? Because a white cop shot Mike Brown six times because he rushed him. What do us black people see? Another reason we should get together and destroy shit to show America we’re tired of these “racial issues.”
Why in the hell is it that we feel the need to come together to support one black person that fatally got shot but we can’t get together to uplift our damn people. Why can’t we stop violence in the hood, inspire young blacks that basketball isn’t life. Why can’t we bring education to the streets and teach people how to succeed in life? Black people don’t got the mentality. We’re brainwashed to think that when it benefits one of our kind, we need to stand up for them because they’re going to reach back out and help us. It doesn’t work like that and the day black people learn that becoming a nigga isn’t cool, is the day that black folk will prosper.
ps. Race isn’t even real.
For everyone we all have that one day in the year where we gather friends and family and celebrate the day we were born. Its just another part of life that we have accepted and cherish as we grow old and wither away. Every year when the month of November rolls around I feel the hype settle in and my nerves start to rattle. I’m going to be another year older and another year of not getting shit done. Yeah I know that sounds bad but really, earlier tonight I had what I call an “Early Life Crisis.” Does is sound stupid? Yes. Am I being serious about all of this? Yes. So what is this young afrocentric black kid rambling on about?
Remember when you were younger sitting back in your room or watching TV…or whatever the hell it was that you did when you were a kid, you would think about the future? I know I did a whole lot. I remember a specific time back in elementary school when I was on the bus thinking about what the future may hold for me. Just like an ordinary brain washed American, I figured I would graduate from high school, go to college, get a degree in whatever, and then get a good job and be out the house by the age of 23. Fast forward to today and here I am with no car, a low paying job, and living in my parents house getting yelled at for eating the last hot pocket. The life I live now isn’t what I envisioned years ago. Hell, I didn’t even think I would be a skateboarder or a writer for a tech website.
As these days go on, I start to think more and more about what I really want to do in life. Right now, everything seems to be at a halt due to my father trying to drag me into running his business and me grudgingly trying to skate away. I’ve really been thrown right in-between a rock and a hard place and its kinda’ hard to get out. I have dreams of becoming a professional skateboarder and traveling the world. I also have other dreams of becoming a computer programmer, famous blogger, and owner of one of the worlds most popular social networking websites. I WANT TO BE THE BLACK STEVE JOBS. The problem is, I got a lot on my plate. I mean look back at the list I just wrote and tell me each task isn’t difficult to achieve. I know I can do it but theres this thing called “lack of Motivation” that seeps in. Now for skateboarding, my lack of motivation never touches it, I forever carry the love of skating with me and day dream about it (like right now). But then there are my other goals like learning to program and being a famous writer. Those types of goals I need to go to school for, or at least find some type of schooling that dodges the whole concept of having to take general education classes. Ya’ know, something like hacker school in NY.
In the end after analyzing everything I go into this depressed mode and start crying (not really), but I have actually broke down before in my bathroom thinking about life. Life in general is such a tricky dilemma, and I say dilemma because we have to do so much to sustain a healthy body and then turn around and do work using either our brains or physical labor. It sometimes leads me to question why people don’t ever want to die and live forever on earth. Sounds a bit silly to me (and no that wasn’t a suicidal thought).
To be honest about everything, I don’t think I planned out life properly. Its either that or I am really just too mellow and have no care in trying to prosper in this world that I have taken the role of that guy who lives with is parents his whole life chasing a dream that he’ll never catch. But thats not what I believe in because the dreams and ambitions that I have in life will eventually come to fruition. As usual I’m just overthinking life and not focusing on the hard work that I need to commit to so I can become the mere thoughts I have of myself.
So as I usually say…maybe One Day.
ps. Another note, I’m 21 guys. It feels a tad bit weird being able to walk inside of a bar with a bunch of older people drinking beer and playing pool, but I got the rest of my life of having this sort of freedom bestowed upon me. In some sense its cool but in other case’s is like, “I’ve waited 21 years just to do this?” lol But you know man, thats life and I’ve been kick pushing through a majority of it. Guess I’ll keep on kicking.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday. What is it? Better yet what the hell is an “is?” Can we is? Before I get too side tracked on this “ising” aspect, I remember the day when Mr. Wixom walked through the door. He walked in standing tall with a clean shaven head and an atomic wedgie from hell. Just as another terrible human being from this hellish society, I began to judge him, thinking of him as a weirdo and quietly making fun of him in my head. He was dead silent when he walked into the class room, only making occasional heavy breathing noise’s. The eerie silence went on for a good 5 minutes before it was broken by a slightly deep, smooth, and clear radio reporter voice. I was shocked; while making fun of him in my head, I envisioned him having one of those obese fat guy voices. I was dead wrong.
I don’t want to sound like some weirdo, but this man has a beautiful voice and a very astounding love for the English language. For an entire semester his teaching was relentless. He engaged the entire class into casual or argumentative conversations, drilled us on how we should refrain from passive words, and would occasionally slap himself on the wrist for using sexist language. His love for teaching English was rubbed deeply into my brain and is still sitting comfortable inside waiting for its time to shine. The art of writing is beautiful and was instilled by a man who not only can talk in a southern accent better than me, but who is still fuzzy on the whole “Good, Bad thing” (Ghost Buster joke).
I am glad that I took Mr. Wixoms class. He made me love writing. He has given me and entire new outlook on reading and writing, in which I plan to implement more into my life. I want to be the best, become a better writer and make my blog look incredible on the web. The enjoyment and fulfillment just doesn’t stop on this site, I hope to go farther and write for other sites and maybe even columns!
In the end, all of this enthusiasm and ego boost goes to this very weird man named Mr. Wixom. I thank him everyday for the knowledge he has passed down to me.
So what is a Wixom? Well it is just a name, but Mr. Wixom is a knowledgeable teacher with the powers of Obi Wan Kenobe and Master Splinter combined.
Ps, What is “ising?” Can we is? Here, I’ll “is” real quick…….
The End. :D
Its been a while since I have talked to you guys that keep up with my blog or at least read it. I haven’t been doing much lately but going to school and skateboarding.
That really is it; I haven’t done anything but learn how to be a better writer and learn how to put a bunch of numbers together to make a bigger one. lol How awesome is that? Oh, I learned how to use a semicolon. Well at least I think I did. haha!
Yeah, so now what?
Ya come this far in life and then you come across a post like this.
Well its simple my friends, when I speak you listen and when I listen you speak. There is nothing more here then just a non-finalized way of ending a bad conversation but when you don’t try your best to think about it you get caught up in all the bogus crap hipsters leave out in the road.
I like to sometimes look at everything as a trial and the time you go to bed is the tribulations. I got a funny story to tell that has to do with trials and tribulations but its to long to explain. The point is that when you got one thing to do and you get side tracked, then things get really messy. Like right now.
I would like to think I am sounding smart but in all reality I am not. I am just wasting time as usually just spilling the beans of a worthless human who stands on top of a rolling piece of wood.
So in my English 101 class, we had to read a selection from a book written by Anne Lamott. Or at least I think it was from her book.
The selection my teacher had us read was entitled Shitty First Drafts. It pretty much was about how when any writer sits down to work on a project they have to write a shitty first draft. I really took that to heart when I read what Ms. Lamott wrote. It made me think about my blog and how all of my post are shitty first drafts. Even this one is a shitty first draft because I have no intention of going back and fixing any errors…unless I catch them skimming over it.
I always tell myself that I am a good writer but after the first 2 weeks of English I have come to the conclusion that I am not. There is just so much that I don’t know. I’m not sure if its from the 2 years of not taking English since high school or me just not actually knowing. I do see myself gradually growing and becoming a better writer. Hell, I like to do it, just not to the extent of dedicated writers who walk around with a journal 24/7.
Whether my writing is good or bad I still enjoy getting here on my blog and making post that people will occasionally like and comment. I really appreciate the people who like my post and even share their thoughts. It pleases me to know that I have a small crowd out there that is watching.
Well, I guess I’ll go back to being an internet junky. I may do a little homework.
ps. I went over this post and fixed some grammatical errors and re-worded a lot of stuff. My teacher is rubbing off on me.
Tell us about the experience of being outside, looking in — however you’d like to interpret that.
The inner circle to most people sounds like a secret organization that is with-holding information on world domination. To me, its just a group of people who have gained a certain popular status among peers in a social setting creating the illusion of the “cool” kids.
Being that person that is outside of it all makes most feel left out. I never felt like that way, I was that guy who wanted to sneak in and destroy the reputation and image created by the inner circle groups and taunt people with my conspicuous actions. As bad as that sounds I never got around to it, I made my owner inner circle of odd people and went on about my day.
I’m always the guy that is outside looking in. I mean what the fuck do I need to go inside for when this gives me the opportunity to criticize, stereotype or just let me create my own explanation of why these people choose to stay inside of a circle of oppression.
I understand that I am getting a little too deep but I want people to really think so they can have a different mind set on life. I did the thinking at some point and I am extraordinarily happy that I did. We shouldn’t have to be standing outside looking in. We need to be looking around.
Why must the world be split and contained in small little sectors full of morons with the power to control people? Why must happiness and fulfillment be on the other side of a locked door? Why do we get treated like donkeys with a fucking key in front of our faces as we walk through life aimlessly trying to grab it?
Do you see what SOCIETY HAS DONE!
It really takes a lot to change a person. Whether its a death of a close relative or noticing how fortunate they are to be in the healthy state and condition with shelter and food. I sometimes ask myself why does it take so much to really move a human being? Is it because of our influence from American culture or just how we came into the world.
For someone like me who has pretty much been a loafer his whole life through school, I see that I need to make a very big change within myself and it is going to take tons of effort and strength to do so. Do we as humans really need a serious impact on our lives to change it? It seems so.
But what if we were to some how skip that step and succeed to the top without the suffering?
Would life be what it is now?
These are just thoughts that I had run through my head as I read a post on facebook from a friend. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments below.
My room is a box. There’s no air vents so I have to use an electric heater to heat my room up during the winter months. I just cut it off so I can let the cold air take over my room.
Once again I am in the middle of my room sitting down with my tablet in one hand and a plate of Vienna sausages in the other. I’ve been stuck in the house all day doing nothing productive but sitting in my room browsing the internet, Trying to make friends. My dad came home earlier and yelled at me about not figuring out how to open some damn word file. He’s been doing this for a month now. I’ve grown tired of it, contemplating on moving out and dealing with room mates. But the free room and manuel labor with my dads business is what keeps me here.
My dad went on a rant earlier about how he doesn’t know who me and my sister are. Claiming we are just reincarnations of past people. I believe him. He had me Google a book that he heard on the radio thats about children who have memories of past lives. It got me really thinking about who I really am and who the person I was before this life. I know for sure that I am reincarnated. I’m hoping that once I find out who I used to be then I can finally get the answers to why I love to skateboard so much and why I’m the person I am today.
Other than me wondering who I really am, I paid half of my school debt. Apparently I owe those bitches 800 something. I only paid half and plan to call and make sure the other half isn’t a mistake. God I hate college.