she knows I be screen capturing
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Rap City the Basement
I broke down in further detail who this gentleman is to me in the day 1 NY post; in short one of the most pleasant strangers I've ever encountered. Amongst many things, what I found to be most intriguing in our conversation is his reason for moving out of New York. To Dallas, ironically. Overall it was a job offer... but beneath it all.. the toll of 911 still affected him 9 years later. He finally left in 2011. Said the city didn't feel the same. ...9 years later
I'm almost certain his name was John and somewhere in my phone, I have his contact information.
He was such an awesome guy. Blessings to that man.
New York: July 2014 (Day 1)
Alife watch party, Art Gallery/performance, Drinks at Pianos, Twerk Fest block party and more --> full post here
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
1:11am
I wonder if I work friendships/relationships in so much, that when given the option.. someone would choose to do without me. It's such a terrible thought. possible reality. There are people I don't associate with-most of the time from a minor disagreement and I just let that friendship go. I can do without it. It's light when you're the one feeling that way, but how many people feel that way about me. How many people are done with me.
I'm uncomfortable.
I'm uncomfortable.
3:37pm
I feel like writing letters to people. but I have no actual intention of giving people these letters. I guess common folk would call this a diary. I haven't decided if I'm going to do it or not. Not sure if it's kind of childish, or if I want to do it because subconsciously, I want the person I'm writing to see it one day? don't know.
I'm watching Her. It's so goddamn relevant in so many different ways. Artistically and Philosophically. Can't get over the brilliance conjured in this movie. And coincidentally I'm watching another film with Joaquin Phoenix.. so underrated. Between this and Inherent Vice, I'm tempted to go back and watch every film he's ever done. not really, but close.
In addition to setting up my schedule and syncing my computer and phone calendar, I also want a physical one. And sticky notes. But I can't help but feel like if I use sticky notes for the note to self reminders .. that's like the first stage of going crazy. If I go missing and they check my apartment. Once they see the sticky notes they're going to suggest I was off the shits, at least a little.
I'm watching Her. It's so goddamn relevant in so many different ways. Artistically and Philosophically. Can't get over the brilliance conjured in this movie. And coincidentally I'm watching another film with Joaquin Phoenix.. so underrated. Between this and Inherent Vice, I'm tempted to go back and watch every film he's ever done. not really, but close.
In addition to setting up my schedule and syncing my computer and phone calendar, I also want a physical one. And sticky notes. But I can't help but feel like if I use sticky notes for the note to self reminders .. that's like the first stage of going crazy. If I go missing and they check my apartment. Once they see the sticky notes they're going to suggest I was off the shits, at least a little.
I was expecting something completely different so initially I was confused as shit when I opened it. Realized by the adjustment made to my middle name who sent it. besides eBay. It's a dirt bike Honda jersey.. something I've actually been wanting for some time now. I don't even remember when I mentioned it to her but I'm sure I did; lo and behold. Thanks, Jayde.
She decided it's better off I keep my gift to her until she visits. It's tight as shit, not gonna lie. 3 things total.
Symbolic gifts or ones given with a little extra thought steer clear to my heart, that goes for everybody.
Monday, January 12, 2015
11:30pm
Black America might object; I don't hear anybody complaining. In light of everything that's going on.. I don't know if this is White America's quiet apology but I'm not okay with Black Annie and Black Daria. Like what?
I don't want this to derive from my point that they simply shouldn't have switched the main character's race. But imagine the uproar if they substituted any main classic/americanized black character with one of white decent. Whatever man.
I don't want this to derive from my point that they simply shouldn't have switched the main character's race. But imagine the uproar if they substituted any main classic/americanized black character with one of white decent. Whatever man.
Miami-Art Basel
8:46pm: Is this thing on
Oh. Oh my, how I've missed thee. I moved my responsibility to an entirely upgraded blog and since, people still hit me up about this one. I'll tell you what, I've missed this blog more than any of you. Sometimes I wonder how much it's subconsciously affected me. I gonna say a lot of extra shit, then get back to the point of my last sentence at the very end.
Problem
I was talking earlier today about how I have a handful of friends who like to keep tabs on me. They like to know what's going on in my life, the good and the bad. But they just want to know. Not actually converse in detail or hear what I have to say about it. I started noticing this in high school with one person in particular, but now it's the absolute norm. Much homage is paid to social media. (Remember towards the end of the Myspace Era, you could change your emotional status/mood via choice of emoji [God forbid Facebook bringing that back]). Social Media is crazy like that; just gettin' to be more personal and "actual"--> i.e. Snapchat. What will the network that shares your fucking heart rate be called. Not to say I'm opposed to snapchat, I thoroughly enjoy it. But occasionally, I feel some type of way when:
-I sit near a classmate I know who naturally feels no need to speak to me
-the person I'm texting ceases to respond after two messages
-I invite someone to grab food or drinks with me and their availability spontaneously combust
-I try to touch bases with closer-yet out of town friends and unveiled, they're motherfucking bubble boy.
All of the above our honest incidents acted out repeatedly by several friends-- perhaps the same list of friends who check my snapchat instantaneously as it's updated. In two seconds, I can show you who/what/when/where/why for lunch, but sometimes I'd much rather tell you. And when I'm the neediest, I'd rather fucking have lunch with said person I'm probably talking to.
Concluding...
Father Time's remarks on Generation Y and the absence of *friendly* human interactions has been reinstated a thousand times... and we treat it/ignore it like those annoying ass service provider warnings on T.V. ..It's apart of the whole social media epidemic. One of those contracted risks we all agreed to when we checked off "Terms and Conditions."
Disregarding each other directly, then showing digital acknowledgment on a social network. That should do it. Crazy how a Retweet or Instagram Like can make up for an unfinished conversation. We have all outdone ourselves simplifying communication with our homies to a few pushed buttons on our touchscreen phones. Shoutouts to the irony in that last sentence and progressively-- this new age form of keeping in touch with one another. As far as Social Media goes, I'm a hypocrite, I fucking love imprisoning/harvesting my insecurities all the while building confidence through a number of likes. No seriously, social media is undoubtedly an instrument of opportunity. And I really do appreciate the updates and connections I'm able to very casually keep.
As long as I can still upkeep them in real life/lyfe too.
Conclusion
Anyways, with all that being said. I wonder the subconscious affect blogging has had on me. More personally between my friends and I, I wonder if I've set myself up for the way they go about me now. My fresh adolescent years of emotions and experiences and significant life changes have -for the most part- been posted publicly for strangers, myself virtually bare. Some of my closest friends now followed this blogspot before we became cool. Even after, they just had to check this site to check on me. Maybe that's why keeping up with me via twitter/insta/snapchat is enough for them now. Maybe I'm forging some terribly justified excuse for them. All I know on my own behalf is that I'm glad to be back blogging. I need this shit. I talk a lot. I can endlessly extend my thoughts on something, like I have with this post, and feel that I've cleared some space in my mind. No fucking idea who's reading this, but I know I'm relatable. I know niggas relate to me. And the threshold of it all: me laying out my thoughts is the best shot I have at being understood they way I want people to understand.
This felt really good to write. If you've read this far, that's much further than I would've gotten.
Thank you and I'm back, y'all.
Problem
I was talking earlier today about how I have a handful of friends who like to keep tabs on me. They like to know what's going on in my life, the good and the bad. But they just want to know. Not actually converse in detail or hear what I have to say about it. I started noticing this in high school with one person in particular, but now it's the absolute norm. Much homage is paid to social media. (Remember towards the end of the Myspace Era, you could change your emotional status/mood via choice of emoji [God forbid Facebook bringing that back]). Social Media is crazy like that; just gettin' to be more personal and "actual"--> i.e. Snapchat. What will the network that shares your fucking heart rate be called. Not to say I'm opposed to snapchat, I thoroughly enjoy it. But occasionally, I feel some type of way when:
-I sit near a classmate I know who naturally feels no need to speak to me
-the person I'm texting ceases to respond after two messages
-I invite someone to grab food or drinks with me and their availability spontaneously combust
-I try to touch bases with closer-yet out of town friends and unveiled, they're motherfucking bubble boy.
All of the above our honest incidents acted out repeatedly by several friends-- perhaps the same list of friends who check my snapchat instantaneously as it's updated. In two seconds, I can show you who/what/when/where/why for lunch, but sometimes I'd much rather tell you. And when I'm the neediest, I'd rather fucking have lunch with said person I'm probably talking to.
Concluding...
Father Time's remarks on Generation Y and the absence of *friendly* human interactions has been reinstated a thousand times... and we treat it/ignore it like those annoying ass service provider warnings on T.V. ..It's apart of the whole social media epidemic. One of those contracted risks we all agreed to when we checked off "Terms and Conditions."
Disregarding each other directly, then showing digital acknowledgment on a social network. That should do it. Crazy how a Retweet or Instagram Like can make up for an unfinished conversation. We have all outdone ourselves simplifying communication with our homies to a few pushed buttons on our touchscreen phones. Shoutouts to the irony in that last sentence and progressively-- this new age form of keeping in touch with one another. As far as Social Media goes, I'm a hypocrite, I fucking love imprisoning/harvesting my insecurities all the while building confidence through a number of likes. No seriously, social media is undoubtedly an instrument of opportunity. And I really do appreciate the updates and connections I'm able to very casually keep.
As long as I can still upkeep them in real life/lyfe too.
Conclusion
Anyways, with all that being said. I wonder the subconscious affect blogging has had on me. More personally between my friends and I, I wonder if I've set myself up for the way they go about me now. My fresh adolescent years of emotions and experiences and significant life changes have -for the most part- been posted publicly for strangers, myself virtually bare. Some of my closest friends now followed this blogspot before we became cool. Even after, they just had to check this site to check on me. Maybe that's why keeping up with me via twitter/insta/snapchat is enough for them now. Maybe I'm forging some terribly justified excuse for them. All I know on my own behalf is that I'm glad to be back blogging. I need this shit. I talk a lot. I can endlessly extend my thoughts on something, like I have with this post, and feel that I've cleared some space in my mind. No fucking idea who's reading this, but I know I'm relatable. I know niggas relate to me. And the threshold of it all: me laying out my thoughts is the best shot I have at being understood they way I want people to understand.
This felt really good to write. If you've read this far, that's much further than I would've gotten.
Thank you and I'm back, y'all.