Disclaimer: Typically this isn’t the direction I’d like to go with the blog or how I would like the site, the show and the Fan Page to be portrayed. I sat on this one for a long, thinking long and hard before I considered posting it. This post came from a somewhat dark and frustrating place. It’s irreprehensible for me to allow this sort of thing to happen, but I have to express that these writings come from a “real” place and aren’t merely for entertainment or to seek attention. This is uncharacteristic of what we represent, however the thoughts are real; no different than what you may feel in the darkest corners of your mind.
Metaphysics is defined as the branch of philosophy that deals with the first principles of things, including abstract concepts such as being, knowing, substance, cause, identity, time, and space. When practiced, the participant learns that emotions are a response to reactions that are felt inside of them. Whereas, if someone is angry with you or combative in nature, that’s their reality and beyond your control. Your reaction in turn will lead to sequences that will alter your future. An example would be if you stubbed your toe while getting out of bed. If you allow that one event to affect your mood, and don’t view it as a singular moment in time, the remainder of your day may proceed as follows: you spill coffee on your clothes; you step in dog feces while walking across the grass; you’re involved in an automobile accident or receive a speeding ticket on the way to work; so on and so forth. The same is true in the inverse. If you start your morning with a pleasant attitude, the outcome will follow suit. Finding $50 in a pair of jeans; receiving the promotion at work you applied for; winning a prize in a contest. It’s the yin and the yang; the ebb and flow of the universe; karma if you will. It’s something that I practice and try to work on daily. However, on this occasion there’s a tremor of discomfort in my soul. The heartbeat is irregular; palms sweaty as the words spoken are rewound in my mind as a reminder of public perception. What began as a whisper continues to echo in the chasm of my mind. See one of the leading principles is to not worry about what people say or think of you. Whether you’re being praised or ridiculed, the objective is to stay above the fray; not allowing your ego to drive your emotions. LeBron James is a better man than me to endure all the criticism he’s received for decisions he’s made during the past four (4) years. One of the reason I started this blog was to provide an honest display of life in the written word. Not only to provide information, but to always being true to who I am as an individual. It was purposely intended for me to receive the information that sparked this inferno, so it’s only appropriate that I fan the flames. So for this blog “Parental Discretion Is Advised!” only because it’s personal and addressing “hate”. Let the subliminal pistol play begin. (Rules: “On my count, take ten {10} paces, turn, then fire!)
The funny thing about being human is, no matter how perfect we try to appear on the surface, we all have our visible flaws; internal demons that we try to keep caged before its savagery is mistakenly or purposely released on an unsuspecting individual. I try to never personalize the blogs because I want to provide an objective perspective on the topics I discuss; providing the reader with a different point of view by allow them to think critically of themselves and the world around them. The prism from which we view life is sometimes distorted by the emotions we harbor. What may prove to be a major issue for one person may have no consequence to the other individual(s) involved. What’s all the more befuddling is the fact that we never truly know the people we have angst with because without self-reflection and control of the ego, we never truly know ourselves to pass judgment.
For several days, my spirit had been troubling me about events that had taken place; and premonitions about future trials. My inner voice had been warning me to stay away from different venues or verbalizing my thoughts on different topics because I knew there would be resistance. Now that I’ve veered off the road of conventional thinking, I’ve created more enemies and most of those who I thought were friends, supporters and “family” has been exposed as frauds. I have no brothers, sisters or a true best friend to confide in, so I release my passion with key strokes, the sound of the saxophone, snares and horns, and the consumption of libations; it’s therapeutic. The later has proven to be a determent and it’s a vice I must break as it enhances what some may think is an already contentious attitude. Drinking the 80 proof is similar to the injection of truth serum coursing through one’s veins releasing a euphoric sensation that engages the brain to transmit thoughts to the vocal cords having a residual effect on the listener. The words may ring true, but the context and arena in which spoken can have damaging results. So before the onset of events leading up to my 25th high school class reunion, I wrote a blog this past Thursday titled, “Caps, Gowns and Tassels.” It was a brief summation of my thoughts pertaining to the forthcoming festivities and how I was battling myself attend. I’ll be the first to say growing up I wasn’t a guerilla (thug/hustler/bad boy), the most popular or a three time letterman of the All-Whatever Team. I was fine being myself. During my developmental years I had the pleasure of hanging with a diverse crowd, which made me a well rounded person. I wanted to be cool, so I completed my homework in school so I could walk home with no books and blend in. But by no means, and I have this conviction to this day, was I trying to be more than what I was. I was smart, and sometimes embarrassed to be so. Most, if not all of the so-called “popular” people weren’t in my classes. I didn’t skip school, smoke “weed” or have a car to take girls off campus for lunch so I guess that made me “green” (a square; nerd; regular). So in “my” mind’s eye, I didn’t feel welcome amongst my peers so I didn’t attend as a result.
A day after writing the aforementioned blog, I began feeling more hate enveloping me. By happenstance, while working and listening to my iTouch, an interlude titled “Hater” by an artist out of Oakland, California named Yukmouth played. As the two (2) voices on the track exchanged dialogue, I couldn’t help but relate to how the animosity of one of the characters verbalized what I had been feeling. Inserting my name and show (The Porch Reloaded) in place of the featured protagonist spoke volumes; it captured everything I “knew” was discreetly taken place without my knowledge. With all that being said, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never been ashamed to face myself in the mirror and admit to erroneous behavior. If I’m wrong, I’m raising my hand in the classroom yelling to the teacher, “Pick me! Pick me!” because I’m willing to take responsibility. That was no more evident than in a blog I wrote titled, “I Hate Myself! The Struggle Between Being Honest and Being Real.” Resembling everything I write, I try to provide an honest representation of my feelings regarding the human experience; providing comfort with the hopes that the font jumping off the page allows the reader to become engaged with the struggles we all endure. As if I’m telling them, “I know you feel my multitude of emotions. The highs of the elations; the lows of the disappointments; there’s nothing wrong with being vulnerable. It makes you authentic, real; it makes you human. Like a songstress singing a love ballad, I’m expressing your feelings for you. I’m your voice.” That blog was meant as an apology for someone who felt I had hurt and betrayed their trust; and it was an assessment of me and what I needed to do to be better as a person. Despite that, the “hate” didn’t stop. And I was informed that an unhappy individual voiced their displeasure regarding a past incident that I thought had long been resolved. I guess some feelings die hard, and unbeknownst to me, this person was “extremely” hurt by my actions. So now, like Paul Revere atop his mighty steed galloping from town to town, this person can’t help but bellow their disdain for me. I can’t lie, initially I was bothered; for all my flaws, I always try to have a good heart and show love when warranted. Unlike most people, I never intend to maliciously hurt anyone; whether it be physically or wounding their pride. I wanted to retaliate, strike back, and blow the spot up!!! But what would that accomplish! It would make me hypocritical. All the encouraging posts and blogs, my attempts to spread love and enlightenment would all spiral down the toilet with the press of the “post” caption. Is it worth it? To satisfy my ego and fight for my honor is it worth resorting to any measure other than apologizing? I’m twenty-one (21) about mine and will stand in the paint right, wrong or indifferent. With what I’m trying to accomplish, I haven’t even made it to a level where the real “hate” will start. This is but a small sample size of what’s to come if I’m to reach the heights that I know I’m capable of. I won’t apologize for not being suspended from school, spending a stint in jail or being forced to attend CSI classes my behavior warranted such discipline. If having those characteristics or swimming in the same school, in the same direction, traveling down the same stream was necessary for me to be accepted, then I glad I grew up and chose another route. There are things in my past that I’m unhappy of and I could easily be in a different position than I am now. So apply metaphysics to this situation, “what you eat doesn’t make me defecate!” Therefore I dismiss the urges to battle in the court of public opinion; it’s a no win proposition. But just know this, there isn’t a need for direct eye, a subtle gaze, fake handshakes/hugs/kisses or idol conversation. You don’t f*ck with me, and I don’t f*ck with you! I’ll help those who’re willing to accept it, show love to those that appreciate it and continue pushing forward with my endeavors to become a better individual. Now I’mma peel off like a band-aid. LOL! “We Are The Change!” I’m gone! (b)
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