what can i say? i'm an eccentric woman.

got more soul

than a sock

with a hole.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Let's go to sleep in Paris...

The Remix. FINALLY. Check it out.

Lupe Fiasco ft Pharrell, Q-Tip, and Sarah Green

Bonus: Paris Tokyo Jazz Mix

Saturday, September 13, 2008

September 13. The Wonder.

You had passed away long ago, long before I knew your name and could speak it. You were a blurry sketch to me. I had to figure you out - research you and learn about you. I asked myself why people praised you the way they did. I had to find you. I remember listening to your words on your CDs, wondering about you – your life, your kin, the things you said. You wrote lovely poems. In The Depths of Solitude was my favorite. Still is. I felt just like you at times. I felt alone, always trying to find myself. I know what it was like; trying to be accepted by everyone, trying to please everyone. I know. Even in your songs, I could feel your voice in my heart. Until the End of Time. Do for Love. Changes. I Get Around, ha-ha. The things you said. They spoke to me. I watched one of your speeches once. 1992 speech, I think. I was in a daze watching it because I knew you meant what you said. I felt you. You truly wanted to change the world, change the system. You wanted to help your people build a better life and a better future. You weren’t like other artists. You were one of a kind. Yet lingering under the surface of these inspirational words was a dark deathly side of you. Maybe you were addicted to it, I’m unsure. But the things you said. I wondered about them and I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why you spewed such slighting slurs at the same people you wanted to help and change. I didn’t get it. Why would you do that? The shady side of you was emerging more and more as time passed. It was angering me. You said ugly words. You fought foul fights. There was only so much you could handle, I know. You were always in the spotlight. Someone was always praising you. And someone was always criticizing you. But your actions angered me, so much that I almost hated you for them. You were acting brainless. The things you said. It was beyond me how you had the guts to say them. All the talent and intellect a young man like you had was slowly going down the drain. It angered me. Convictions swallowed your whole life. In my heart though, I knew you were a lost soul wandering on the streets and stages worldwide trying to find yourself. When it hit me that you had already passed long ago, I was sad, living the life of a fan in '96. I just asked myself why you had to go so soon. It was too soon. I wasn’t ready and neither was the world. I still haven’t accepted it. To me, your presence lives on. You became a beautiful yet staggering painting. You touched my life in ways I never knew possible. I thank you for that. Sometimes I wonder about whom you would’ve been and what you would’ve been doing today. I miss you a lot, a whole lot. I’ve shed tears just thinking about you. It’s just not the same without you. But I still hope that you’ve found yourself and peace within.

Love always.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Sexy Swagger.

Lance Gross is too fine.

via theybf.com

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

A Taste of the T.

Beautifully edited video. LOVELY. The words he used to describe Toronto hold a universe of truth. I was at this event (Parade && Picnic) and it was exciting, exhilerating, and one of the best experiences I've ever had. I think I saw myself for half a second...I think.

Big ups to Scarborough

via Nahright

Funny Shit.

I came across this by luck. I guarentee a laugh. After watching this, my stomach was airless and my eyes were anything but tearless.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Sleepy Nights

Brimming bags of sleep
Dwelling underneath my eyes
An unending dream


I like it.


Angel Eyes - Janita

Let Me Love You - Janita


Born Once More

I had my first day of university. I was scared, nervous, excited, happy, cheerless, worried, weary, bamboozled, energized and fired up. I walked up to the university on my own. There was no one to hold my hand and comfort me, to tell me everything will be ok. There were no tears this time. There was no turning back, because God knows I’m not taking another hour long ride on a subway full of surprises and delays when I woke up this early. For the first time in my life, I am attending a school with no reputation, no status, no name, no face. Nothing. I’m label-free, baby. It’s weird, but I get to be me.

CRM 100
I walked towards my first class of the day, 9:50 AM, with a bagel with cream cheese in one hand and a tottering French vanilla in the other. I believe…that I spilled at least 25 cents of it. Clumsy ol’ me. I was looking adamantly for the building that held my class. It was like reading one of those “Where’s Waldo?” books or playing a tricky ass game of eye spy. It was like this all day, despite only having one lecture and two labs. After 4 whole centuries, I found the building. The classroom was easy to find, to my surprise. I walked in only to see most of the seats filled. I thought I was early. It’s 9:50 dammit. I stood still for a split second to stumble on a familiar face. I scanned and I scanned. Not one friend. Not one familiar. I made my way to the top of the classroom. It was almost like I was tip-toeing because I was unknown to everyone. No one saw me. In their diversely colored eyes, was just another classmate, just another black person, just another dumb motherfucker, just another bitch, just another lovely girl. I sat down and got out my green binder and lucky pen. I was ready.

The professor walked in and introduced himself as a man who is curious about law and crime. He looked relatively young and seemed down with the OPP. The words out of his mouth floated in and out of fresh and filthy ears. He introduced the course, made some funny jokes and sparked discussion about touchy topics such as racial profiling. As he did, I kept my lips together. I wanted to hear my fellow classmates and see their characters come to life before they saw mine. It gives me a feel of my competition. After all, we all want the best grade. Yet, the discussion intrigued me to the tenth degree. The topics were brought up through questions, but the people made the topics. There were small debates left, right and centre. I knew I was going to love this class. While listening to the opinionated and the ‘like’ word abusers with my ears, I inspected the room with my eyes: blonde chick in the high-waisted jeans with the Starbucks cup, definitely a fashionista; tall, dark and handsome on my left; Red haired girl in the t-shirt and jeans, laid back like a lazy boy chair; skinny guy with the glasses and purple tee, one word for him: nerd. I bet he reads comic books.
As the class came to an end, I was joyful. On top of having one less lab today, I was excited for what was to come in the future, whether it was new friends, new foes or new debates. I was joyful.

Lunch time hit me at 12. When I exited the building, there was a block party going on. Booths and free stuff – what more could you ask for? I made my way down the street, picking up pens, water bottles, popcorn, gum, shirts, key chains, lanyards, and anything else that was free of charge. With no familiar faces in sight, I went to a restaurant called Chipotle Mexican Grill with, you guessed it, a coupon. One free burrito for me. As I was ordering my food, I watched the lady stack it up in the tortilla – chicken, lime rice, black beans, tomatoes, cheese, guacamole, and some spicy sauce. I sat on the lipstick red stool, facing the window where people walking on the other side. It was fascinating to see different people doing different things – talking on their cell phones, listening to their mp3 players, and even staring at me. I must be stunning even while chewing a burrito. I finished eating with time to spare before my next class. I left the place and walked around like a tourist, taking in the impure air and admiring the big flashy signs. I wandered about for almost an hour, watching the mass amount of people crossing the streets, buying hot dogs from the vendors, refusing pamphlets, accepting honey bunches of oats boxes and admiring the street artists. The old lady with the bad fashion sense was near the mall again, holding that sign of hers – “God will save us” or something like that. Even that pro-black guy was there, talking people to death about fighting the power that wanted to go grab some grub. I glanced at my watch. Time to go.

SOC 105
I show up to the door of the room. 5 people are standing outside, chatting away as if they were about to skip class. I was wondering why people were standing outside, despite the door being unlocked and unclosed. I would’ve asked…but I didn’t want to interrupt the conversation. So I did what anyone else would do – I walked in the classroom. I sat myself down near the front so that this time I would be able to see the teacher and hear their voice well. A minute after I walked in, the rest followed. They sat down and got out their notebooks like responsible students. I talked to this one girl in front of me, asking her why everyone was standing outside. She told me she had no idea either, and we laughed it up for a moment, a short-lived moment. After that, we exchanged no words. My eyes exchanged looks with the back of her head though. 10 minutes go by and the prof has not shown up. I was sitting in amazement how late this prof was. It’s university! At least send out a notification because one of the laptop abusers would check it out. 5 more minutes go by and we all start to discuss this problem. We come to the conclusion that because it was a lab and the first day of classes, there wouldn’t be a class, hence the teacher being absent. I felt dumb for a moment, a short lived moment. I took my stuff, stuffed it in my bag, and walked out with the entire class. What a waste.

I hopped the train and took a journey home. My first day, was an okay day. I met a few people, saw a few places and enjoyed my world of wonder and amazement, the Ryerson University experience