Bubbly.

I just like that word, "bubbly". It has nothing to do with anything, but I was thinking about it.

I can never get my thoughts together. They never seem to connect. They never seem to make sense and THAT I am truly aware of. I really have no explanation for some of the things I write…most of the things I write. So…don’t expect this one to be any different. I’d describe my mind like a film – stills in motion flashing on screen, leaving on cue, lingering in your mind because you don’t understand what just happened in front of you. Did that even make sense? I don’t know, but it’s like that. I don’t know why, but it is. I always thought I had some sort of a chemical imbalance in my brain because of the things I thought of and the way they would be painted. Who knows? The things I see with my third eye are always distorted. I can imagine, but my imaginings are always sketches, scribbles of rough notes. I can only see myself clearly there. I wonder why I can’t see myself clearly here, outside of myself. When I look in the mirror, I haven’t a clue of who I should be or what I should do. I don’t make sense, really. I can’t understand myself, but I know myself. Maybe I just know everything I’m not and not everything I am. Hmm. Let’s dive…
I think I like to write things, things that I sense with my body, things that I create with my mind. I love the idea of words coming together to tell a story in the most uncanny ways. I love how the little things can create big things. I’m not one for technique or form, but I can dig a sense of honesty any day of my life. That’s what I love about writing. That’s what I love about music – how thoughts and feelings can be expressed through wordless sounds. I love how people can say so much by saying so little. In four minutes, a time can be told, a story can be heard. I love music. I love writing. Jazz is a music form that I adore dearly because of its freedom yet complicated technique. Complex simplicity is my delight I guess. Sound is key. For things to come together they have to sound right; not in the literal sense, but in the sense that there’s some kind of flow. That explains my need to constantly look up words and expand my losing vocabulary so that I make things sound right. But maybe I’m being too complicated? Maybe I’m trying to make something come to life that simply isn’t. I mean, I’m trying to fit this mould of a writer, because that’s what I think I’m good at. But I don’t know. Am I really good? Who’s to say? No fishing, I hate that. Fool’s gold only sits in that ocean. But what do I do with this thought? I want to make sense of it all, but I don’t know how. I’m lost at sea, trying to be a person other than me, and what I just can’t see, is me being me. I like being me, I love being me, so why am I always trying to run free? Why can’t I simply be? Live for today and tomorrow will come hopefully? I just can’t see this light in front of me. Simply believe? We’ll see. I try to keep my own pace, let others do as they please, but I can’t seem to shake this question at sea.

CHASER.

I chased the sunset
Down the narrow road alone
Following the distant glow of light
Glimmer of tranquillity
Leaving the past behind me
I chased my love with eager to escape for good
Smiling with the gentle wind
Flying so high in my blissful mind
Above time’s anxious hands
I chased the sunset
Colliding with the shadow of the sky
It casted darkness over my eyes
Coldness through my body
The sunset, my sunset of calm
Descending into the horizon
Slowly departing from my gloomy eyes
But I still chase the sunset with a wish
With a need to be near
To escape
In love.

A Sugary Memory

I thought about you today. I was sitting in my room with my feet up, staring at the thorny looking white wall above me.
Wonder was running miles in my mind for a while…
We used to be friends. We were cool for a minute, walking through the same hallways and meeting the same people. Sometimes I’d pass you in one of those hallways while you were passing me, slowing down my pace as you inched closer to my being. You forever made me nervous. I couldn’t look into your eyes for a long time. My hands were always clammy when I saw you, even from afar. Whatever were to happen, I just hoped you wouldn’t shake my hand. When I did see you, we always exchanged those smiles, those elusive smiles, you and me. But the hugs were always obvious story-tellers. I thought you were unlike the people surrounding me or you. You were different, mysterious, and had the eyes to match. So…I never knew how to read you.
I remember how we always used to go the same way from school, east towards another sunrise. You’d tell me things, I’d tell you things – sweet things, funny things, weird things, cool things. We didn’t say much to each other outside of those things, though. I was quiet and you were lively. But we still kind of matched.
Later in the year though, I found something out. I became apprehensive about even talking to you because of this something. It wasn’t a bad thing. It wasn’t a cruel thing. It was just one of those complication things. It changed things between us, you and I. I knew what it was, but you didn’t. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell you how I felt. I wanted to let you know. But I didn’t. We drifted apart from there. I went right and you went left. Those smiles became straight faces and quick sharp glances. I looked down to avoid you. You looked over me. It was like amnesia slowly came to town. I lost sight of who you were, and that was my fault.
I forgot about you for a while, but I’d see you again. I’d see you again very often. No words were exchanged, only glimpses. I wanted to start over in a way, but I didn’t know how. It had been years since the last time I saw you. What do I say? I don’t know. Not too long ago I was looking for a room somewhere on the second floor, and you were right there, walking in front of me with someone else. I didn’t notice until I turned around on instinct. My hands weren’t clammy.
So I thought about you today. I thought about what could’ve been. I’m that kind of person. I wondered what we would be like if we still talked, if we were still friends. I don’t know, but I’ll wonder sometimes, like I did today.

Into Everything.

Fly beyond the sky

Into loving with no lights

Just stars, you and I...

No Shoes.

I walk many miles through fire and stone, barefooted and drained. I have no shoes to walk in. Now, my feet simply drag on behind me. As the sand falls, life leaks through my body, through the holes in my soul. I carry the weight of what seems like the world on my back since it cannot see my face; it hates it and so I hide it. My hands are wounded because I hold onto heavy rain that never falls through. Who wants to see me? No one, I guess. I am just another infuriating face begging for a chance wearing tainted shades when the sun is out. I am just another someone looking for fool’s gold. I’m just another one. Who wants to see me? No one, I know. I walk into another day everyday, god willing; Everyday with no shoes to walk in, no shoes to try on.

Skies, Subways and Sketches

When the sky looks blue, look up and smile.
You can only be in one place for so long.

I feel at peace in the morning - when it’s quiet and no one’s around. The silence soothes my ears like a sunset soothes my eyes. I can imagine and craft stories without interruption because, well, you know, that’s what I always do. I like to be in tune with time, by myself. It kind of makes life a little bit easier, easy like Sunday morning that is ;). I mean, my trip is an hour each day, so that’s ample time to reflect and revise, listen and learn. What do I even say to myself? Nothing. I don’t need to. I dream it out and draw it in my psyche (if that makes even the slightest sense). When I’m in tune, everything else is tuned out – the coughs, the announcements, the loud racket of the subway, the traffic of people, the breathing, the smell of warm coffee and stink…the coughs. I’m focused on the movement. Maybe that’s what I reflect on. I listen to myself that way. I can never be too sure though, ‘cause my mind is that wild. But, I never like being in one place for an extended amount of time. I feel useless when that happens. What’s the point of taking a step if you’re not going anywhere? Things can simply be without expectations, but that can’t be stagnant…right? Whenever I do something, I want it to be a move somewhere, even if I don’t know where somewhere is or how I’m going to get there. Man, why am I even typing this? I need to get back into the groove of things…No wait, I think the grown-up in me has made its grand entrance. Yeah, I know. I said S.D.M too =).

The Sessions.

It was like a long slow drag of a shabby cancer stick. Summer, pfft. As it comes to a crummy end, a new beginning ascends from the earth – something so vile and vicious enough to swallow you whole. It’s a crook of time and an aid of monstrous madness, SNEAKING up on you when you least expect it. This phenomenon is taking its first breaths and its first sly steps towards your psychological DOOM as we have words. It’s daunting. It’s devilish. And it’dangerous.

But I’m a risk taker.

I’m awfully ready and eager to take on this draining yet career-building experience, SCHOOL. I love school, by the way. It’s back, bitches! Can you believe it? A year older, a year wiser, a year so changed I am. For once, I’m seeing myself grow and go forward, come into my being. I usually see that in other people I know very well very often; some younger, some older. But to see it in myself is mind-boggling because…well… I’m a still-standing question mark. According to me, I’ve been the same all my life: knowingly unknown. I don’t have answers. I’m an unsolved mystery, for now, searching for clues that will lead me to a solution, forever.

How do I allow folks to understand me? I should leap out of my skin sometime. Maybe then, they’ll get me. I don’t know, I’m still learning. But it’s not essentially their fault. I hide behind the shadows of laughter and long stories, by choice, mostly out of subconscious terror. I guess I just doubt people by my own design. My bad. Hopefully, university can lend a hand in my own discovery walk towards a more optimistic me and a less introverted me.

Awake & Untitled.

I woke up this morning, brainsick from last night. Or was it early morning? Four of Five? I wonder. I was so drunk on troubled thoughts, drunk beyond this earth. The time of time seemed so endless that I lost myself. I felt strange. Still do. My mind was just drifting off into all kinds of places with no direction. Did I go to Mars or Venus? While reminiscing about what I could remember, the brimming bags under my half-opened eyes start to vanish slowly - with the swipe of my hand. Nasty, but necessary. Rising from the bed, I was. The pool of dried drool and the soft sheets were left behind in no hurry. It was like separating body and soul, which is damn near impossible. No school today, for once. Nothing to do, as usual. My feet descended to the floor, sitting as still as the sleeping beauty.

I gazed outside into the young day, carefully thinking about yesterday. A slight breeze entered through the window, tickling my skin. The sky was the sea; slow drifting clouds consumed by the blues with a purple tinge. The sea was the sky; rippling in the water. The trees swayed their ripened bodies to the divine tune of the wind. Birds flew towards the light while I tried not to look. The last thing I need is burned retinas. But the first thing I need is some serenity. My head’s killing me, and certainly not softly. I still smiled to the day because I’m happy to be.

It was a busy morning. The trains blew heavy smoke and headed past GO. No collection for those drivers. Cars rolled down the streets blaring horns and engines, hoping to fly by smoothly on the highway in due time. I just hoped to get by today. The people were like silhouettes; morning marauders moving rapidly in all directions. Heels clicked and sneakers slid. My slippers tiptoed to the next room.

Lady Love.

Laying on the grass, underneath a quiet tree
Tickled like the keys of a piano
You make me laugh away my butterflies
Smile to the pretty sky.
I feel like the brightest star
Next to you, next to me
Next to nothing
Can compare to the way you look at me
I drown in your darling eyes
flooded with love
I get tangled with your fickle feet
In your arms is where I wish to stay in endlessly
Touched like a slow first kiss
You make me rise
And I fall in love with you all over
Dream of mere moments maybe to arrive
And as the night ascends, I linger on glad times
Waiting on the moment you open your eyes.

HEAVY THINGS.

Lately I’ve been thinking
Some heavy things on my mind
Every minute every hour I’m trying
To loosen up this trying bind
I can’t shake these stupid things
So close, but no cigar
I’m drunk on sleepless nights in Seattle
And I’ve never been to a bar
I’m lost in a sullen sea
With my thoughts to keep me company
But those heavy things cloud my blue skies
Knock me down senselessly
So immersed in this tale of journeys
Trips my mind has gone on
Struck by the moonlight a thousand times
That I’ve yet to see the gleaming sun
I would rather be in another place
A place where my thoughts were see-through
Yet these heavy things make that possibly impossible
Impossible to fall in love with you…

05.07.09.

I want to face you, but I can't see you.

City Lights.

Check 1,2..

The city lights are up in flames. These lush lights chase the night quietly, not a sound in sight. Not a soul in search of day. I stand unmoving, high on wakefulness and alone, existing outside time and space peacefully. The atmosphere is forever in motion. Streams of scarlet brilliance drift across the busy roads. People pace and wander around my invisible self like a gifted hand is hastily painting moving sketches. My eyes can’t keep up. Midnight blues and divine violets rove along, swiftly. Flashes here, flashes there. I stand unmoving. The city lights breathe the musty air with me and watch the sky strip down to its undressed body too. A midnight clearing arrives. Dazzling. A train passes me by, heading in the right direction.

my eyes now tell a story...

hello world.

been a minute since i've written. my exams are approaching me with lightening speed and so, i'm a little scurred. but it's cool, i'm calm, i'm relaxed. can't believe my first year of university is almost up. insanely sane. time flies with the swiftness. my dad is just as amazed as me - he was telling me that he remembers when i was this high. crazy.

anywhoos...

it's 3:10 am. and i'm studying like a fool, listening to mixing monthly homies fs green and full crate - they are sooooo dope, check them out. i was writing this thing about facebook, kinda unfinished but it was inspired by seeing someone glued to the computer that eventually turned into a joke that eventually turned into some written rhyme-like words, haha. set to dwele's im cheating, since it was playing at the time. it goes "i can't log into facebook/i don't really know what's wrong/ i've typed in my password like 8 times/ and caps lock sure ain't on..." there was more. i know this 'cause i wrote it on a napkin. and bam, it disappeared. flew away? don't know. but whatever, the rest is coming. ummm...i don't know what else to say about myself - never been good at it anyway.

my homie renzo had his b day 2 days ago - yes i remembered =). i'm late on this entry but it's ok. happy belated b-day dude. i've known him for like 5 years now and he's like a brother to me...my third brother. like a younger brother...even though he's older than me. he's such a kid at heart. i've talked to him about just about any and everything there is to talk about. we argue...and he's a stubborn punk sometimes, but i've got love in my heart for him. he's an amazing writer...actually inspired me to start a website and develop my writing - bet you didn't know that did you? *heart*. ah, so many memories. i'm not the mushy-type much, but i love you man. this one's for you. (it ain't like that, but you get what' im sayin, haha)

dueces. more writtens will follow, trust.

You on point, Tip?

Always on point.

Much love to one of my favourite artists ever, Kamaal The Abstract. Happy birthday.

Timeless music and creativity travels with you.

So true, so funky...so fresh. Legendary.

Have a good one.

Meldazy

I was on my way home one night and I saw the street sign MELDAZY...
I knew I had to write something about it, put my own meaning to that word and let it fly. So I did. Bizack. Guess who ran from the dome?

Meldaz(e)y

Bedazzle and daze
Flying, soaring away
In my mind in my eyes
The space covers the shade
Chillin under a tree
Apple falls into my hand from gravity
Solved an age old mystery,
are you hearing me skyy
Listening, open up your ears wide

I feel lazy lying on this gravy grass
With myself no one else in this sun so crass
Off-beat back-beat, bring it back no beat
Just keys just fill it in my thelonius spree
Little birds sing softly, nice tune
In the jazzy june sunny side up afternoon
Pipes so fueled, gems so jeweled
Breathing in the air, exhaling on a muse

Musical overdosin…

Endless Oceans bring a chilly breeze
Never escapes me
Cold and shivers through my body
Resting on my skin, smooth
No ends loose
Fast forward in blue
Mix it up on the moon
Fresh selecting craters from the root
Weightless, wipsy, film in the timeless bottomless boundless room

Floating in the space of my psyche
Call me mad crazy
Lazy dreaming on a Saturday 'noon
Loopy light long night miles away
I call it meldazy

it's getting late...

It’s getting late…

It’s getting late
Late...
And I have yet to see you
It’s getting late
And my heard can’t find you
My mind cannot bear
To see you not there
Beside me
Please

It’s getting late
And I’m still waiting for your call
It’s getting late
I’m going nowhere at all
But should I, should I stay here and dream
Believe in the possibilities
Or let go
Of you

It’s getting late…

It’s getting late….
The clock has stopped its ticking
The light is dim
I guess you’re just a sweet memory
Missed…

Wordless

Endless beginnings
Soundless touch explores the skin
Creations climax

…what a freak.

Happy valentine’s night.



Say Yes - Floetry

Happy Birthday, Mr. Archer.

An artist. Musician. Performer. Singer. Songwriter. Master of his craft. The definition of soul music.

D’Angelo, thank you to the highest degree. Thank you. Thank you so very much. Thank you for being patient with yourself and your music and giving me countless, classic cuts that I will never get tired of.

If there is any artist that I hold to such a high standard, that I trust with every ounce of trust I’ve got in me, that I love, that I respect…it’s Michael D’Angelo Archer. His music has had a profound impact on the way I see things, the world, and the way I listen to sound. I don’t think I would be the person I am without having found his music in 2000. Voodoo will have a special place in my heart. Always.

Hearing “Untitled” for the first time was life-altering to say the least, haha. That was the first time I was exposed to such a bass-heavy, funky, soulful tune. My ears were just full of…of wonder and excitement. I was wide-eyed with interest. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, for more than one reason. I knew…I just knew that he was someone that I wanted to musically explore. And I’ve done just that.

D’Angelo is music. Music is a part of him. It’s the way he reflects on life, the way he expresses his feelings and emotions. And I can feel it every time. With every guitar lick, every sung note, every drumbeat, every melody and soothing harmony, every sound…I feel it. Two classic albums: Brown Sugar and Voodoo. And add the many covers and rare tunes that he’s got. I still bump them all. STILL. Every single track. If that doesn’t scream “classic” to you in the midst of all these single-driven albums and 15 minute-famous-sans-the-talent artists I don’t know what does. With all the rush and the fast-paced happenings we call life, D is always able to just sit back, relax and jam. He’s one of the most patient artists I know. Despite the news Tip dropped yesterday, I’m still anxiously awaiting D’s return. I trust with all my heart that he will never try to please the fans and admirers before he himself is pleased with his work. And that’s a standard I think so many artists should have. Five years between two albums is basically unheard of now. Why? Because people believe that inspiration is something you pick of from 7/11 around the corner for $5.99 plus tax.

Today, the musical genius turns 35. And I couldn’t be happier. Happy Birthday D’Angelo. I love you.

You didn't dig my flow, but you're still welcome.

White dog barked at me the other day while I was on my way to class. I just can’t catch a break, can I…even when I’m tryna get my education lol. I’m playin’.

I feel like it’s the middle of the year already. 2009. Wow. Days are just going by so fast. I can’t even absorb the day’s events and the night’s episodes. I get taken aback by it sometimes, almost overwhelmed. Is my life really progressing like this? It’s always good to just take two steps back and really take a look at the unfinished painting that is my life. I always find something I’ve noticed.
So, I missed the big Laker/Boston game. MISSED all of it. Every last (b)ounce of it. Why? Studying. Just haaaaaaad to study. Study all the wrong material for that matter, lol. I get to my psychology exam and half the shit I studied wasn’t even on it. The fuck was that? I was just singing D’s song in my head…

Shit, damn, motherfucker

Pretty much summed up how I was feeling. Nonetheless I think I did OK. But OK in my terms is not really OK, persay, kinda, sorta. Whatevs though, because it’s only the first exam. It’s not the end of the world…or so I think. Dun Dun Dun Dun!

I’m just about restless, yet tired of this sentence structure so I’m gonna just sum everything up point form bullet bullet style.

- I missed Tip on Ellen. ELLEN! Fuuuuudge.
- Grammy’s sucked. Jazzy was robbed. Carrie Underwood was blazing. Sugarland was sick. Radiohead’s performance was wicked cool. Boyz II Men singing background pissed me off. Jamie Foxx and Neyo singing with the two four tops while Boyz II Men was in attendance pissed me off. Jazzy got robbed. Miley Cyrus should quit singing. J-Hud was amazing. Eric B and fam looked soo beautiful. Robin Thicke was THAT DUDE; his vocals are just…stunning. N.O tribute was nice. J.T. and T.I. were O.K. Swagga like us performance was just eh…M.I.A is a trooper. Jonas Brothers and Stevie Wonder collabo was not the business…And it’s MR WONDER to y’all.
- 24…still gotta watch it.
- Needa write some poems/songs/regular nonsensical stuff.
- I’m racking my brain about the guitar on Downtime remix by Foreign Exchange…I swear I’ve heard it somewhere…”Cuz I ain’t got fuck-around time…”
- I love soulbounce.com
- According to Q-tip, D’s album is coming in 2010 and a single is dropping in the fall.
- Happy B-day D’angelo =). You know a full blog entry is gonna be dedicated to him right? Lol
- I don’t get why a woman and her husband sat on opposite ends of the subway seats, holding a conversation when there were three seats beside her. SMDH. Yelling and shit like I wanted to hear all that.
- Exam this Friday my favourite number day. Excellent.
- You know, it’s really annoying to have a class full of about 25 and have about 17 of them with laptops typing EVERYTHING the prof puts up on the slides…almost in motherfuckin unison! LOL. Kinda irritating me, the notepad guru. I just kept saying WTF. I think the prof was too ‘cause she kept stopping here and there with a “holy shit” look on her face.
- Eccentricity makes the world go round.
- Ever makes jokes to yourself? Yeah, I do that too and end up smilling a little too much for my own good, haha. Just the other day I saw a girl at the subway and said to myself “she looks like Dubaku from 24” LOL.
- Facebookers need to lay off the 25 things about me shit. I remember clicking on the notes link and just seeing the ENTIRE first two pages filled with that. Some girl in my class was even doing it during lecture lmao. It’s 09. Let’s do better, haha.

Art of Fresh. Move. Get Free.

Move
Feel it.
The rhythm of the sound
Passing through your body.
Travelling infectiously,
intensely,
intently .
Caressing you.
Consuming you.
Slithering so sly outside…
Skin full of sweet melodies.

Move
Feel it.
The rhythm of the sound
Passing through your body.

Painting a picture,
alive in heavenly harmony.
Surround sound.

See.

Dance.

Sleeping on Selections.

Happy New Year - good luck with the New Year’s resolutions (that never work).

So like anywhoos, sounds and colours, I’m wide asleep, typing away, trying to figure out why in the world I am staying up for RAMMS when it won’t return the favour. Y’all know what happened last time… 100s of 1000s of lives were at stake on facebook, waiting for RAMMS to work. I was one of them, drinking that late night H20, listening to some smooth jazz while tapping my sleepy fingers to my own rhythm. It was a drag, a long, slow, drag. But it was comical sensing the frustration in the comments, the impatience in the words and the “error 502” t-shirt business suggestions flying over the screen in straight lines with every refresh button click. It was quite the early dawn.
Fast forward one semester in ‘09, and the same shit is happening. Only this time, I’m off to bed.

RAMMS Resolution for 2009: Get its shit together. (Never Never gonna happen).