we're in this together.

until the lights go out.

giving up your seat.

Judgment is mine said the lord. For a long time, I didn't think that was true. Judgment was my right. If people did shit I thought was dumb, then i'm putting a dunce cap on the toliet. I wasn't just checking for stupid shit though. It could just be things that I wouldn't do myself, I jammed on it, and treated my opinion as truth.

It's tiresome and time consuming being that way. 

People start off at different places, on different levels, with different family, friends, neighborhoods.

Different contexts.

All with the innate desire to figure out the way to belonging and peace of mind with no map. Taking a test where the answers could be everything. The shit is confusing to everyone who picks up the paper, and your handed one at birth. Even the most enlightened do not have the answer key. 

No one knows the complete context of lives of everyone they meet. Judgment blinds us from seeing that. Or remembering that.

To understand that about those around us, is in part, is what allows us to keep our humanity.

We often judge those who think and live differently that us. Having people around you who are ten toes deep in a lifestyle and mindset that you can't fade will have you more fucked up and down bad than a love affair with dope. Spending a lot of time passing judgment on them will do the same. It makes for certain that you will slowly, but surely, be stripped away from all that separates you from the animals.

Expose yourself to the world. Try vigorously to understand people outside of your circle, talk and learn from everything you do. If you disagree with what you find, then do so, but don't get caught up in easy trap of wandering the wilds of judgment, damning all those you encounter. Realize that that world isn't home and never will be.

princess leia.

I think my littlest heart finally loves me.

I have a niece who is ten and about 9 months ago, my sister had another child who for at least 7 months of her life didn't not trust that new nigga over there, that nigga being me. She just wasn't having it. Kept two eyes on me as soon as she figured out how to move those eyes in unison. Drinking a bottle, eyes on me. Getting that ass changed, eyes on me. And her face gave me no comfort, no real recognition of our relationship. Just filled with infantile wariness.

See, i've been down this uncle road before, but it was different with lauryn. Lauryn's pops wasn't around, so my pops and I filled the void. I held her fresh out of my sister, when she still had primordial fur and what looked like crisco packed in her crevices. I was there for everything, first words, first steps. My first and only song, I sung to her to put her to sleep. When I went on field trips, I saw my little heart explain to her classmates that I wasn't her dad, but I was her uncle, and how that was even better than being her dad because "uncles are cool." Walks home from school, impromptu trips to the playground. Sneaking her ice cream and curse words...man.

But now, my sister has a husband, and leia has a father. It's different. I'm not the first man in her life, her pops is. And a good father and husband he is indeed. I don't see her nearly as much as Lauryn because she doesn't live with me. Because of those facts, to leia, I was just a strange voice without the light coos and goo-goo's of her mother, grandmother and sister. I wasn't there when she woke up, didn't put her to sleep. My voice wasn't one of the voices she would use when constructing the foundations of her speech.

I wasn't her pops. And I know that's how it's supposed to be.

One day last month, I was at my mom's house, and both my niece's were there. Leia was in her carseat, and even though I wanted to pick her up, I didn't. My past experiences with holding her hadn't been good at all, batting 1.000 for tears everytime. I went to wipe her mouth, and she started to sing. I wrapped my finger up in a blanket, and started to cover and uncover her mouth. turning her voice into a staccato sound. She loved it. We made music for about a half and hour, and at the end, she looked and me and smiled. Eye shining, telling the tale that the mouth is unable to do alone. My littlest heart loves me. Ha.

God knows. That smile helped me through the week. I thought about it every night at work, and hoped that I would see it again soon.

Now, we're good. I'm money around 8-12 months, cause then I can do what I'm good at from here on out. Helping her walk, spinning and tossing her gently all around, coming up with games that aren't games at all. Then it's toys, contraband and secret handshakes. Nicknames and sock fights. Homework and plays. I see that smile often, and thank god that i'm able to. I'm not daddy, nor do i need to be, because she found room for me.

(the problem with being the uncle who plays is that when the playing stops, shit gets a little shaky, you dig? but i'm learning to dig deep for an extra ten-minutes, and make the smooth transition into staring out the window, which my back is always grateful for)

reggie!

when barack obama won, i was happy, but not like everyone else was happy. i mean people, young people were crying, flipping out. it was like whenever i saw a video of michael jackson going overseas...people would be having seizures damn near. my phone wouldn't stop going off with a variety of text messages, i heard from people i hadn't heard from in a minute. I couldn't stop thinking about why i wasn't feeling like the rest of the world around me was apparently feeling.

and it wasn't the reaction of the old that made me take a look at myself. i can understand why they were so happy. my momma remembers a time when racism wasn't hidden, wasn't just instutionized, it was an institution. jesse jackson shedding tears, i can dig it. but it was the reaction of the young people that did it. snot bubble tears from the young had me thinking hard man.

at first i blamed it on me being an asshole. yeah, i don't like most shit. 90% of the time i have a good reason. that other 10, could be anything. i'll jam on it just because. i didn't dislike barack at first, but i didn't hear him saying anything new. but the more i listened, the more i heard things that were hella different. like true change, breaking down bullshit barriers that have seperated us, riding in the struggle together. i'm all for that. i rooted for dude. so i couldn't chalk it up to the asshole.

i think now its because he took a shot, and me and my homeboys haven't yet put one up yet. when i thought of him, all i could think of is us, both here and gone (god rest your souls chris and ty), and how we haven't really heaved one yet.

outside looking in, people would say we're making progress. we're good black men, educated, employed, all that shit.

outside looking in, we are all upstanding dudes that are going places.

outside looking in, aint nobody asking about those places that we're going to. and if we want to go there. i don't, and haven't wanted to for awhile now. i peeked at the end of that book. 100g's a year if i'm lucky, benefits and retirement at 65. dying old and stressed out, hoping i was a good enough father and husband, cousin, brother and friend. hoping that i lived, hoping i gave back enough, that i took enough.

it's a suckass ending. so fuck that ending, two times.

haven't really tried to get free, not be employee's, tell the world how we feel. open up a restaurant. put out music. write screenplays. do movies. things that are in us to do. we've all tried various things, but not with vigor. the good thing is that we have begun to do what we should have been doing along. started this summer. just gotta keep rolling until the rave is over.

gotta keep shooting till the target falls, the rim bends and the veins close.