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.