One of THOSE weeks.

It's gonna be one of those weeks, isn't it?  Yeah, I can feel it.  And even if it's not gonna be one of those weeks, it most definitely will be one of those Mondays. 

I could blame it on the weekend.  It was good.  Not grand,  As usual my club and I waited for the very last minute to get everything together, and we got very last minute results.  Positive results, but I'm convinced that a little preperation would make things go so much easier.  Mind you, I'm just as guilty of procrastinating as anyone.  In fact, I might be more so.  I've taken on new responsibilities in the club.  Club Services Director.  I'm the guy in charge of organizing snacks and entertainment at meetings, as well as any club socials.  It should be fun.  Should be.  But lately I can't be bothered.  Don't ask me what I'm bothered with, mind you.  I don't have an answer.  I don't even have an excuse.  I gotta shake this off.

And I gotta shake off the Mondays.  Gawd, I hate Mondays.

Why we don't hang out anymore.

Everyday I can feel the gap between myself and what was once my contemporaries growing wider, and wider, and wider.  Some of it I don't quite mind.  Some if it is based on a different level of values and morals.  I won't be talking about the high priced modifications made on my high priced car anytime soon.  I was never the guy to laugh and quip and say 'Who, her?  I fucked her last week!'  I don't really want to go through a list of 'remember that time's.  I've done that too many times already, and the only thing it does is make even more clear the bitter fact that the good ol' days are never coming back.  And speaking of the good ol' days, I think the teenage under-aged drinking year saw me using up all my 'Get drunk and weep' encounters, and should have done the same for you.  Seeing my friends get drunk and lament tearfully now is just a good way to ruin a night, and for whatever reason I hold my liquor better than all of them now.

That is not a challenge.  Those days, too, are long gone.

But there are certain things that I miss.  It's a little strange but I miss being 'The New Guy'.  There's a certain fascination that surrounds The New Guy.  He's different, a little alien, but somehow manages to be cool.  And I'm not saying that I need to be cool.  I'm twenty-six years old, I've already discovered how to concentrate my cool into physical form, like my mojo.

What I DO miss is that certain level of open minded-ness posessed by those who witness The New Guy's strange brand of cool.  To do away with the confusing allegory and get right to the heart of it: There's some shit that I want to share with you, but you're just too damn resistant.  And I guess that's just a part of growing up.  You know who you are and you are resolute in it.  There's no space in you for new ideas unless its from self discovery.  Otherwise you're still that kid saying 'Me too' after the crowd has already agreed.  I understand.  I really do.  But I miss that.  More than anything else, I miss that.

Here's an example.  Once upon a time we swam in each other's musical eclecticism to the point that we'd put our conjoined names on mix tapes and CDs.  I dn't think I'd have discovered Portishead or; being an east coast fanatic; delved so deeply into West Coast Rap if it weren't for you.  Likewise, If it weren't for me, you might all still be listening to nothing BUT west coast rap.  And we'd do this by just hanging out, just relaxing in each other's presence, letting down our defenses, and letting vibes just flow, with music in the background.  Why don't we do that anymore?  I'll tell you why, because you are resolute.  And there's some stuff I really want to open your mind to, man.  We're not eighteen anymore.  Its okay to listen to music that isn't angry or depressing.  You don't have to hate Lupe Fisaco or Talib Kwali.  Mos Def is STILL cool!  You can even listen to music that doesn't refer to sex as an act of violence. It won't make you a pussy, I promise!  In fact, it'll probably be to your benefit.  The fact that you're above the age of thirteen and still have to think of your penis as a weapon, and still think of sex as assault. is another reason why we don't hang out anymore.

Further to the point, we are in the Caribbean.  Rap, rock, and R&B are fine, but that's not really us.  Its okay to listen to Soca and Calypso.  Listening to it doesn't mean your gay.  And if you're still unsure there are some guys from germany that'll blow your mind.

Music is just one part of why we don't hang out anymore.  The rest of the list is endless.  Well, that's not true.  The rest of the list mostly goes:

• Your girlfriend is always around.  Plus, I think she's flirting with me.
• I think you're trying to kill me.
• You beat women now.  You probably did then, but I know you do now.
• You only want to hang out when YOU want to hang out. 
  
• You never want to hang out when I want to hang out.
• You expect me to be your yes-man.
• I only like you when you're drunk.
• I really don't like you when you're drunk.
• I never really liked you.
• You're always drunk.

I think that about sums it up.  I really just wanted to talk about music though.

The Road to Seaside

There are some things that catch my attention instantly.  If I were half as spontaneous as i'd like to be I'd jump on these things as soon as possible.  I'm not that.  I'm hesitant.  And hesitancy leads to further hesitancy.  Take The Seaside Institute - Escape to Create for instance.  It sounds great.  It sounds like a blast and possibly just what I'm looking for.  But then I hesitate, and instead of coming to an obstacle like normal people I go looking for one.  And they're all little things.  All 'maybe nots' and 'might not works'.

What do you suppose would happen if I took a shot?  I think I might actually explode, but then again, that's just more hesitancy.

Aside from that, I'm wasting a gift.  No, not talent, though I'm wasting that too.  I'm wasting opportunity.  July, my birth month, ought to be a month of rewards, so why not make June the month in which I'll earn it?  Yeah, that's the ticket.  This month is gonna be my personal productivity month.  Keep tuned, and I'll keep you abreast.

Heh.  Breast.

What's the last thing that made you cry?

Anis Mojgani at the National Slam 2005

What's happening

As I type this I'm riding the last of a high. It's been a crappy day without music, and up until half an hour ago I was afraid my ipod might have been lost for good. Luckily it was just under a pile of papers somewhere. As important as that is, its not what's really important right now. What's REALLY important is this: Things are happening.

My university Transcripts should have been ready by today. I say 'should have' not because I don't have faith in the University's records office (Wait...what?) but because I didn't go and check on them or pick them up today like I should have. Instead I got suckered into an uncomfortable free lunch with my coworkers, who bitched, bickered, and complained about everything from the weather (because it wasn't sunny, but it wasn't raining either. How annoying!) to the service. Like most things lately I have only myself to blame for that misfortune.

And after that continued I had to put up with calls of 'This internet is slow!' or 'I can't open yahoo, there's something wrong with our internet.' I get so tired of repeating 'It's probably not a problem with us, its probably a problem with yahoo.' and absolutely failing to convince my boss that two PCs with 'Slow internet' does not a network problem make. So tired that I don't even try anymore, and am simply oppressed by the weight and frustration of all the other times I've said it.

But again, I digress.

What's really important is, after resigning to stay back until I could figure out why my boss had 'slow internet' I was sort of forced not to. My buddy came and picked me up from work. Someone actually came looking for ME! It was Manza, for whom, as I later explained to him, I've had a bit of jealous enmity towards these past few...months. To a certain extent he has the life I want. He's officially a land owner. He has a job he loves, and a great relationship with his boss, and he's not afraid to spend money on himself for his own enjoyment. I want that so bad, and everytime he says he's going to drop by and doesn't, I imagine him in front of his widescreen TV, perfect for playing his XBOX 360, and thinking 'Meh...I'll go talk to Dre some other day'. And that's when I hate him a little more.

This time he did come around though. He heard the angst and frustration in my voice over the phone and simply said "I'm coming to pick you up." We went to Perk Up. We had pancakes. We made business plans. Real plans. Of all the things I've been truly proud of in the past year or two, Poetry Night is firmly inserted in the top five. Hell, the top three. The only reason its not number one is because I gave it away so freely. I disrespected my own creation (co-creation) by not attributing a value to it. And in doing so, I failed to see the propper scope of the thing. I think I'm ready to try again, and I won't be making that mistake again.

Things are happening. And it feels good. Maybe too good, compared to my current employment situation. I think I'd rather have rough days doing something I love, than having rough days in a work environment that begins to depress me the moment I open my eyes in the morning.

And that's another thing. If I really want change, like the purpose of this blog suggests, then I have to change my thinking first. No more of this "Wanna be writer, Obligated IT tech' shit. I have to start thinking of myself as a writer first.

I am a writer.
I am a writer.
I am a writer.
I am a writer.
This is my new mantra.

List of things done

With just a half hour left in the work day I've decided to put together a list of things I've accomplished today, and rate their actual importance to me on a scale of 1 to ten.  One being 'I actually forgot I did that for a little while there', and 10 being 'Yes!  I am a Bulwark of Productivity!'.  Okay, Here goes.

1. This morning I managed to somehow walk out of the house in the same shirt I walked out of the house in yesterday.  Importance: 1
2. Walked to work instead of hitching a ride or calling a cab.  Importance: 5.  I'm pretty sure this is what has me losing so much weight.  This, or a tapeworm.
3. Arrived at work late.  Set up projector in conference room for brief meeting, cleared my desk, and did some quick computer majick before anyone really noticed.  Importance: 4.  Okay, 5 I guess.  Keeping up this ruse is what's keeping me employed at this point.
4. Completely failed at math.  I was explaining to the nice lady who's doing I don't know what with us here, that the 24 computers were all doing eleven years worth of climate modelling, spanning from 1960 to 2100.  She asked me what the other ten were doing, and I went 'Duhhhhh"  Yes, its 14 decades between 1960 and 2100.  What are the others doing?  Uhm...Maybe its up to 2200?  Importance: 4 (A complete stranger thinks your an idiot.  Go cry, Emo kid.)
5. Had lunch on the company tab, through a fuck-up that wasn't mine (for once!).  Importance: 3
6. FAILED to pick up my transcripts because I was busy having lunch on the company tab.  Importance: 8.  (WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!)
7. Blanked out at my desk for two hours.  Importance: 1.

Blanking out is weird.  Its like my brain's way of saying 'You obviously don't need me right now, so I'm gonna go take a nap.'  And it happens...a lot.

What's stopping me?

Its right there.  Its all right there in front of me.  I have two envelopes on my desk.  In those envelopes are four other envelopes, along with a letter thanking the reader for agreeing to write my reccomendation letters for college applications, and requesting they make four copies and seal them in the included envelopes.  I've thought of just about everything.  I'm prepared.  There would be three envelopes on my desk but the third one is in my messenger bag, ready to be delivered.  But it hasn't been, actually.  None of them have been delievered.  The dates on them are two weeks old.

What's wrong with me?  Why do i hesitate with these things?  Why do I tell myself that its what I want so badly, and then do nothing to bring them about?  Why am I so intent on destroying myself?

And then there's just the fact that there's SO much to do, and only one me to do them.  But I can't help but think that I only use this as an excuse really.  Who else would do them anyway?  I guess I have to suck it up, but doing these things without help feels hopeless.  Like I'm doomed without someone else input.  Maybe its a self confidence thing.  maybe its reality.  Maybe I'm just afraid of my own success, and I trick myself into thinking I'm really just afraid of failure.  I wish someone could help me sort this out. 

I wish I was strong enough to sort it out myself.