Bucktown's the state of mind that I'm trapped in

Situations...got me thinking about my life seriously
Keep it real continuously
Before I slip into blackness I prepare for combat
Protect my dome cause that's where my home's at

Still thinking about Woodside from last weekend. I'm not into telling grown men what to do, but damn son....we need an intervention up in this muthafuqa. I'll make suggestions, but the onus is on you to step your shT up and come correct. Feel me? It's not like it's a life consumed with crime, but there's much room for improvement. I pray for the welfare of all (thousands) of my family, but as evidenced with 'Trina, there's mucho shit-o beyond my control-o. So I'll continue being the 'college' cat with my 'punk-ass pieces of paper' and keep pushing for a better tomorrow for me, those closest to me, and my community at large. It's the least I can contribute.

But I wrekonize that it ain't easy
So I organize with my P.N.C.
From day break to dusk dawn
I stand strong on my own two
Give praises to Jah before manuevering thru

I commented on someone's blog recently that I was glad to have lived this far beyond the age of 21. Now, I wasn't in no bang-bang extra rowdy shT coming up, but EBT cards and good guidance can both humble and propel you into a whole new strata of thinking. I remember one neighboring parent that used to crack jokes about my good grades. She was cool - a bit strung-out-ish - but still decent peoples overall. But it was as if the whole fam was in the game and her sons were destined for that life. I hope the younger one did alright for himself. Max, who was my age, got caught up. Before I left for college, I snuck off and tried to find him in the BX to no avail. I found out he had gotten locked up (@ 17) somehwere in PA. I haven't tried to locate him since. We were from the same and different worlds. It's odd how people can grow up on the same block and go on to have such divergent lives. I look at the poverty in New Orleans and see pieces of my past; the homes of family members and friends, pissy elevators, and other ceremonial attributes of the concrete jungle's abject reality. It pains me to not be able to instantly find and catch up with someone from my past. Some people prefer it that way. Maybe I'm too much a fan of nostalgia, hence my love for the real hip-hop music. But I like new shT too...as long as it's the good new shT....not that wack new shT.

In days of our lives, we try to make ends meet
to search for tommorrow got us walkin' the streets
Yo I'm not sweatin' sleep, not really stressin' beef
I'm just tryin' to live, tryin' to eat
tryin' to stay strong, tryin' not to fall
tryin' to live to see my unborn get tall
cause the streets of New York ain't just a walk in the park
you can get your life got in the day or the dark.

I went to two NYHA projects last weekend. I'm proud of the strides that I have made thus far, but there are a lot of bases still left to cover. I made a promise to get a doctorate...and as much as I loathe school...I need to go ahead and cop that shT no matter the obstacles. But with leaps come baby steps, I've doing so-so ok at reading more. I've tried keeping in touch with a few more people than usual. And there are some former friendships that I could try to broker new ground just for the hell of it. And as calm and collective as I claim to be, my soul still stirs. I like to be relaxed, but little shT can just get you all riled up. How can appear interested in your words if I am consumed with a mind running at the speed of sound in 17 directions? Hell, maybe I need an intervention. Now wouldn't that be some ironic shT?!

Footnotes:
all quotes by Tek & Steele of Smif-N-Wessun (and if you didn't know that...damn, yo)
NYHA = New York Housing Authority