But my language universal they be recitin my quotes

I think I'm far from being ill.

Not that I've lost any self-confidence lately; in fact, i think I've gained some ground. But I can plainly see areas where I need to improve. In some respects, I envision myself as having this wide-reaching sphere of influence whereby I am able to interact and inspire people of all shapes and sizes. But then conversely, I can get so humble and passive that it becomes nauseatingly unbearable to open up and talk about myself. Sometime I guess it takes some straight lightning bolt shT to open your eyes.

My moms and grandpops used to be so annoyed at me as a child because I would answer their questions with either a yes or a no. They are great storytellers. It's no secret that my moms can hold court with anyone, anywhere in the world. She's no caked up, world-reknown visionary, yet the ease with which she can talk to damn near everyone is an enviable trait to possess. She only speaks English (y un poquito of that nuyorican shT), but her demeanor is so universal that it transcends any social, economic, physical, metal, or motional barrier. When I finished my undergraduate studies, I said some corny phrase about how she inpisred me or something, but I think back and it definietly wasn't a fluke. She inspired me to aspire to gretness. Whatever that greatness may be; I always knew the world was mine for the taking because she said so.

Caught up, in conversations of our personal worth
Brought up, through endangered species status on the planet Earth
Survival tactics means, bustin gats to prove you hard
Your firearms are too short to box with God
Without faith, all of that is illusionary
Raise my son, no vindication of manhood necessary

I finally finished that Rich Dad, Poor Dad book and I'll be dmned if my mind isn't racing a hundred miles per minute trying to digest and analyze its main points in tangible tidbits that I can put to use immediately. But on a real level, the way the author used the advice from both of his pops made sense to me. For all the hardships we experienced, I hope to be a parent blending the good that I saw and learned, with an acknowledgement of the bad and how I can use it as a lesson to learn from and improve upon as I help take the midget from a boy to a man. And it's gonna be a while. He shaT (ie; shTted) on the back of his jeans tonight, but I digress.

"Give me the fortune, keep the fame," said my man Louis
I agreed, know what he mean because we live the truest lie
I asked him why we follow the law of the bluest eye
He looked at me, he thought about it
Was like, "I'm clueless, why?"
The question was rhetorical, the answer is horrible
Our morals are out of place and got our lives full of sorrow
And so tomorrow comin later than usual
Waitin' on someone to pity us
While we findin beauty in the hideous
They say money's the root of all evil but I can't tell
YouknowhatImean, pesos, francs, yens, cowrie shells, dollar bills
Or is it the mindstate that's ill?
Creating crime rates to fill the new prisons they build
Over money and religion there's more blood to spill
The wounds of slaves in cotton fields that never heal
What's the deal?
-Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Black Star, "Thieves in the Night"

I've recently been inspired. Well, it wasn't actually that recent, but my implementation of the inspiration was. I think I used to read a lot as a child. I don't really remember. But anyways, I finished that book. And as a matter of fact, I finished another one today; Who Moved My Cheese. WMMC was a short read with a very simple yet enligtening plot about the power of change. I feel all scholarly and shT. No really. I have some serious business that needs to get taken care of by the first of February. If I don't handle that shT, then I'm going to have to rethink all of this other shT. But before then, I'll reflect on the MLK event this past Saturday and leave it at this. Life is a variety of building blocks that we deal with in stages. Sometimes whispers in your ear on occasion, sometimes it pushes you around monthly, and other times, it b!tch slaps us on consecutive days like, yo son...you need to wake the fuq up. So on Saturday, I do the panel thing, which ended up being for a target audience of high schoolers. Young black males looking to us for guidance and advice. It was an equally humbling, engaging, refreshing, and helpful experience. The teens learned from the panel, the panel learned from the youth, and panelists also learned from each other. We all have something to share in the form of our view of the world. It is the sharing of that perspective that enhances other's lives. I also sat on another roundtable discussion about the state of hip-hop. I felt both simultaneously corny as hell and proud that I reited the "beauty in the hideous" line from Kweli. It was timely and emphasized my point of how much like journalism, hip-hop sensationalism is what pushes the big brother marketing push and mainstream media morale to push otherwise subpar music into the stratosphere. But his one chick claimed to love hip-hop, but seemed to side with the business and left a sour taste in lmy mouth. Let's just say she said soemthign to the tune of, "I can't go to Harlem and find Evian water. It's all fried chicken, not health/organic food." Yes dear, choke-a-b!tch tendencies awoke. Then on Sunday, I finish reading the book and took away one if its key points of letting life push you around as oposed to always fighting it. Then the Cheese book kinda gave the same idea with its notion of moving with the cheese and adapting to change. Then I thought about homegirl from the MLK event who was so rigid in her beliefs, yet stuck to her guns (no matter how absurd her viewpoints) in regards to how some people are gonna have to simply be left behind if they don't change. At this time, we were talking about people with street mentalities and behaviors, among other topics. Yet, my man Dunn and I were passionate that we can't just turn our backs on our peoples like that. And this shT is probably not making any sense right now, but fuq it. So then it had me thinking about my cousin Mike, with whom I had a phone conversation 3 days ago where he pissed me off like a mutha. Yeah that whole change thing. I thought long and hard about going to the hood to look for him, but figured I'd wait until my next NYC visit. But then I get to reading the Cheese book and I'm seeing his face as I'm reading the book about those who refused to acknowlede change and got comfortable, even if the sense of comfortableness was actually discomfort in disguise. (Damn, this shT is one long a$$ paragraph). So now I'm thinking what I need to say to him to get off my chest and get him to act. And now I've lost all connectedness of my thoughts. Ok fuq this good night.

Ok I remembered some other shT. My man Wall Street and I ended up going to Harlem to visit my homeowning uncle, a black woman-owned business up the block, and ate some good italian food before we headed back to BK to TruthKnown's crib in Crown Heights. So yes, sweetheart, there is healthy food in Harlem, as well as homeowners, entrepreneurs, and a broad cross-section of Black people defined by more than just some muthafuqing fried chicken. Shout out to my dunny Dunn for the BedStuy couch & pillow combo and DJ ROC for the usual good tunes.