polyphony.

. . .

well alright.

i've come to the most unfortunate conclusion that my father is truly my worst enemy. he has the fucking nerve to wonder why my brother is hell bent on pulling up the stakes and moving on. are you serious, dude? really? i used to worry about talking about the shit he does for fear of unfairly demonizing him, but it's not really my fault if his own actions paint his character red. i swear that i'll only convey truth.

so fuck it.

dude is trying to thwart my shit yo. that's like his lot in life; throw a halt at anything i'm interested in. but dig this, i can't be fucking stopped. why the fuck you gotta keep a hand in everything i do? we both some trying black men, with things to do, a lil dream here and there, and responsibilities to have at. i'm not a little child anymore. i'm sayin, just because i'm trying to accomplish things you wouldn't necessarily do, don't mean i'm not about it.

i dunno. but he's trying to avert. and it's not gonna happen.

lol.. i need a better job. i have to get out of here. fuck it, if i have to get a roommate and exit stage left, i'm doing so. i'm not being prissy about this anymore, i don't have the time or energy to split my attention 1,732 different ways, school/work/music/writing/father/father/father/dad/father/father/women/father/etc. nah mean. i ain't even about that, because it's fucking ridiculous. i can't change him, can't get him out my pocket while i'm here, but can damn sure get a new pair of pants. he ain't fuckin with those pockets. damn that.
___

these people at the library are like vultures for comps yo. niggas bout fight over a damn pc. *sigh*
___

saw my cousin today, she's in temple, doing her thing. (props to benjie)
she's going into journalism next year. i'm seriously thinking about journalism/photojournalism. i wanna improve on my writing ability, but i wanna be involved in art.

*shrug*

i'll figure it out.

right now tho, gotta get the fuck out of this hell hole.

and thus it begins.

so, i start this job today. 12-5, which isn't bad at all... i'm loathing the possibility of weekend work, but you know, i'm grinning and bearing it. sucking it up, as they say. it's money right now, and that's something i need desperately.

please lord, instill within me the strength to be to work when i don't want to, to sell products and gain commission, cuz base pay ain't nothin...

lol. seriously. this will help pay for school, make me mobile once again. that's it. still looking for other, more lucrative gigs, but this is nice. the people seemed nice enough, so i can't hate that. the most important thing i have to remember is that i have a plethora of purposes, and that this is a means to a much greater end.

gotta continue to make progress in other areas of my life. like, making these beats and writing these rhymes. gotta murder school. gotta get my overall weight up, nah mean.

speaking of beats, i'm getting better at this. right now it's just a 32 bar loop, but lemme figure out how to make this ish a complete song... man. i really need to have more faith in myself. if it's something i like to do, i always figure the shit out. i'm dumb that way. won't give myself the credit of being at least relatively capable.

but i'm gonna learn this shit like my neighborhood.

*smiles*

payce.

argh

im trying to decide which part of me has the louder voice. do i want to engage in coital activities more than i want a solid relationship? i think that i'm playing the fence, but leaning heavily towards just having a mutually beneficial bond with some one of the opposite sex.

i dunno.

it doesn't necessarily have to be labeled. i just really need someone to hold sometimes. someone to tell my fucking problems. go see a movie with. somebodysomebodysomebody etcetera.

and i have no concept of what's good for me. what i'm capable of. i know what i want, but i don't know if it's what i need, or whether it really needs me. i do know, and am positive of the fact that i spend entirely too much time contemplating things of this nature.

i'm just wondering what will happen when i start school in january, at community college of philadelphia, the jawn capital of the south eastern pennsylvania. should be interesting. gonna have to try hard to concentrate.

a good friend of the family died this morning. it's really terrible... he was in a long waiting line for a heart, and basically knew that he wasn't going to get one, but he stuck around longer than anyone had expected. he was the EXACT same age as my mom. 5/9/52. just turned 50.

it really sucks for his wife, though. and his daughter. a few years ago, their oldest son was killed in a car accident that not only took his life (he was 18) but broke the neck of his passenger, and killed about 4 little kids that he hit. it was a sick scene. he was drunk, speeding down 66th avenue, and was going so fast that the car took off and flew into a house, killing some kids playing outside.

SAD.

then, about 4 years later, her other son was shot to death in a west philly corner store. apparently, dude knew he was going to get killed, and just didn't really give a fuck. he hadn't dealt well with his brother's death, and was basically fucked up since. he stayed in trouble, selling his little weed here and there, hung around the wrong people, got a situation going where he was going to be in a gunfight, and took a few bullets to his head.

fuckin insane man.

i was cool with these cats; they were my boys, you know? always peace when we talked. it was like a bad dream when steve (2nd brother) got shot. i was like, are you sure you don't mean tim? you're late. tim died a few years ago. but naw, it was steve, it was on the news, and i was so scared man.. iit's like, the fuck is that like? having a death wish that comes true?! i kept seeing myself facing somebody down, and them shooting my ass dead.

now ms. becky has a daughter as her immediate family. how do you not give up in that situation?

i feel for her so deeply.

*Sigh*

gotta see her soon...


um... people under the stairs' "We'll Be There" is an incredible song. i can count on them for about 4 to 6 dope beats per album. that ain't bad for some consistency. props to them.

think i'm gonna get at making beats again myself.

peace.

dude, would you just focus? please

yeah, seriously.

like i said, i'm getting ready to head back to school. what can i say, i have a penchant for anachronism. it's in the blood. january cuz. and i'm doing everything i have to to get my ass back where it needs to be.

this is going to be a period of reformation for me. fuck this silly shit i've been perpetuating. like, this whole year has been really unimaginably godawful. so i'ma make changes where i can. i rapped with this 16y/o from Sudan yesterday.. she's going thru the same shit i was when i was 16, only she's intelligent enough to want to do something about it now.

i gave her the fucking spiel of her life, yo. word. because that's serious business. in all it's rudiments, it's essentially the same speech i gave my sister over the summer. these kids in high school have to get commited now to doing shit for themselves, because life is a bitch post secondary. believe me. people start looking at you like a responsible person, they wanna charge you for fucking breathing, your parents start acting like they forgot about you, and if you haven't made inroads to get up on the good foot, hell, you'll be stuck in years of lame dumbshit. believe me, i know.

*i* KNOW.

i told her that. i hope she took it to heart, because if you work hard enough, your 20s can be the best time of your life. i still have somewhat of an opportunity to enjoy this shit. i'm goinig to try my best to.

*sigh*

lol.. i made my first beat last nite. it was really really bad, but the sample i'm using, (sAk, holla if you hear me) is dope on so many levels. shouts out to kenny gamble and leon huff, philly international rekkids and the whole iiladelph massive.

we doin this.

i took apart my first drum sample too. i can't remember exactly what it was from, i think it was a bernard purdie joint ( i like his shit better than idris muhammads')...

yeah. it was purdie. a joint he did with shirley scott. dope. stretched out the waveform in some audio editing program i grabbed from cnet.com, to where i could see the exact point of attack and decay of each drum sound, saved em seperately as .wavs and threw em in fruityloops.

SO much better than those shitty native samples, people. y'all ain't hearing me.

so, i'm thinking my dopeness is a given. *shrug* confidence and shit. gimme a month of putting in work on this bitch. it's over.

oh yeah, and jaco pastorius is the truth. my god.

hmmm. women still crack me up. y'all dope as shit, but y'all crack me the fuck up.

i need a website. i need my own line. i need a car. i need some money.

all in due time, though. right now, it's beats, rhymes, and everyday life.

got an interview today, and of all the wonderful employers who took the time out to actually call me back, this particular one is sounding the most promising.

here's to hope.

chea.

no more bullshit? i thinks not. let's make it happen.

ALRIGHT!

back in business.

delays due to various shit, ranging from blogger dot com being down when i tried to update, all the way to me not feeling inspired to drop anything in this bitch.

mostly tho, it's been a few semi-traumatic experiences.

1) my brother was on fire. he needs plastic surgery.

2) my dad incapacitating himself at work. this one wasn't TOO bad, but seeing what's usually a pillar of strength be reduced to a feeble bedbound, it's enough to make a grown man cry.

i ain't cry though, but you feel me. like braille and shit.

shit was nuts, especially the distance between each occurence. bro was tuesday, pops was thursday, recuperative efforts proceeding promptly.

yeah, household solidarity and shit. my sister is being nice (o!m!g!) and all that, i can't be too mad at my bro 'cause his situation is an ill one. all in all, the state of affairs is displayin some fine grace under relative fire, and i can't be mad at that.

what else?

oh yeah, FINALLY figuring out fruityloops. a little. i just grabbed a whole bunch of ahmad jamal shit...

yo...


this cat has THE best piano riffs. period. i think it's way he plays; he incorporates silent, dead space and timing into his pieces... ill simplicity, but still funky in its own way.
i'm diggin for as much shit as possible by him.

now i gotta start grabbing drums. once i start figuring out how to do this right, it's over.

oh yeah, i've decided to go back to school. ...stop laughing, i'm serious.

...i'm SERIOUS!

nah, but i really have decided to go back. pursue some enjoyable stuff. graphic design with the photography option, something. haven't fully decided yet, but i need a hustle outside of bustin raps and makin beats. in case the needle don't drop © sak.

i'm figurin it will, but still.

it's funny tho, how you'll be type frustrated with somethin you're pourin your existence into, until you see the slightest bit of light at the other end of the tunnel. it makes the shit behind you worth the energy expended, and makes gearing up for more of the same that much more plausible.

since soulseek has been my best friend for a minute, i'm starting to really need one of these.



bad. i'm clipping 1000 mp3s, and about 800-900 of them aren't full albums, plus about 700-800 of them i'd like to be moving with me when i'm out and about. word on the street is that it can double as storage.

hmm... how nice for my dig. camera. yes!

that's it.

peace.

W O W

alot to speak on...

so like, 1st.

i go on another interview, this one sounds relatively positive. so i'm like, yeah, i got a job and shit. nice. lady is talking about how she's gonna speak to my references on my resume, and she'll get back to me...

that was tuesday.

this is now.

haven't heard high nor hair from these motherfuckers. i fucking swear, dude. fuck what you heard, dave is putting in WORK. this year's decay has been nothing short of incredible.

and then like, my brother is moving out. that's my sanity in this house man.


i can't tell, though, whether i'm jealous, or worried, or just unnerved by everybody else in the house's response to the news, whether i'm afraid of new shit and therefore don't want him to leave, or maybe a combination of any of the aforementioned. whatever it is, since last night, i've been feeling like shit. he leaves soon, i imagine. like a few days. i guess it's just because it's new, the whole "family member leaving" thing.

it's whatever. it's just fucked that he's taking the triton with him. and all his records. BLAH. *demo floats away a lil*

and then how about the fucking weather. what's the deal? i mean, the calendar says october, but SO? i don't do well on gray days, and it's been this way for about a week.

then like, i feel like my writing sucks ass. i haven't wanted to write anything but rhymes these days, and they all seem to suck after i spit them a few times. i need lots of work, i think. *demo drifts away further*

wale copped a deal and i am fucking proud of dude. his shit is nice, too. i'd like to work with him someday.

i hate feeling useless and trapped.

i am so tired.


i stayed up last night, cleaning my room and talking to myself. i think i finally hit the bed around 3:45am. i would like to take a nap RIGHT NOW, but i'm forcing myself to stay awake, so when i do finally go to bed, i'll be tired enough to get my needed sleep at a normal time. the bore factor of my life isn't helping my cause any- my body is like "yo, you assmunch, let me sleep!".

in due time, little one.

see, i'm on a mission to regain control of my life, taking whatever small steps are available, until i've made progress. still in that underdog phase, but it's not just about feeling bad for myself; it's also making concerted effort to change shit. it feels good.

i haven't been in contact with folk much... i kind of feel bad about that. i guess i've become a bit disenchanted with my relationships with people at the moment. i hope i don't sound like a fucking head case... it's just that, sometimes, you get a 1-2-3 punch of shit that affects you negatively, and you just need to pull away from it all. but i'd rather change things, get proactive about myself, than sit there and revel in my assumed misfortune. my work ethic is already improving.

_________


just ate dinner. needed that.


i'm going to see if i can figure out acid pro. be back later.

It's Critical.

or, at least i'm making it that way.

this may have spawned from the current mood climate i'm basking in, in some weird way- but yo.

i have to do this.

a friend of mine told me today that i should meet a music professor that teaches at her school. he said that he didn't want to get old- because he wants to live long enough to hear what black people do next, musically speaking.

that's so real.

i mean, that's love, you know? that's the kind of love i posess for sound. that's where i find release. i really don't know how to put it in words right now... maybe after the first lp drops, i'll be over it somewhat. right now, though- i feel almost indebted to getting this shit in gear.

*sigh*

i'm at a loss for proper articulation of these feelings, but i think you get the point. in some non-detrimental form, i will be devoted to it. comprehensive proofs are in the wings.
i just wish i had been forcefed music as a little guy, even if i didn't want it... i'd be so much further ahead than i am now- i feel like i'm floundering, wandering around aimlessly with fingerless hands.

ah well. just gotta find some fingers somewhere.

on to other things-

i feel really touchy-feely-huggy-luvvyduvvy-cuddly today. i don't know why. i can honestly say that the only thing worse than being sexually frustrated is actively repressing the shit. it's like trying to dam up the atlantic ocean. it's too deep and too wide. the spillage is tremendous and potentially dangerous.

argh.

i'm trying, though. i think, what i really need is a girlfriend. but i can't even be sure that i could handle one at this point, or perhaps more importantly, whether anyone could handle me. if they'd even want to. i'm a struggling artist with an indeterminable craft... lol.

...get the fuck out of here.

i swear... i'm going to kick my ass, and everything it's involved in, and i'll make an assesment of it all @ the top of the year.

recognize the underdogs.

how about a real entry?

chea.

let's see... what's new with me.

we'll, i've been in this somber/melancholy/thoughtful/creatively ripe mode for the past week or so... although it's been somewhat sad, i seem to be a bit more about myself. doing things on my agenda, or at least trying to. it's not all bad. it's like-

you ever have that feeling that in every part of your life, you are a 100 point underdog, but you know that you can and will upset the world? so, you're like, brooding and biding your time and biting your tongue and gritting and grinding your teeth and swallowing your pride and priding yourself on your patience and persistence because it seems like the quantity and quality of the odds that befall you are tremendous and you just can't fucking wait to slap a fucking dent in the atmosphere the size and shape of the outline of your lifeless body.

i don't know why i feel like that. i've always felt like that, but it seems to be incredibly strong. maybe i get the feeling that people just don't believe me; maybe it's that i don't believe myself when i say that i'm going to do this...

whoatthatsascaryconceptidontwanttothinkaboutitanymore.

ANYway.
i feel powerful like rocky before he fucking molliwopped apollo creed. (where's my m'fuckin' adrienne? blah.)

...i like the way i dress.

never change it for nobody.

yet- today, i was forced to think on how i would catch drama and heat for that from the h8rz, should i ever have the opportunity to dance in the public's eye...

somebody called me a faggot.

some cat was in the passenger seat of his friend's late model fucking lumina, looked at me as i waited for them to pass, and yelled out the window "FAGgot"

...ha...

wtf?

folks in the know, know that i'm hardly the person to affix that shit to... but still.


i mean, initially i was hurt. cause, i mean, that's some hurtful shit, that was it's intent, obviously. felt like fucking his girl's mouth, and then giving him a half brother, too, you know, to dispel any rumors and questions. but, i thought about it more as i started home, and i wanted to just ask him why he felt that way. my cousin always asks me why my clothes fit like they do, my grandmom asked me if i'm into music and poetry, i mean...

look. i live in a city where the vast majority of trend-following teen and twenty something males (femmes too, but for this discussion i'll ignore the flowered flip flops and flare legged jeans, with those fucking asinine gypsy blouses) can't motherfucking dress, but the catch is, they

1)think they know how to

2)expect everyone in that age/sex group to look that way

3)don't know marc jacobs from mark hamill, and don't care to.

(no, i wasn't wearing marc jacobs, but i'm sure the import is recieved.)

also, with that, they expect the only men that know how to dress to be homosexual, or whatever, and that's fucked up, but it's true.

i put myself in his shoes, and i realized that i may have thought the same thing myself, had i been a dumbassed neanderthal-ish product of a fucked up stasis lusting enviroment, instead of myself.

so, i in some sick way understand where duke was coming from.

and with that being said, it leads me to wonder how much shit i'll catch for looking that way in front of L O T S of people. look at q-tip, he went from hippie to gay, never just looking like jonathan davis, for what, 13 years? shit, with the release of Amplified, niggas wrote him off as THE gay rapper.

that's crazy, and it's something i'd maybe have to deal with. i can't imagine having that rumor hover over me like a sickening black cloud.

sucks, but that's reality for you. to the dude in the passenger seat of the lumina...

betcha the farm i can take your girl, Bitch. promise you that.

lol

what else?

i've been getting at the triton le with regularity these days, now that sampling is in full effect. i was in record exchange today, bought this dave brubeck lp with cal tjader on drums and vibes, man, that shit's good for about 3 album's worth of piano riffs alone- but then i complimented it with 2 erroll garner joints, some art tatum... i'm going to dig for breaks tomorrow, see what i can come up with. there's an old eddie bo record with a break- 's called hook and sling... my dad has the 7" single. i'm trying to figure out how i can flip that.

been writing alot of introspective shit, trying to keep the pen moving, regardless of how much i'd just like to go to sleep or something.

been downloading shit like crazy. yo, soulseek is the truth. ON MY MAMA (c) dmx.

which is the perfect segue into my next short discussion.

VIKTER FUCKING DUPLAIX IS THE TRUTH.

seriously. everyone's got to hear morena.

i'm sitting here at this moment listening to "i'll do it for you" by king britt. (vik sang on it/perhaps had a hand in producing it)

his ear for melodies/chord arrangements are impeccable as all hell, and he knows how to interweave his voice through the instruments, knows how to do his vocals up right... jeezis, morena is genius. i've been on a hunt for anything he's touched. i'm proud to say dude is from philly. nobody out the touch of jazz camp is fucking with him, no vidal and his little team, NObody. vikter is fucking nuts. damn.

i haven't respected a musician's work and style this way since mos def. niggas KNOW how i feel about mos.

*for those that will click, scroll around, it's in there somewhere.*

yeah, vik is nice with his. don't sleep.

um...

w o m e n & l o v e & r e l a t i o n s h i p s & s e x & m e . . . *looking confused and defeated* i think i'm giving up for now.

that's all i'll say about that.

so like, enough with the flirting. some folks i just can't help to, but i'm going to work my hardest to cut that shit out, i've dealt with enough dead ends and surprise boyfriends/ex's and miscommunications for now... i'm going to concentrate on supporting myself, breathing easy and working hard. getting this music shit up to fucking par.

chea.

Peas McFly.