Rearview

I never thought it would be that simple. There was a time when the thought was too much to bear, let alone the sight.

Time really does find a way to heal all wounds. Just like that, the visual was there, directly in front of me.

No spazzing out, no feelings rushing to the surface, nothing that made me wish time would slow down.

It came and went. And just like that, it was done.

Finally. In my rearview.

On January 9th at approximately 9 P.M., a solid, sturdy figure, a visual I once knew, slowly faded away...became a blip on the road.

Gone for good.

1/16/16 @ 9:56 P.M.

Cigar and Tonic

It's been quite a while since I lit you up; so long that I fumbled just looking for the right place to start. Despite the time in between encounters, it didn't take long to feel like we'd even been apart. Even with that, there was no rush to inhale it all at once; no, it was better to take it all in, one drag at a time. We completely went with the flow, with everything certainly more than fine.

A cutter, lighter, and an ashtray on one end. A pair of keys, bag, and a small, slight glass on the other. The scent of smoke and tonic permeated the air with various sounds and acts serving as an adequate supporting cast. There was constant laughter, steady questioning, and a few stares to make the proceedings last.

But it had to end. Remember, it had been quite a while, and when that's the case, it's best to be cool and steady, enjoy the scene while not being in a rush. A single shot glass and half-smoked cigar remain, and will continue to stay untouched...

...until we meet again.

1/8/16 @ 8:54 P.M.

Inspiration, Words and Unsung Heroes

One of the most beautiful things about writing is inspiration can come from just about anything. Ever since I fell in love with writing as a kid, the slightest details, the most minute, find ways to inspire me to write something about them.

It can be a sentence, or two, a paragraph or a few, it doesn't matter. When it hits, the words just come out. Whether the writing is any good or not is secondary. As long as it's from the heart and soul, you're straight.

Inspiration can come from people, and there are times when I will draw on people in my life and write about them. It can be a personality trait about them that they barely think about, but that person fascinates the shit outta me, which means that trait will do the same. The fascination can be in a brief moment, or long-lasting, but if it's there, and there's a piece of paper and a pen around, Imma get what I need to say out of my soul.

It can throw people for a loop when a question goes outta nowhere and I get it. However, the one thing I've noticed is the people I know who have an appreciation for words, who love them and are fascinated by the way they can be used for interpretation, are the ones who get it...truly get it. There are no ulterior motives outside of wanting to get something out in the universe for whoever's eyes they manage to cross, and when a source of inspiration is used to get to that point, it's not so much the words that should get all of the praise; moreso, it's the source of them, the source a writer draws from. In a way, they're the unsung heroes in any tale that's worth being told.

3/12/14 @ 8:08 P.M.

Favorite Song

Plenty of folks have "that" song. The one that triggers a load of feelings, a ton of emotions, a variety of thoughts. It doesn't necessary have to be the ABSOLUTE favorite, because narrowing them all down and picking one can be quite the task. With that said, let's not get it twisted, especially when the notes drop and once they do, it's virtually impossible to conceal your reactions with any kind of mask.

How is it that a single song has that effect? What other instrument of communication can make us feel as vulnerable as when one of your favorite jams comes through your speakers? One of your favorite songs can instantly turn a good day into a great one, a sad day into a better one. It turns an insignificant moment into a trip back in time. Songs that leave a lasting impression do just that and even more. They make us feel something that we've rarely, if ever, felt before.

The sounds, so raw, passionate and real. The notes...so pure and romantic that you have no choice but to open yourself up and feel...it's a must. You have to. When it comes on, there is no playing it cool, and at that point, there's only one thing left to do.

3/11/14 @ 9:26 P.M.

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The Country Life

The country has slowed things down.

It's been over two years since I made a move from The City to The Country, and it literally has an effect on just about everything I do. I wake up early and go to sleep early. The days of staying up past 2 AM every night are looooong gone. My social life is pretty much non-existent these days. Back home, I could go out just about every night, simply because there was always something to do. It doesn't mean I would turn up every night, but it means the opportunities were there to turn up every night. The scenery was...it was plentiful...in abundance. It was paradise!

Here? Shiiiiiit, turning up is going to Raising Cane's since they don't close til 11 during the week (or maybe 12. I don't remember.) This place woulda been heaven for me in my undergrad days, because I would just hang out with my peers who went to the colleges in town. Now though? In my early-30s? Nah, cuh. All it has done is make me old and cranky.

But even with my social life going to hell in a hand basket, the peace and quiet is cool and a nice change of pace...gotta admit that. It isn't the worst thing in the world and pretty much ensures that if I have goals I want to accomplish, there's no reason to not get to them now, because there's nothing remotely serving as a distraction here.

The consistent happenings now are waking up at 5 AM, Monday-Friday, to go workout in the gym, going to work right after that and finishing my doctorate, and as much as I bitch about my surroundings due to the lack of...well, anything that resembles fun for a brother like myself, this is right where I need to be. On weekends, I hit the park down the road and run a few miles and there are always people out enjoying the scenery. Whether it's a family of four, or a young couple jogging together, or an elderly couple taking a stroll, it's cool. There's always someone running like I am and we'll give each other a high-five as we pass each other on the trail and motivate each other to keep going. That stuff I truly enjoy and don't take for granted at all.

2/24/14 @ 9:14 P.M.

Duped.

It's hard to feel like you've been had. Tricked. Duped. Bamboozled. Led astray....

...when you see it coming.

Besides, when you don't bring something concrete to the table, and someone else does, regardless of how what the other person is bringing, it's still "something," and for some people, that's better than nothing.

Maybe that's why it's easier, instead of looking straight ahead, to look away.

7/28/13 @ 12:33 P.M.

Photo courtesy of Hybrid Lava.

Don't Bring Me Flowers After I'm Dead

We have to get to appreciating each other as friends, family and loved ones more while we're here and able.

If we're too busy to pick up a phone to say hello, or reply to a text, an e-mail or simply exchange cordial pleasantries, then there's no point in doing it once it's too late. I don't want to keep learning that the hard way. Not anymore.

We're all on borrowed time. With mine, I plan on using it to let as many people who I love and care about know just that.

6/26/13 @ 9:52 P.M.

P.S. Flowers simply made sense for the title. I'll take shoes. LeBrons, preferably.

The One Who Got Away

Everyone's time is up at one point or another, and we rarely know when it is. It can be long and drawn-out, or deathly swift and quick. It can flow smoothly without leaving a trace or be pretty vivid and pretty much stick. Regardless of how it goes, it's sure to happen someday, which makes it extremely humbling when you think about the one who got away.

The one who got away happened so quick, so sudden. Here today, gone tomorrow type of thing. One minute, it was all good, and the next...gone. The times spent together were genuine, with memories made even though the amount of time spent itself wasn't traditionally long. Some months here and there and even in that moment it was clear to say there was never one like you before or since, and it served as proof that you were the one who got away.

Mutual respect turned to appreciation, appreciation to admiration, admiration damn near into infatuation. It can be at the end of the night or first thing in the morning, and regardless of the time, there's no doubt that the thought crosses of the one who got away.

It's almost like chasing a ghost. That person is gone, whether it's in the literal sense or simply from your life. Sure, there may be sporadic communication here and there. It goes back to the whole "mutual respect thing." The interaction and times you shared together are no more, boxed and locked up, only with memories of previous times and a former day. And even when you've long moved on to a different place with new faces, you always remember the one who got away.

This began with the acknowledgment of knowing we all have to go. Thinking about it can be overwhelming, even scary, yet somewhat peaceful. Who knows what lies on the other side? When that time comes, it'll be a point to seek out folks who left this place and we'll probably have a whole lot to say...but even when my time is up and I'm gone from this place, there will always be a spot in my heart for the one who got away.

6/24/13 @ 8:51 P.M.

C.C.I.C.A.

Another long night on deck, and even though these seem normal, it can still make me feel like a complete and total wreck.

Some are accidents, where it's not about getting upset at a person, but more so the situation...the factors at hand. When that's the case, getting angry does no good, so my disposition has to stay cool, the fire in me has to be fanned.

That's what accidents are all about. There's no one to blame. But what if it isn't an accident. Just carelessness with no regard to how one's actions can have an effect on another being. Can a person be so caught up in the moment that they disregard the pain that they're seeing? Maybe it is, especially when a motto is to look out for number one...and if that means someone gets hurt or insulted along the way, well, they can just get on with their day and fun.

Common courtesy is becoming a lost art, a thing of the past...almost like seeing a unicorn or hearing a record on a record player play in its own distinct sound. As if you go ahead and show it to someone, they acknowledge it briefly, yet smile and move on around. It's not a "woe is me," but more like a sign of the times. And at this point, it's better to charge it to the game and proceed to another destination, with no hopes of any similar crimes.

6/2/13 @ 2:48 A.M.

Return from Exile.

It's amazing how much better I feel mentally, physically and emotionally than I did four months ago...

...and it's because advanced statistics is officially in the rear view. Outside of when it's time to start doing a dissertation, I'll never have to see that crap again.

Praise God. My life is my own again.

5/24/13 @ 10:57 A.M.

Exile.

This separation was far from forced. However, after some time away, it really has been for the best.

It's amazing how much can get done, how sharper one's focus can become when you remove yourself from the mix and focus. Sure, focusing can be done in the midst of the everyday hustle and bustle, but when you're able to eliminate simple things, others come to the light that were easy to miss before.

This separation wasn't even planned. Yet, I'm glad it's happening. Dare say, it wouldn't hurt to withdraw some more, give the time I'm giving to certain avenues to other avenues and see what happens.

In the grand scheme of things, this exile has proved something I already knew, especially after E. died: life goes on. When folks really wanna know what's going on, they'll find you. If not, they won't. They have lives to live, too. I wish I didn't have to have this lesson reinforced by what happened in September, but God doesn't make mistakes. Never has. Never will.

2/9/13 @ 8:53 A.M.

17, 16, 15

God bless Newtown.

12/16/12 @ 1:38 A.M.

29

Now Playing - Tears On My Tuxedo.
Now Eating - Oreos.
Now Drinking - Milk.

29 days left in 2012.

How much is it worth to go outside of your regular persona to keep interaction from becoming boring? Better yet, if it even has to be asked, isn't that enough of an answer?

While one should be open to ways to keep things fresh and exciting, can it be done while keeping certain aspects of yourself unchanged? Or, even worse, conjuring up things or embellishing to keep things fresh? Well, that's not really an option.

Is this merely an example of having too much time on one's hands and, subsequently, too much time to think?

12/2/12 @ 5:06 P.M.

30

Well, it's been about five days of being 30 so far. It's really more mental than anything else. I spent the first day at the damn job and was pretty disgusted with myself for doing so. In my younger years, I woulda taken the day off, simply off of general principle, and trust: I will next year. Still, I ate cookie cake and some BBQ, so it wasn't completely bad.

Day Two was way better, because I was able to hit the Maze concert in Dallas. No matter what's going on, nothing else matters when you go to a Maze show. All I did was sing and dance the night away, and it was even better with the show being outside. Summer night + Maze + great crowd = some of the best times I've ever had.


Something I want to do, more than ever now, is to make sure I don't over analyze shit when interacting with people while, at the same time, making sure I pay attention to cues that can easily be missed. It's a balancing act, but when you call yourself grown, you gotta act like it.

I'm not sure what the coming days hold, and I'm in no rush to find out. The one thing I've learned more than anything about turning 30 years old is to enjoy each and every day for what it is. As important as it is to plan for the future and look ahead, there is a redeeming quality and a beauty that comes with enjoying the moment and living for today.

8/7/12 @ 10:26 P.M.

Coming to grips with Father Time

19 days from now, I will look Father Time in the face and, for the first time ever, shudder in its face.

See, there were times when the second day of August in years past would approach, I would laugh in its face. Not only would I laugh, but I would go to certain places where I seek refuge to show Father Time that it had no place in my life.

I would go to a basketball court, grab a ball, do a drop-step and dunk with ease. On my way down after my ascent to the rim, a Kevin Garnett-type howl would emerge from my soul as if to tell the world, "ANOTHER AUGUST 2ND COMING AINT SHIT TO A REAL NIGGA LIKE ME!!!"

In other instances, it would take the form of doing something that would require me to use a level of mental capacity that would still not feel like it was doing much of anything. Pen to paper, fingertips to keys and words, sentences, paragraphs and stories would develop, all the while laughing at mortality and saying "This is nothing. I was born for this."

Maybe, the signs were evident, though; the signs that Father Time was on his way. I played softball during the spring with some of my co-workers from the job, and in a three-week span, I pulled my right and my left hamstring. Sure, I had never played softball in my life, but to an athlete, a sport is a sport, and outside of twisting an ankle here or there, getting injured wasn't in my repertoire.

In the most publicized case, for the past year, I've started to be in the bed by 8 every night, because I have to be at work in the morning, and not only do I have to be at work in the morning, I "have" to work out in the morning before work, which means I have to be up much earlier. Anyway, in past times, I could sleep for 3-4 hours a night and function all day long, no strides broken, full of enthusiasm, joy and happiness.

Now? Shit, let me get three hours of sleep and go to work the next day. I'll end up being the most miserable person to be around, because I'll be so damn tired from the night before, and sure, a lot of this can be attributed to me being a working square again (prior to the end of last August, I was unemployed for two years), but still.

Then, I started to forget little shit; well, that's always been a problem of mine. As is the case with human nature, I remembered what I chose to remember and forgot everything else. However, with Father Time knocking, maybe I'm starting to forget stuff that I really want to remember and just can't.

I can only attribute it to one thing: August 2, 2012. Father Time will finally have the upper hand on me, and since it looks like that is the case, then I need to be as prepared as possible, even if there's not much I can do to stop it.

7/14/12 @ 7:07 P.M.

Stop Being Greedy

This is not to be confused with this, which still jams.

The world is too damn small. Seriously.

Everybody seems to know everybody; at this point, it shouldn't be a surprise anymore when you see folks together who seemed to not know each other existed until it so happens that y'all all know each other.

Anyway, that brings me back to the title of this post. There are times when being greedy can be a good thing, despite said term being one of the seven deadly sins. It can be good when one is greedy for success, or greedy to improve at their craft.

However, this aint one of those times. When dealing with people and interacting with them, being greedy isn't the way to go; at least, not for me. I'm cool on that.

7/1/12 @ 5:42 P.M.

Currently.

Sometimes, you just gotta say thank you.

Six Months.

It's been six months since I came to the country (East Texas) and started something new. In that time, it's really allowed life to slow down quite a bit. Sure, it's not too far away from home, not too far away from familiarity, but as long as familiarity is a phone call away, which it is, I'm cool with being at a distance.

In the time that's been spent in this place, I haven't made one single friend. Sure, there are people I work with, but that's not the same thing, and as far as I'm concerned, it's perfect with me. Whenever I head back to familiarity, more often than not, it's a reminder of why I was ready to go in the first place, and if the trade-off is not having friends out here, then it's a trade-off I'll gladly take.

So many things have changed since then. I'm in the bed around 8 every night; not quite asleep, but just the fact that I'm in the bed that early is a far cry from the previous life when staying up 'til 3, 4, 5 in the morning was the norm.

I don't live in the town where I work, which is a challenge in itself, and hotel rooms are a "home away from home" now, since there are times I'd rather just stay where I'm at as opposed to getting on the road again. Speaking of which, I think I left my Johnnie Cochran autobiography in the room I stayed in a couple of nights ago, which really pisses me off. Anyway, all of this is a challenge, that's for damn sure, but challenges are what part of living life is all about.

The only writing I feel like doing these days is in a journal, or on here. These days, life is very routine, with some things that happen out of the norm that make it interesting, which is fine by me.

Six months....slow as can be in a place that isn't too far from where I've been, but still feels like a world away. It's just what was needed and even more proof that God is in control of all.

The Single Life

I've been a single man for *goes back in time* close to nine years now. Pretty much, when Jordan came in the League in '84 and retired (the first time) in '93, I've been single that long. When Bad Boys came out in '94 and Bad Boys II came out in '03 (I think it was nine years between the two but, if not, whatever; you get the idea), I've been single that long. When a kid was in the third grade and that same kid graduated from high school nine years later, I've been single that long.

In those three examples, it was the same man, same movie and the same kid, but things took place in those years to make them what they became. Same with me; I was single at 21, but I'd be lying if I said that, just because I'm single now, I'm the same man at 29 (saying the next number that I'll be later this year is a no-no for now) that I was then.

A theory about The Single Life is that when you're single, you can pretty much do whatever you want, with whoever you want, damn near however you want, because you're single. That's the theory; a theory can be written on a sheet of paper, in a book, magazine, journal, online or whatever.

However, life doesn't work that way. Just because you're a single person, it doesn't mean you can truly do whatever, because another person, or people if you're dating freely, are in the equation. Sure, single people can act like it's all good, but feelings are bound to come, and saying "Well, I'm single" or "Well, I said this is how it's going to be" isn't good enough. It discounts human emotion, feeling, the ability people have to change their minds, outlook, what they want, what they deserve.

So while there are some things that are great about being single, it's not necessarily the greatest thing in the world, and this is coming from someone who used to look at relationships like the plague and stayed single, guarded their heart and wouldn't open up for a long time. I look at them totally different now and have for quite a while now. So while it's currently The Single Life, to look at this as it was nine years ago would not be wise. It negates plenty of life experiences that have transpired since then.

Forever is a long time, and that, as uncertain as it is, isn't necessarily a bad thing. As a matter of fact, it will be great....when the time is right.

1/6/12 @ 9:34 P.M.

Photo by Mike Hudson

Let Go

Did you ever think you met somebody that you could never see yourself not having in your life?

Well, that's definitely happened for me and, at the time, I sincerely believed it.

However, circumstances change...some people change...while some stay the same.

When it's all said and done, regardless of how long one, or both, of y'all held on...there are times when you just have to let go.

When that happens, and you're sincerely okay with it, you'll know.

Stay cool, nothing to see here is the mantra. In other words, the intangibles, the feelings that were present will become the past, and it can be looked at as just that...the past.

Look out for number one. Period. Let go.

12/13/11 @ 9:40 P.M.