Wednesday, July 12, 2006

slave to the page.

in light of the so so many things that are happening in other places, for fuck's sake, i thank certain situations for crushing me to the point where i can now keep it together. you can take that on a worldly level or a personal level or a local level. it works on all of them. but i think if you're reading this, you know. cross your forehead, cross your lips, cross your hearts. amen.

i got asked to be on an album today. i met with a kid who i've been talking to who raps. i hadn't heard his demo, and i'm thinking, okay, it might be weak, but whatever. it can't be any worse than, and it can't be any worse, music-wise, than local artists who are constantly constantly sending LISTEN TO US messages around. so i scope this kid out, and he spits me some verses that aren't on his thing. and me, the resourceful one, takes out the damn composition book.

: what's this, all of your secret thoughts?
. ha, naw man, this is my book of rhymes, haha.
: oh shit, sorry nasir jones.
. aaight, give me a second.

i drank from a glass of water and made sure i had flexibility of the mouth.

: hahaha, you see this kid?
. aaight, man. here it is.

i gave him what i thought was some of my best stuff. as i'm reading it, my mind is going blank, writing new things, new places, new people, new characters, new pronunciations, and new ways to read old passages. to make things that've already happened and that people have already seen completely painted in new colors. i thought about a story i'm still trying to finish up. my mouth was doing the movement. before i knew it, i was done, and i slammed the book closed. for effect, mostly, but also, because i needed it to end. i'm only nervous just before and just after i read.

: i want you on my album.
. what man, really?!
: i want you on my album.
. dude, that's crazy. just like that?!
: i want you on my album.

that's the sort of thing i've been waiting around to happen for a while. what am i doing. hopefully that's the sort've effect i can have on more people than local rappers, but if this is as far as it goes, so be it. i'm looking at it as a hobby. it's never going to be a career. that's not why i do it.

however, getting so inspired by a mild success, i ended up writing and sending out a bunch of e-mails to a bunch of magazines, local and larger, to try to see if the success would come in avalanches. it won't. i'm not expecting any e-mails back.

dave said it best, though.
"sending e-mails out is better than NOT sending e-mails out."

i'm thinking about what's going on with my life, really, and i accidentally start thinking about people approving/disapproving of what i'm doing, and what i want to do. that's usually not the sort of thing i get all caught up in. but i have a lot of time on my hands here. it just creeps in sometimes. i think about certain things that i could say about anyone else doing what i'm in the middle of doing.

"so, he just went to florida to go? is there a job there? is there a girl there? is there anything there? oh. well, i mean, that's cool that he wants to do that... but, i mean, isn't it kind've pointless? what happens when he comes back? he left his job. they won't take him back. people usually get this sort've stuff out of the way by going away to school. he's out there not accomplishing anything. i could see if he was really living it up, and it was one big experience that he wouldn't forget, but it's just more life in another state." -- it goes on and on.

all of that stuff is the sorts of judgements i pass on myself. i can't even imagine the things that people who AREN'T me think. the people who don't have to set up walls between the things they say and the way they feel inside, because they can say the most painful things because they won't be hurting anyone but him. but me.

i'm trying to really not fall behind the ball here. i'm trying to get some moves in order. trying to make more than $20k/year, because i'm just not accomplishing very much. i have nothing to show for anything i've done, other than memories, and the way people feel about me. that, to me, is more valuable and rewarding than anything else that you can pickup behind a desk or a laptop or a counter or a steering wheel. but it's not going to keep you dry or memorable.

it's finally at the point where i've fallen the furthest behind my peers. officially. i don't want to keep up, necessarily, but i don't want to be completely obsolete.

i could talk like this forever, just until i start to make that difference.
it's time to make the believers get their ways, man.
it was cute for long enough.

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