Tuesday, October 10, 2006

the value in the valley

is what i'm reading. if you didn't already know. and, i guess it's almost like the book the dalai lama wrote about the way to a meaningful life. well, it mirrors it to the point where i just sit there and think: uhm, i already knew this stuff. but if i truly knew it, i'd be doing it.... when you know better you do better.

basically, i'm not in the market for reinvention because i did not invent myself and for all practical and technical purposes, i did not create myself. i'm just working on the stuff i messed up. well, iyanly would say i'm paying attention to the stuff i've been ignoring. like how talented and wonderful i am. really. you know i have the capacity to be bombastic and overly braggadocious (if such a thing exists) but i have to come in line with the Creator's plan for me, and i can't rightly do that if i'm too concerned with the foolishness i've created and deemed my "life" because it simply is not so. and so gregory, yes, life takes us through some stankin, runny, lumpy shit but we have the capacity to be cleansed by our own design. we have to take into account that all this shit we're dealing with is little people shit. little people with little (if any) dreams and no idea of their connection to the divine. we realize it, ache for it and are taking steps to reach it. i hope i'm making sense.

i have to go now. i went to GNC to get some supplements and my stomach is riverdancing on my lungs right now. translation: i need to go pop these pills and i have to eat before i can so i'll holla. longer, more enlightened things will come. until then, i leave you with the words an old pimp told me in front of dollar general in montezuma : take care of yourself, there's only one you.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

an eloquent scribe (Remy's Note)

i was reading this note on facebook and after conversating with nikki she decided that this was truly something all of us needed to read... and now the powerful words of Remy Johnson:

Well, Well, Well. Finally i have got you to this point. When you dare to look into the mind of a Mad Man. Not Mad in the sense of crazy, although i am that also. Mad in the sense that i am tired of seeing all my fucking people struggling. This shit is universal y'all, yet we don't do anything. Yes i am mad as hell, more importantly i am doing something about, if you don't believe me ask about me, fuck nigga. I have covered almost 14,000 miles of Black fucking poverty, hunger, and broken hearts. I don't think yalll feeling me, first day in South Africa a young man (12 years) told me the saddest story i could have ever fathom. Furthermore why did he trust me enough to tell me and not the people whom he cared for him. I have heard the children crying and responded accordingly. But the good news is we have come to the end of the 2000 seasons of terror, and we can now put the things back together that have fallen apart.

When the grass is singing it is because the people are suffering, but in the castle of my skin, lies the essence of my enemy. One that denies my people identity, pride, and determination. Seriously, do you niggaz think you aint Africans. Anyone who doesn't believe i will send you a picture of five or six muthafuckaz who look just like you. I know that you believe that on this African continent you will find the wretched of the earth, but they lied y'all, that's all i can tell you. These people are living. They know who they are. Everyone says ' you can't no where you are going till you know where you came from', other words return to the source (Sankofa). But i hate to be the bearer of bad news but nobody knows where they come from. You are an African, you just live in America. Europeans aint the source of all knowledge, neither the source of all hate, but they are in control.

Picture me without a name because my pedagogy was one of oppression, that caused me to develope into one mis-educated negro. I did not know thyself, but i knew football, basketball, baseball, but fuck that no more plastic balls for me, i am FUCKING KING. I don't play games and i hate lames, my defintion of lame and yours undoubtedly are not one in the same. Like right now it is an echoing silence, because everybody is talking but aint nobody saying shit. I mean u hear me but you ain't listening. Why should i listen to man who is detained, and furthermore who's mind is yet to be decolonized. You need to move your center my people, and i promise all things will change, in such a way that you....

So i am doing my job by any means neccessary, which meant turning away from friends, being looked at funny (as if i give a fuck), and scorning people whom I respect and love. But it had to be done. I had to expose enemies who had black skin and white mask, i had to live in a house of hunger, and i overcame nervous conditions. All this hard work in the field (field mob) has only lead me to a harvest of thorns, which upon every movement i am stuck and scared by the very people i seek to help.

People ask me, 'Remy, why you always on that black power shit'. Cause muthafucka...Naw seriously if i aint on BLACK power then what should i do? Be on some of that White power shit? Or maybe i should relinquish my power all together. Like so many in our country has conceited, and accepted this hopeless state of defeat. As long as we wait, we will forever be waiting for the rain, hum waiting still even. Never knowing that we are God's bit's of Wood, plucked from the tree of life. Ya feel me....naw i dont think they feel me. But it is cool, I mean REVALATIONS sounds like REVOLUTION to me. A wise man once told me that it is not the people who were taking from Africa in bondage that were slaves that were captives, but those who have retained and accepted that position (meaning yo ass!) are slaves.

Liberation is when you do not care what people think about you (outkast). But can you look inside yourself and say that is what you have acheived. i mean really and seriously, no bullshit. We remian enslaved to the idea of being cool, till we cool our damn selves down the drain. It is mental enslavement, thus now you know why the revolution won't be televised because it has to manifest in your mind. This mental enslavement is sort of like a pimp and ho relationship. What keeps this beautiful woman giving all her money to this man, when she could obviously make more money on her own. Somehow she does not believe she can do it, because he has taken her mind. 'Black People' you have become the white man's ho! And you aint using condoms.

So yes, i am Mad, i stay mad. But i also stay improving myself. The first step was to realize all the wrong i did to people and decide to fix that shit. I have done alot of fucked up shit, but then again who hasn't. Second step was to construct a Master Plan, and 'god damn' i excuted the hell out that bitch. Third step, the final step, is the flick of the stone...if you know what i mean! These are my hopes and impediments, my continuing struggle, my matriration before your own eyes. See i am interested in saving more than the souls of black folks, yet my strength is African pride.