Choosing Not to Speak

Figuring out how to write -develop a voice- has to be the most difficult challenge ever- in life. Sentence structure, conceptual themes, communicating effectively, putting it all together; the difficulty is in the fact that it’s difficult. Especially when you know you are good at what you do- without having anything to show people otherwise. It’s as if you have a hidden talent in the form of a golden egg covered in shit and wrapped in bacon. The first bite may be good, but if you want to get yolk you have to clean up the crap under the surface. This really isn’t for everyone. You need a strong stomach. Sometimes (a lot of times) I don’t think it’s for me either. I guess I have to continue based on faith. Which means something, I guess.

FAITH! What is that? What makes parishioners believe that their prayers will dissolve all of their problems? You see them every Sunday with calluses on their knees from years at the pew- reeking of the same problems. Can we believe in a heaven or hell when no one has ever come back from the dead to verify? Isn’t faith total belief in an outcome based on probability; where the probability is based on prior substantiated knowledge that gives you reason to actually believe without equivocation?

Whatever the case may be I’ll assume in my case the prior substantiated knowledge is the fact that someone else did it before. Or has been believed to accomplish something before. Someone somewhere came up with the theory of heaven and hell and sold it as if they themselves have been there, or came into contact with someone (something) that could give them the knowledge of this apparently non-falsifiable concept.

There was human being out there to have been in my same position as me at some point: an observant thinker that has yet to be able to express fluently on paper the way he can in speech. I have faith that person, whether famous, or not, greatly increased my probability of brushing of this dirty ass egg.

Abra-kadabra, poof and voilà, the magician has just presented you with his latest spectacle. You, the unsuspecting audience, may believe rabbits just appear out of thin air, or that magicians are unlearned savants apt at crazy card tricks and sawing women in half.

But as illusionist -and Jr. Houdini- David Blaine exemplifies (see below) any artist skilled at his craft puts in countless hours and years of struggle into every trick and slight of hand the audience may see, even if for a few seconds.

What do you love? What is that one thing that you would kill for if someone took it away from you? If you don’t know where you are how will you know where you are going (just saying)?

Knowing where you're going is very important. The one thing that moves me is advertising. It entails writing, creative/organized thought, tons of will power and self-confidence. This means that every day I have to put in lots of writing, organize my creativity and utilize my will power and self-confidence to get it done. Not because I want to, but because I have to (my life depends on it).

Figure out what it is that moves you and get to work. If you think it’s too late to start on that dream, maybe you should wake up. Or if you’re David, create an illusion of working towards your dreams; people may believe it. If you work hard enough.

Strong Poet. Strong Piece... Please Re-post

Client: Sony, PS3 (France)
Agency: Rewiind
Production: Les Fées Production
Director: Lee Shulman

I'm sorry, but they are really trying to make these commercials as lude as possible. The comments and the faces are ridiculously funny.

A strong message delivered by PETA (not sure of the agency).

There's no "safe for work" verb to fill in the above blank. slip, squirt, club... Nothing. They're all just dirty, or misanthropic, but that may just be my perverse brain at work. So, I gave my more perverse friends a shot. They gave me words like, "caulk, pickle, diddle." And my favorite, "filch."...they never offer any good help.

By the way, can you filch all over someones face? I know what it means, but it sounds like a dump and a money shot wrapped loosely in a Polish sausage casing. Which granted is a little over the top, but who would want to "filch" all over someones face anyway? Can you clean something like that off? (the thought is killing me, but I digress...).

Trying to solve my on going dilemma I realized you can add a noun to the sentence to change the focus (e.g., I want to put makeup all over your face). I think that defeats the purpose though. It doesn't have the same intonation by just saying , " I want to put all over your face," or if your Tiger Woods, " I want to putt all over your face." And being that Tiger is a true sportsman and knowing what's been going on in his life, he probably would use a nine iron instead. I wonder if he banged a Polish chick? You think she let him filch all over her face?

1. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t know pain. Thank you. You have taught me that without pressure there is no diamond. I hope my shine blinds you into seeing how much you hurt helped me. When you come into contact with me raise me to your face and stare into your imperfection. Cut your self with my hard edges and remember the times you cut me. Next time consider suicide before you are birthed.

2. If you were a book, you’d be an erotic novel, sultry and magnetic. There were times when I forgot I wasn’t breathing. Your suspense fed me. I clothed my self with your passion. I wrapped you around my neck for warmth, and you kicked the chair from under me. I just got back on my feet from that fall from heaven. I am glad we are strangers now. Maybe next lifetime we can keep it that way.

3. I am a sorcerer. You are a witch. We learn from each other, but should realize that two magnets of the same pole should not get too close. From a distance I send you this sigil of love, success and consciousness…. My equal, but opposite.

4. My sweat pants are still in your dresser. Keep them. I’m sure he thinks they are his by now.

5. There are demons inside of you that I do not wish to know. If they kill you tomorrow I will slant my eyes and look between the cracks in the air to pull you back, just in time to light the hookah and share my philosophy of how we are all going to die some day anyway.

6. Durex condoms are like Hulk Hogan's T-shirts. Too small and easily ripped. Next time I’ll spend the extra two bucks for the Trojans, but not with you.

7. You get my favorite number. You were once my favorite person. Or at least I thought you were. I threw my self at your altar and smelled my flesh burn in your temple. Incense to your pseudo godess. You never came to collect my offering. I just found out they sell you in vending machines at Six Flags. Thank you for never playing games with me. Thank you for never getting to know me. Those three years were wonderfully ignorant.

8. I find myself wanting to be like you sometimes. I find myself looking down on you sometimes. I sometimes steal your words as if they belong to Moses and blaspheme your name behind your back, because you are that much cooler than I. I realize why girls are always talking about you.

9. I was cleaning under my desk today and found a pencil with your name on it. I have drawn a line that has circumnavigated the globe, but still I can’t write the right words that will lead to your celestial heart. It’s hard being beautiful, smart and rich. I know. Don’t abuse that privilege. A metaphor, or a swift strike of my pen will end your fanciful existence and bring you back down to the earth. Until then I hope my wings are strong enough to meet you in that place. I’ll probably loose interest tomorrow.

10. To I. the Philosophers Stone unturned. Do not forget yourself, listen to the silence in the wind storm and you will find All. The objective mind is but a gate keeper to the subjective mind, cultivate thought and own the sword… The words of wisdom are only open the ears of understanding.

Yes, Flavor Flav has found another way to destroy our ear canals with more inaudible music.

Kinda crass, but a strong message.

Southern rap is not cool. Sorry, it's not. The lifestyle, the beats, the teeth and most importantly the fact that their songs are usually about ABSOLUTELY NOTHING drives home that fact.

That being said artist like Gucci Mane and Soulja Boy have impacted communities, black and white, in the most Parasitic and destructive way.

Southern rappers have taken the potential positive influence of music and used it to tell their followers to get their cars painted the color of Cotton Candy, fill their mouth with metal so they can never pass a metal detector silently, and scream out inaudible cacophonies to let people know they are present and ignorant (e.g. "aayyuuppp" and "hheeennggg").

I turned on the television today and ended up watching a random music station in the 200's on Fios. One of the videos on was of this thug looking rapper from the south that sounded kinda dope (for a southern rapper). Not because of somewhat appeasing beat, or his decent flow, but because of his content. He was talking about positive things: kids becoming better people, not selling drugs, helping the community and how he found himself through Jesus, all without sounding preachy. I was amazed.


Pressing the info button on the remote I realized I was watching the Christian Gospel Channel (I was upset at myself for a second for that mishap) and a rapper named F 1 Diamond, aka "The Pastor of the Trap." HA!

He was actually worth listening to, he had a mainstream sound with quality content. I'm not into the whole extra "praise Jesus" rap and r&b, but his approach to the song kept me from automatically cringing and wanting to change the channel (I eventually did). I even enjoyed it.

I hope, although unlikely, he gets the chance to enter the mainstream. F 1 probably will have to curtail his rhetoric a little to mainstream views, but I feel that he is one of the few Southern Rappers out their that can, and is having a positive impact on people everywhere.

Buju Banton, the famous Rastafarian singer/Dj, has recently been charged and arrested under the allegation of attempting to purchase 5 kilos of cocaine with the intent to distribute. Many know Buju as one of the leading artist in the conscious rasta movement, in which Buju himself strongly spoke out against the usage of cocaine, understanding the negative effects it has had on his home country of Jamaica.

I am sorry to hear something like this, especially from an artist of this stature. Buju has been an idol and role model to my self and many other Jamaicans, because of his ideology of peace, love, unity and the upliftment of black people everywhere.

click here for the AP article.

I've been trying to get girls to "shake my weight" for years.
This invention will revolutionize hand jobs for decades to come. Literally & figuratively.

It's safe to say life sucks. I mean, life never really goes the way we want it to. If I had what I wanted, I'd be the greatest footballer (soccer for you yankees) to ever live, I would be the greatest writer to have ever seen a pen (I'm slowly working on it) and I'd have a hot girlfriend who holds the world record for holding her breath, while multitasking.

We all have dreams right? And we all want the best of the best, either for our own needs, or for validation by our peers.

So why is it so difficult to attain those dreams?

Is it fate, competition, or is it our bad habit as humans to quit our goals early and become overly comfortable once we've seen a little of the riches our dreams may bring, along our journey?

The greatest artist, athletes and icons are the ones who shape what we consider success, right? And it seems most of them have something in common.

They don't know when to quit!

Michelangelo rarely felt his work was ever finished, Howard Hughes spent years editing, and millions of dollars producing his movie Hell's Angels- he never felt it was to his quality. Even Donald Trump is a voracious consumer of property, all in his quest to be the most prominent land owner in the universe. Unless Richard Branson gets there first.

These men, and those like them, seem to be the most successful people in the world, in the most lasting way. The all want perfection and they do it by incorporating their unquenchable attitudes into every aspect of their life.

So don't blame Tiger for his insatiable desire to fill every hole he sees. He's just trying to be the best. On and off the course

And Gatorade only sponsors the best my friends. So ask yourself, Is it in you?

Wow! I'm gonna keep my mouth shut from now on.

I just overheard four people having the most serious conversation about Jay-Z being the Antichrist. One gentleman, claiming to a producer who worked with Jay (aka the Devil incarnate), was preaching as fervently as possibly to make his point that Jay is in fact a masonic priest and that Oprah has put him (Jay-z) here to re-enslave the black race.

While ease dropping, the convo became so serious and semi-persuasive that I almost went to Walgreens to purchase the Black Album to see what happened if I played the tracks backwards chanting "The Roc is here"... Almost. It's 2009 I would never actually purchase a cd.

In actuality the conversation really made me realize how dumb we are. And I do mean we! Think about how many times you get caught up in a conversation with your friends and start preaching yours or Bon Jovi's personal philosophy, treating it like gold. How many times have you heard someone give you their "Keys to life," knowing these keys couldn't open the door to a 24 hour 7-11 (I always wondered why they had locks)?

All I'm saying is that sometimes it's best to just, shut the fuck up and stop worrying about other people. If you think Jay-Z is the Antichrist the next time you're in Best Buy ask for Kenny Rogers Christian Christmas album instead. I'm sure you'll realize how demonic his music can be... On your ears.

By the way this is the video that these imbeciles were citing when coming up with their arguments: The Jay-Z Deception

Silly Nigga, Tricks are for white folks who can afford cereal, get a job.

A friend of mine sent me this link displaying how black men have taken an exodus to woman of a darker persuasion. I think the link is funniest thing on earth. I have no problem with mixed raced couples, but it seems some people do.

Have you ever seen a sunset at dawn?
That is not me.
I am nothing spectacular,
only because I am still alive.
A writer from Jersey with roots in Jamaica
and aspirations of Brooklyn,
so I try to get high off of the music
of my words, found on the streets with the people.

A Poet by reincarnation,
Copywriter by day,
I love to write, but will never proof read,
as reading will never prove anything.
A believer in action.
Words are fuel to move bodies,
sometimes used,
but more often wasted.
A dreamer of day,
forget-or of tomorrow,
where my words are still in the belly of the earth.


Therefore I choose not to speak.

When you see this man

walking down a familiar corridor of your greatest fears.

Do not stop him.

Do not warn him of the possible

Misfortune that he could derive,

or the heartache one gets from

failing to take a chance at life’s thrills.

Do not bother him.

Keep your thoughts to your self.

Manifest what you will,

But keep your thoughts to yourself.

This man, if that.

Is a warrior.

An evolved Petri dish

Of consciousness.

Two parts brave

One part confident,

He believes in no man.

Breaks for no one and

Keeps his distance as the

The onslaught approaches.

What you call good or bad luck

He calls

The reason for living

He is a being that can exhale

buildings of gold

at drop of something

not yet visible.

Have you ever seen the

the sky bleed red When

Clouded thoughts are

pierced with the conviction

of ones words?

His actions speak louder than

syllables of a def mans hands,

and his tongue, drips with

The Resurrection

Of an IV

His secret, however,

is that he can not see.

Following this path using

The vibrations of his destiny

He believes in no man,

Breaks for no one

And keeps his distance

As the onslaught approaches

He is the fire that lights the

Moon.

On those nights where

The tide is too high to

Save ones-self amongst the

Rigid rocks.

He will never lay timid

Like a stoner

In fact, he stands firm

On mountains

Like boulders.

grounded from

Those why try to quake him,

You, cannot shake him

He is the epicenter of your consciousness

That feeling of balance a ballerina

Gets when nailing her first pirouette.

Beyond your understanding

Like the frequency of God in a radio

Not yet equipped to play

Real music.

He is HD radio.

Heavens Definition ;

Waiting for you to listen between the stations

Where a barely audible white noise plays

the most melodic tunes of

self awareness

Tune out your self importance

Fortify your will and

Open the doors to your

Inner warrior

Believe in no man

Break for no one

And keep your distance

As the onslaught approaches

In the end.

you will thank him

Exalte your exuberance for how lucky you are to be in his presence,

where he reminds you that you are not a body with a spirit, but a spirit with a body.

Something that you forgot.

the day you stopped believing in your self.