Jo(h)n Jonny JODY-heimer Jonathan-Schmidt

I was running, running, running,

Through the forest, forest, forest,

And it was pretty, pretty, pretty,

But then I saw Horace, Horace, Horace,

I love trail running. In college one of my preferred areas to frolic around was in Bartram Forest. It is a network of green & brown objects riddled with trails right off of US-441. Miles and miles of dirt, trees, rocks, and the occasional naked hippy*. One of those areas where somebody could fall asleep and wake up unscathed.

My favorite reason to run out in nature is to get a certain elation. I call it a third wind**. For background, second wind is what most people feel at a certain point of distance running. When your body switches metabolic processes. This form of anaerobic metabolism I speak of becomes that best friend at a bar who is down to play iSpy for a five hours.

But third wind. That’s when limbo presents itself to me. Time isn’t a priority nor is my body's exhaustion an issue nor do I care where I am going nor do I realize where I am. Or who I am.

I just run.

Did I mention, mention, mention,

That I stole from Horace, Horace, Horace,

He was a troll, troll, troll,

Who’s face was bleh, bleh, bleh

Loblolly pines served as inebriated High Overseers. The always physically imposing but essentially inept trees that make me rub my eyes to make sure Slenderman isn't chasing me.

Today was different. I did have a goal. Today my agenda had been clear that cloudy morning. To take back a relic my possession from the nasty, horrid-looking, disease-ridden, no nipple-having, mud-troll.

Once I mustered up my will, I crept up to a seemingly-lifeless cobblestone bridge. Tiptoeing up to the unprotected item, I made an unnatural noise and lunged for it. Once it pleased my fingertips, I fell childishly backward. The troll did not make one grunt, grumble, or mumble. 

Then I left.

I wove in-between the burnt timber as though I was Thomas Saint. My running shoes had become footprints, toes providing traceable footprints. But it t would take the troll a fortnight to catch me. That is if I were to stop moving. My bare feet trampled over stones, acorns, pine combs, red clay, smoldering ashes. The calluses on my feet were that thick to where I could have had a footbath at the crest of Orodruin. One foot, two foot, big toe, small toe. Rain drops falling off the tip of a leaf. Not on-beat but perpetual.

By the time the troll had consumed his late-morning brunch, I was already grabbing a pint at The Green Dragon Inn.

By the time the troll figured out his relic was not with him anymore, I was grabbing my fourth pint at The Tavern. 

648 kilometers from where the troll got hit.  And he screamed out to the heavens, I mean he screamed to where all the creatures and critters who had functional eardrums. My own ears caught his tone and along with the black muck in his pupils. It was as though he was sitting in the stool right next to me. 

My mind collapsed from my fugue state of strenuous activity. My mind quickly returned from Middle Earth back to Milledgeville, Georgia. I had run out about 3 miles from the main trailhead. I fell through the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th stages of limbo. My wireless headphones were at 0%. Somebody woke me up.

There were three humans in the cab of a modded pick-up truck. Belaying sayings that sliced to the air and rattled my endorphins.

"N*gger" is the title they believed me to be. I have over four names, they needed to try again,

 The trail route in Bartram I normally take had been washed out, so my running shoes, which had reanimated, hit the Vinson Highway pavement. Only for a few minutes. The action and reaction only took a few seconds. I didn’t yell back or throw a rock at their windshield. Maybe they were unaccompanied minors attempting a prank or maybe a white supremacist group or maybe some of my college associates. Maybe I could have even set myself up for an outdated slave joke since on occasion I run without Asics. But "maybe"is for the indecisive.

Whatever that maybe was, I didn’t have time for it. I had 5Ks to run.

I glanced back at that troll, troll, troll,

Who called me a derogatory term, term, term,

But I did not stop, stop, stop

Because I was not done running, running, running,

--

*A story for a different time.

**A third wind is a term I made up to refer to a euphoric feeling. In this state, I imagine a daydream sequence of me running in an imaginary environment. In for this fictional setting, I’m a hobbit running through The Shire.

Blood by The Middle East always captivated my mind, soul, and spirit to put me in an euphoric mood. No matter what the situation, 

How To Lose a Jon In 10 Days

I am firm believer that I am the LAST person in the solar system to be giving out dating advice, especially since I have continuously deflected dating in high school to get my K/D ratio at 1.2 on CoD (see what I mean?). So here are a few of my random quirks and backstories that have gotten (got?) me to this point as a 26 year-old man-child.

*Please be advised, once again, this is not dating advice. Because me giving out dating advice is like Steve Harvey giving out any advice. It just shouldn't happen,

I had the pleasure of growing up with Xbox live and a decent internet service. So my dating life conveniently was hindered in high school due to me playing Halo 3, Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2, and a whole slew of Rockstar games. The opposite sex was cool in my book, but me and Gtownboi88 had to set aside weekend nights to get those sweet, sweet achievements Xbox achievements.

As times progressed, I awkwardly and briefly stumbled into the dating scene when college started. I technically didn't have my first kiss until college since my teeth cut a girl's eyelid due to lack of aim on the first go around and it was bad. Well more pathetic because Google had failed me, 

Remember that Spongebob episode where he says "I'm ugly and I'm proud!" and Squidward subtly says "is that what you call it?" and he gains the bare minimum of self-confidence to exist? Yeah. But quick reminder that my mentality is "I am the sh*t but also I am a little sh*t" and that didn't fair well.

When post-college life came around, I had hit a stride and felt what I needed was attainable, and my communication came out of dormant. Punctuality became (essential) important, intention became tier 1, futures were discussed, but I noticed I started attaching myself to maybe 60%-75% of the a person. Like toxic traits were ignored and I only wanted to pick out the positive, beneficial ones. Maybe someone is intellectually, emotional, socially, and financially sound but romantically had some rough habits. Even though the communication was there, that trait didn't just lay around dormant. It still negatively impacted me. Which wasn't and still isn't healthy for me or any partner I was with,

It's also strange because I will get so jittery and happy when meeting that new person to where I get annoyed with my thoughts on whether I should text them or not. Every time I see that person, my heart would drop down to the soles of my feet. But also at a certain point, I had to think that I was only excited because someone chose to speak to me, and they could have literally done anything else today. (Yes, I know, Jonny is annoying)

Came to the hard truths, like understanding if people are too busy to date me at 27, what hope do I have of dating them when they are busy at 35. Humans will make time for you if they really want too. No one is that occupied. Unless you're The Rock (have you seen his IG?) people have priorities in life and it's okay if it doesn't involve me. People who I have known for years and years used to remain in my life because they create that time and space. But for years and years they hindered that growth to find someone. It's like I have been a dandelion being told dandelions are just weeds. When that's not that truth at all,

I still think there's more good women then men percentage wise, but it is vital to everyone's everyday life to just ask sometimes. You don't have to wait 10 days to do so. Seeing negative, undefinable bad tendencies in the first 5 minutes of a meet-up (one girl asked me if I was gay repeatedly because I wore a yellow shirt), it's okay to hit that step-back. Sometimes there are people that I meet over a dating app and wished that I met them at a Comic Con or in college. Just let them know how you feel, for better or for worse. And if someone asks you to stop talking to them, maybe (definitely) you should stop talking to them,

And it's okay to be intimate with someone you've known for years but there is a certain amount of respect for that friendship that has dissipated. I think that's real.

Almost everything about dating is nice to me. It can be stressful and a waste of time, but you get to meet someone new, someone who you talked to for a week or for a year and they are anxious to meet you. They don't know of your faults or mistakes, you get to make the same bad decisions all over again if you want to be that way. Or learn from them, that's probably better. It's like a weird time loop or Groundhog Day. You can change anything you want but it's always going to be the same result on your end. Just stay true to yourself but please, for the love of Jon, don't be a terrible. Yes, I am talking to you 21 year-old Jon,

The Breaks Pt. 2: Michelle Obama Punching The Air

Phew. Um, okay let's get this started,

I, Jon Boy, of sound body and Jonny, hereby decree Michelle Obama's lunch program was and is straight nasty. And didn't even reduce the rumbly in my kidd's tummies. I swore one had 3 pieces of tiny, soggy broccoli, 5 saltines, and half of a tangelo. I love you FLOTUS, but you gotta' go harder than that. Just constructive criticism, please don't send Black Twitter after me.

The past two or so months, I've had the luxury to sit down and think in a neutral space while swapping ideas about what to do professionally. Program coordinator, going back to school for a degree, going back to school to teach, full-time yoga instructor, etc. As some may know, I elected to put a halt to my teaching career early this year to get it together. Long story short, almost all of the pieces of me fell down a drain and I was blindly trying to pick up everything as Pennywise was lurking below. That's what it felt like for the 2.5 years of teaching. every day.

But making the abrupt decision to come back to the south and talk to dozens to people who helped me grow from 18-25 aided me a lot. It was why I was sucessful as a worker, student, and overall Jonathan. It helped me conclude that I am ready to teach again and pursue my MAT in June. You see? Only took me 15 or so jobs from literal ditch digging to creating raps for kids to remember the periodic table over 8 years of adult life. But let me stop you right there Jon:

When I was 17 years of age and chose Georgia College with an intention to get an Environmental Science degree, I did not have the desire to be a scientist or a teacher. Huge shot in the dark that landed appropriately. Science was by far my worse subject in grade school and I was the quiet kid in group projects. Big ups to the Thomas Dale Book Club,

And there were a lot of kids like me (beautiful and confident but perplexed and multi-talented) who needed to gain life experience and didn't have a set plan going into college. Not everyone is going to have a right out passion like dental school or hotdog-eating. If you take away one thing from someone like me, I got about 6 other trades. Sometimes your passion is that you want to do everything. Don't take my cornbread though, please.

 My degree was so broad, it made sense to me. I felt like Baby Yoda in Mandalorian except I had like a team of 50 bounty hunters to help me wobble along my own way. Even after getting my B.S. at the age of 22, I been knew that being a lab tech or geologist was completely out of the question. Luckily I got (fell) into substitute teaching after school and the rest was history. Good pun Jon, B- for you.

So 4 years after a roller coaster of a teaching career, it became priority that I prioritize the propriety of molding myself to be the best educator, and to get my MAT at mt old school. But even within those 4 years, I had tried to be a geologist, tour guide, gym teacher, yoga instructor, dog runner, program coordinator, and tried getting a Masters in Urban Policy. Getting a Masters became a social thing with black people; "go ahead and get it now while you're young" people do not understand how stupid I am. Get a Masters because I am young? Please, I barely knew the differences between they're, their, and there when I was 24. Shoot, I may wait until I am 48, quit playing with ne.

I do think about those two first years of college a lot; sometimes I backtrack and think they are a waste. Heck, I didn't even party that much those first two years. I wanted to leave, all of the time. Didn't wanna' go home but did not want to stay. What if I did Americorp and got to gain perspective? What if I stayed home and went to Savannah Tech? It's important to keep the mind as open as possible for however long as humanly possible. Being 15 and having to support an entire family comes up and then your peripherals start to disappear. But I totally put experience and education on the same playing field, balanced, as all things should be. Fortunate enough to have people tossing my precise alley-oops over and over again. So Michelle over here jamming college down someone's throat when this kid literally just wants to be the best carpenter in the world. Probably doesn't need 50k in debt with an Art History degree. #thanksObama

Okay, I asked Black Twitter for that one. 

Definitely not going to sit down with a kid and tell them not go to school or to go to school. That shouldn't be anyone's way to mentor the youth. I will definitely give them an appetizer sample from Applebee's of venues they can purse. There's military, college, trade school, volunteering, straight work, etc. But education in any form has to remain priority. If you can't read or write or communicate properly upon graduating high school, life is going to be really hard for anyone.

I know, I am privileged and I don't always have that mindset "do what you gotta' do to survive" I've had the luxury of people doing that for me. No one was going to sit around and see me fail unless talking my ear off about it or sending me some gentrified cornbread in support. Everything that I say or do is backed by my ancestors and immediate family. Whether it be for better or for worse, 

The Emasculation of The Ignorant Black Man Pt. 3

I started getting tattoos around the age of 22. Sometimes due to the desire to have body art, some through tattoo therapy, and mostly because I thought "Why Not?"My goal still is to cover 30 % of my body with the ink, only rules I have are:

1.) Nothing above the collar bone

2. No names or identifiable faces

Here are the list describing every tattoo, where they are located, and why. Enjoy! (Yes I made a spreadsheet)

Tattoo	Body Location	Reason
Zebra Inspired Tiger Stripes (1st tattoo)	Entire left arm	I initially wanted to zebra stripes but the lady who did it added spikes for the stencil so I kept it. Growing up didn't know if I was a black with white stripes or vice versa. Only tattoo I wanted through college
Seagulls	Right forearm	From one of my favorite tales Jonathan Livingston Seagull , reminder to always keep working on love
Japanese Clouds	Right elbow	I thought they complimented the seagulls and the trees on my right forearm
Red Cardinal Perched on A Peach*	Right rib cage	An ode to the two states I grew up in as a child (Virginia = Red Cardinal, Georgia = Peach), not knowing if I would return back to them again after I had moved to Denver in 2017
Triangle Series Yoga Poses	Left back	My favorite series that I learned with my time getting my 200 hour yoga license. It helped me feel confident and long in my stature
Unicorn*	Left upper outer calf	Cheap tattoo from a random street festival. My only drunk tattoo
Rainbow Shaped 'J'	Upper left back	Rainbows make me happy !
Christmas Lights (Last Tattoo)	Right side of spine, along back	Very well known that I view Christmas Day as a high effort, low reward holiday. But Christmas lights have always made me calm and appreciate any setting or surrounding,
Silhouette of a Black Woman	Left side of back	Black women are dope. That is all.
Basic Bundle of Star Doodles	Left upper inner calf	I made this tattoo every time I made a NBA 2k character since 2010. In a way, I grew into the player I always created playing Xbox
Akindra Symbols from Black Panther	Back of calf	3 symbols that represent love, peace, and family. I don't recall the actual meaning but I can totz find the link
Artemis Wings*	Lower left outer calf	Sometimes I feel like I have Artemis wings in my legs when I am running, and that's a fo' sho' right on
Wings	Right shoulder	From one of my favorite players Andre Iguodala. Unfortunately didn't turn out as detailed as his
Moana Tribal Sun	Left man boobie	I actually did not know it was the sun from that film, I just thought it looked cool.
Darcy's Law	Right man boobie	The equation for how water flows through a porous medium that ruled my life to help me get my science degree. Kind of a joke tattoo for my Hydrology professor
Jaguar Shark from The Life Aquatic	Upper right back	That whole movie is a masterpiece and I wanted to get at least one thing from it
3 Apples*	Left rib cage	Apple a day keeps the doctor a way was what my momma' told me. Still going strong from this ideal
Black Spruce Trees	Right forearm	From my time in Alaska, it always learned back and forth and it was so flimsy. But it never fell.
Carrot	Front right calf	I am the only in my immediate family that does not have to wear classes. Coincidence?
Cornbread	Front lower thigh	My entire life. Do ya' have to ask?

Life After Blackface

I didn't think anything for me was too hard or too easy growing up. I loved making jokes here and there about my growing up Christian, being a military baby, being an active Book Club member, using Quizlet a weebit too much in college, hitting a girl's eyeball with my teeth on my first kiss. But everything seemed fine I think, not positively sure. Only about 15 emotional tons of suppressed anger. 

Humor had begun to be my defense mechanism right around 16 or 17. I never particularly thought it helped and didn't try to be funny (at all!) but it aided me to shuck and jive through high school and part of college. There was the additional fact I wanted to be a wallflower to subconsciously let the proverbial Cody, Jo(h)n Trent, Huckleberry Finn Forest, Connor, and the boys do whatever they wanted to without any consequence in 11th grade.

Skrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt, stop, hold the phone. We will start our story here, as our fellow antihero, Jon, discusses how he allowed 'dem boys to shout racial slurs at marching band games. Yes I will say allowed.

First of all my high school was racist. Like it was Boondocks satire meets a dumpster fire, and the dumpster fire is filled with miracle whip that Kramer initiated. I am not properly punctuating miracle whip because it does not deserve my respect. I am sure everyone was aware about how '50s racist it was but I am also aware that nobody necessarily cared about trumpet players in the band playing dixie whenever we played Savannah High or literally any other school. Didn't say anything, ever. I felt embarrassed but that went away. I felt flustered but then that went away. I felt humiliated but that went away too. Felt like I was at Camp Green Lake and kept digging holes to bury my feelings but it didn't fill them the hole back up and it destroyed my foundation. 

In the course of all of this, I would eat lunch during transitions before it was lunch time, taking 25-30 minutes to read in the library. I did not go to a single party in high school. A girl I had a super duper crush on came over my house when my parents weren't home, and I threatened to call the cops on her because I wanted to finish beating Modern Warfare 2. I quit the basketball team. If you saw a picture of what literal shucking 'n' jiving in the dictionary was, I was doing it after school in the senior parking lot. 

At that time I didn't want to die, I just didn't want to be there anymore. Every attempt at being social failed talking to my fellow peers was 45% slurs. One of my favorite teachers from high school I speak to now recounted about my isolation had hit its peak to where I didn't even want to speak to 'em. Pizza didn't hit the same.Who would have thought racism made pizza taste bad. 

I wondered if I was wearing blackface during that time. Never being angry, retaliating, or acknowledging feelings, this was one of the anomalies never was able to figure out as a teenager. I had been stopped by the boys in blue over 5 times those 2.5 years in my hometown. Broad daylight. Normally going for a jog in my own neighborhood. The lady beside me thought I stole her lawn chairs or knew someone who did do it. I knew who did it but I ain't tellin' because I only snitch if you didn't know Deandre and Zo sped off in their dad's white ford pick up truck to Midway on that Tuesday, hauling some mahogany wood furniture. 

Why didn't I ever have that n*gga moment? Well Jon does sound like a really good name for someone who uses his father's inheritance money to take 7 years to finish college even though they are enrolled full-time. They did try to strip me of whatever melanin I had by repeatedly letting me know "I was one of those nice black guys". She told me to tell my ex-best friend that because she didn't feel didn't like how the sun hit off of his skin. 

I didn't stand up to anyone at that point, especially not myself. Tried to leave out the front door without checking my own mirror to get the crusty from my face. Which did not do wonders for my S-curls, I tell ya'. 

I came out of that school looking like I worked in a coal mine all summer. All of these black streaks coming off of my face real easy. Thankful to have met the beautiful and intelligent folks at my college to righteously and assertively check people, even without saying a word. But even after blocking everyone and resetting my friend group IMMEDIATELY after high school graduation, I realized that I am not done yet. High school reunion is in two years and in similar fashion as my 26 year old self, I kept notes and journals on different conversations and thoughts. My public speaking improved handsomely and so has my openness, even without liquid courage. So I kept notes on everything, even before I was kissing girls on the eyeball. On everything.

On. Every. thing. Welcome to the Minstrel Show. 

I Wish I Had a Friend Like Me

If someone asked me about one of my favorite childhood memories, I would tell them about me and Lil' Greg riding in a hoopty when we were kids, probably somewhere in PG County. 

During this car ride, I was interrogating Lil' Greg about how many action figures his dad had and about movies our moms would let us go see in theaters. Regular hood stuff. Through the banter about our prepubescent garble, a man who sounded like someone stapled 85% of teeth together with peanut butter had been reciting lines with some old lady by momma' used to listen too. After 2 minutes of listening to this song, I realized I didn't want to listen to Lil' Bow Wow anymore.

In the mid 2000s, the man who was doing "pretty hood in his pink polo" had lodged himself in my brain; ordered cable, internet, phone, and started a tomato garden. This was right around the time MF DOOM, Outkast, Jay-Z,  N.E.R.D., and most old school hip-hop had infiltrated my airwaves. Even with all of these artists, it seemed I was more emphatic about this college dropout's everyday life.

In 2008, I knew everything about pledging 'Broke Phi Broke', diamonds from Sierra Leone, Jesus walking, coming home, wanting to get on a spaceship after being a token black, having Deray Davis impersonate Bernie Mac as an alarm clock, listening to Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross, with just a hint of Anita. Songs that I believed to sound like poems (which a lot of them were) climbed up through my earphones and car stereo speakers, filling me with stories from a ghetto pop-up book. It became my fuel for the day and safe haven at night. It became the #1 topic starter and my #1 topic stopper. Still never understood the bear thing though.

Then there was the introduction to heartbreak. There were the ghost writers, the erratic and completely unexcused behavior, the tragedy that soon followed. There were some things The World Famous Tony Williams couldn't fix. I had seen him perform months after his mother died, on Mother's Day performing "Hey Mama". The inconsistency as an artist and as a black man in America came to fruition. It broke my heart, and it still does. I remember watching him do interviews with David Letterman; it was gut wrenching. To this day it makes me cringe when mayonnaise people go to his concerts and talk about how great his music is and they don't even know the man I grew up with. I wanted to help him and let him know that it is okay to seek treatment for mental illness. But I was just a teenager from the south, from the outside looking in. 

Most recently I did go through and block any image or news article of him from popping up. It hurts to see and talk about it unless you know where I am coming from. Part of me knew that this is the same person who sat down on "Life and Rhymes of..." and blared Souls of Mischief on MTV. Could you imagined I used to get hilariously huge headphones and would put my head down, bopping until head bopped off my neck? I wanted to go to college even if I had registered late, dropped out, but I knew if I could do anything if Magic made it and graduate. 

I know everyone can't be saved and everyone isn't who you once thought they were. But this is family business; never in my life have I gotten angry at a cousin then never talk to them again. When I get mad at family, it is more intense and lethal because I love you there's an expectation expected out of you. Never in my life would I have a family member struggling and not help them. So if you know what I am talking about, understand it's that same energy to some of these celebrities I grew up with.

Just to serve as a reminder that it's okay to hate something but I feel as though you have to had at least loved it first. 

Just Don't Curse

She asked me if I wanted to move in with her. 

Move in with her

She asked me when I wanted to get married.

Getting married, getting married

She asked me if I wanted to have kids. 

Having kids, having kids, having kids

She wanted me to move in with her by September, get married in January, and have a kid or two on our honeymoon in Madrid. Two weeks after our my "Last of Us 2" party with Dee, Skeeter, and Skeeter's brother in an Applebee's. So I turned and did a whimsical glance to her forehead. And this is what I asked her in an unforgiving tone:

Why is my momma's cookin'  so tasty and delicious and everything yo' momma makes smells and tastes like chitlins and old collard greens,

Why y'all keep making slave biopics but won't feed my mule (ya' momma is the mule),

Why don't you support my dreams even though my dream is to have a dream about a dream,

Why is it weird to be normal but not normal to weird,

Why are people not as obsessed with their own self, there's so many cool things about you, 

Why did I run over 1,000 miles this year, just to always end back up at the same place I started,

Why can't I love myself like how Kanye Love Kanye,

Why is Chris Brown unable to function as decent human being,

Why do people eat grits when you can eat real, edible food for breakfast,

Why do people take out their earphones but still don't listen,

Why are people not allowed to get their fingernails painted and cry if they have a penis,

Why don't you got my back like Heromine had Harry's, Drake had Josh's, or Jim Carrey had Jim Carrey's,

Why use lots word when few words do trick,

Why do flies like the smell of poop,

Why are there always flies when I sit beside you while you watch "Big Bang Theory",

Why do you watch "Big Bang Theory",

Why does no one care about cornbread unless it's gentrified, 

Why do rappers lie in 85% of they rhymes,

And how come whenever you visit my momma, you always cursin'?

Why would I want to have a kid with you when I barely see you as it is, on any plane of existence, and I don't think a kid wants to smell like fish all their entire life.

And I was thinking about how can I have a bachelor part y if I am not getting married to you in January or February. Nor march. Nor the 21st night or day of September. 

And I am not moving in with you because your favorite artist is Jason Derulo. 

No one listens to Jason Derulo.

Blood On The Asics

Random thought: 

When I first created this blog, it was meant to be "an inspirational, motivational, moving masterpiece" of triumph and glee about running and exercising. Almost like "here's how to become a newer, more beautiful you; all you have to do is get on the treadmill!" headass, 

That was the whole concept of making a blog about running. Discuss running. Running has been one of my favorite things in the whole wide word. But me making a running blog is like asking Dennis Rodman to take off of of his piercings and not wear wedding dresses. Well let me explain:

Jamal and I have had numerous swapping of ideas that include err-thang; ranging from the those's to the that's and the what's. But one of the more awe-inspiring conversations have been of  the super radical notion "people never change" which I have always believed in, especially from Jay-Z's quote 'you can try to change but that's just the top layer, you was who you was before you got here' which has never left my noggin. Ever. And I'm paraphrasing.

By nature I am a compulsive, excessive Jonny, which someone may see from my running (I have ran 1,500 miles this year), costumes (I have over 7 full costumes and 8 wigs over the past 4 years), and whatever hieroglyphics one must decipher after reading my posts. And I think back to my youth, if I was the same spazzy, greedy kid in grade school. I can definitely remember me going out to run before the bus came to get me in middle school and building a basketball collection of over 2,000 cards and memorizing everyone's stats from '99-'07(yes, I sold it for $75 a year later to buy a Nintendo DS Lite).

So did I change at all? Do any of us change at all from childhood to adulthood to death-hood? Hmph.

I don't think I changed. I would say I mostly evolved or re-loaded. 

Figuring out in my early 20s that this is going to be me forever was a positive thing. For example, when I NEED something to be successful (the more assertive form of 'want') I will go out and get it. I knew I needed to pass the SATs so my go-lucky tail took it again two weeks later in high school and got a qualifying score to get into college; when I had hip pains a few years ago, I tried every doing yoga twice a day, 5 times a week and soaking in Epsom until I grew gills to alleviate the pain.

Reckon the thing is that you don't have to completely hack away your negative traits and throw them into a dumpster. Magikarp evolves into Garados, still the same basic water Pokemon. Just realize MAYBE that your traits you think or dope/not dope may lead you to being a serial killer or a wall street investor. Both the same thing, right? Just take your weaknesses and turn them to unique-esses. I totally stole that from a Rhett & Link video.

Yesterday's Fresh Grits

I think grits are overrated. It's just small pieces of cornmeal.

When Momma Mona cooked and fed it to me, I thought she had mistakenly given me raccoon food.

I thought "how could you make me eat this mother, why are you trying to poison your favorite son" I cried

I thought black boys who cry too much are too sweet but someone's son is in eternal slumber because someone THOUGHT they were too sour

I still think the confederate flag is racist and got boy my Till kill't. I used to go fishing at that river

I thought the water would save me but my eyes are still burning

I thought I was supposed to look up to my heroes but I'm like 6'7 in heels

I thought I could strut down the runway like Beyoncé and Vince McMahon

I think grits are overrated. It's just really tiny, small pieces of cornmeal. I honestly thought grits were grounded up horse hooves.

I don't know why rappers keep saying Tyler Perry is too sweet when he got ya' folks out of the unemployment line

I think black girl's thighs are so thick because they help carry black men like they are on the cast of 'Living Single'

I think you can go to church every Sunday and still have a therapist

I think it's funny to call white people mayonnaise or mayonnaise with olive oil if they coe from Italy or Spain.

I think it's okay to rap-a-long to Chief Keef on your morning commute to your 9-5

I think it's okay to be faithful and not be a Christian

I thunk, thinked, or thought we were supposed to arrest R. Kelly and boycott him but also arrest anyone who doesn't think '90s R & B is the best genre of music ever

I still think ramen noodles, lottery tickets, and Lucky Charms crippled the black community and my voice sounds like I make water casserole and my voice sounds like I ask little black boys if they live in this neighborhood and my voice sounds like I roll my windows up through an un-gentrified neighborhood but I love gentrified cornbread

And I'm still wondering if you gon' eat yo' cornbread

And I'm still wondering why people love kombucha so much it's just unflavored vinegar with bubbles

And I'm still wondering why people make me feel bad for not watching slave biopics

And I'm still wondering when Ari Lennox is going to reply back to DM

And, and, and--

And I still think grits are overrated. It's just really tiny small, itty bitty pieces of cornmeal. But I had put sugar and honey in them, it tasted okay. I would dot the sugar and make the eyes and the nose. I would drizzle the honey over it, capping off the mouth. And I would make it a picture of your smile, just like it was yesterday.

When you bring me out, can you introduce me as JODY

You asked me to tell you a story about what I know 

Stories about how to make cornbread moist and why I Listen to chief keef on the way to teach 12 years about ecology 

Well...

I know I never forgave you for stealing my lunchables from the 1st grade, 

I know I’m still half Black, half licorice 

I know her tinder profile said she is a mother of 4, But told her I’ll book the sitter since I already bought the 2 for $20 from Ruby Tuesdays 

I know I’m like Ye’; wish I could run across a beach and jump into my own arms,

I know I have a shade a field nigger, but where’s the sunscreen because I’m still not trying to get skin cancer 

I know I’m cut from elastic, long built like Mr. Fantastic 

I know tall Ethiopian women rule the world through tibs, honey wine, and coffee

I know niggas don’t give a fuck on what street I stay on,

I know I still giggle every time I say penis or doo-doo, 

I know the worth of 3 dollars and 6 dimes, call it knowledge, wisdom, and gumption

I know my momma and auntie worried about me but that’s why I keep sage, cocoa butter, and an Acts of Faith comp in a bedazzled Fanny pack 

I know my seat don’t roll back, 

I know the next shade of my skin isn’t black, it’s purple and that’s royalty 

I know Renny & Smiley love me, 

I know Jonny, Jon, and JODY still love me,

I know hugs from old black ladies who call me suga’ is the closest thing I’ll be to heaven on earth 

I know I cry too much for a heterosexual cis educated black man who grew up in the south. Air Bud is just a great movie 

I know I want to be a superhero and I just want my dog back

I know that players is quitters, JODY is Jon, I have more love than Jonny Bravos love for his mom, and gentrified cornbread is bomb

I Love You, Morris Brown

"Sometimes you gotta' move backward to go forward"

I wish I didn't remember that quote from a Lincoln car commercial but here we are in Decatur, Georgia. Me, you, and a shirtless Matthew McConaughey driving along some parkway listening to "Morris Brown" by Outkast.

I'm back in the south right now and I'm content yet flabbergasted. It was 2 weeks ago when I was pacing back and forth, irritated by own presence in a space. The Jons out of control, bacon was burnt like Michael Blackson, called sick out of work (ironic I actually had a bad case of diarrhea but intended on going to work anyways), and the rare instance of my palms being sweaty (mom's spaghetti).

I knew what was up; the same symptoms that came about in my exit from Norfolk. But here I was, trying to hold on to something that I loved but it was all lubed up, like a thing that excessively gets lubed up.

The Bundles of Jon could act out a 2-hour choreopoem, write a whole manuscript, conjure up a dissertation with works cited on why it was time to end my lease, job, and tenure from Colorado. I personally couldn't explain it using crayons and speaking perfect English in a one-on-one therapy session. I do think Jon could put it in the intuition category or some sort of primordial feeling.

Same urge when I moved from Milledgeville, Georgia immediately after college; Norfolk, Virginia after my break-up; and Denver, Colorado after my hiatus from teaching. But hey, I loved Colorado; my doggies, brunches, yoga, running, all of that jazz.

I told people every reason for the sudden leave. Too expensive, lack of emotional support, lack of good paying jobs (main indicator), etc.

Quite honestly I was also sad for multiple reasons. For all of those reasons and more. It is unfortunate I wasted a lot of people's time but my friend and family support in Georgia is unmatched. It's too overwhelming and consistent for me. My expectations for people are exceedingly high because they set the bar at that level. Vehicles have transported me to dozens of states and my legs have ran thousands of miles, I have met some folks and stayed in some places. And where did that lead me?

Back here,

Reckon I am upset because I thought I could build something out of some Popsicle sticks and crazy glue in Denver. Maybe some sort of infrastructure was manifested during my stay in the Rockies but not how I planned after two years. There is also the impatient piece; could be me not being diligent with the process of attaining (best) friends, high paying side gigs, and inner/outer peace. Which is what it came down too. Who knows the Greater Metro area of Atlanta may give me the same result. But at least my auntie and momma out here.

Of course they money aspect; if I stayed here any longer the money would literally be evaporated. And the hiatus from teaching had overcame all of my emotions. The luster of Denver had worn off like every other place I had lived. And it was time to make a decision even though it could have came earlier with jobs and my lease being up in May. All of that stuff is not difficult to handle. My friend did ask how was it being homeless and unemployed, which I believed that to be a huge slap in the face to everyone I know. No one is going to let me end of being homeless and penniless in Georgia, that would only happen on my own accord.

But I am motivated, a little nauseated and dizzy, hopeful. I will get back into teaching, pay off this substantial credit card debt, teach yoga at a studio, find some freggin' zen, and continue to make dope dancing videos.  Definitely a bump in the road but I know some folks who work for GDOT. It is time to build here for a little while and I am ready. If not, then I only got three words...

Somebody Gotta’Love The Spiritual Immaculate Hoodrats

Oh yes, absolutely. Here comes Jonny with some rhymes about some mild insecurities, infatuation with fat booties, and night runs around the city.

Oh real quick, as I mentioned before, my love language includes but ain’t limited to double gin & tonics, Running 10ks, and cosplays. Cool let me start my ramble,

I’m probably here to talk about how people have gentrified cornbread or how much I miss my momma’s sweet, SWEET cocoa butter kisses on my left cheek,

I did slip on a banana peel like I was an extra in an infomercial, I’m sure every actor/actress is an extra on informercials. Grabbed every invisible ropes I couldn’t 

Find. No wonder no one rarely finishes rainbow road. 

Uh, I kissed a boy 👨‍❤️‍👨

Nah, I ain’t like it 🙅🏾‍♂️

Well, I still hate Jordan Howard and when my dad cries.

Still gotta’ fetish for the spiritual hoodrat immaculate ratchets, but only when they don’t receive child support 

And known to tell other people’s kids to stop acting up in Public settings 

But I have to remind you that I was the Last Black Superhero in Willacoochee & Arvada, 

I’m still dropping science whilst others drop English,

I heard the call and culled the heard, paid the piper, pied the payers, became the player, but Chance said players are quitters 

And the bat signal doesn’t show up when the sky is clear but I’m pretty sure Woburn and Flint’s water supply is still burning,

And the dog is dead, the girl is gone, the chicken is unseasoned, and I’m sitting off of 16th and Colfax with my brother. Wondering why he always has mayonnaise on his lips. 

If I say I don’t give a shit, I give 100% of the shits.

And if I ever told you I love you, 

And if I save a love you, I do. I do, I do-oooo-ooooo. 

If I say I don’t I love you, I don’t.

And I believe in you, and you, and you. But not you.

And I believe in Jonny.