Take The Chicken Out The Freezer

Talking to myself like I am Nina Simone's Inner Nina Simone but also talking to myself like I am Carl Wheezer's inner Carl Wheezer

It's 2022 and I got 3 bags of Tostitos scoops and a maxed-out credit card to my name,

Complete with sweater vests and bass clarinets, like when I used to be asthmatic.

I had my first epiphany when I was 17 and I was like "I'm out here epiphanying"

Whether the name is Jon, JODY, Jonny, or Jonathan,

My words stutter and get twisted like I was a twizzler caught in a twister.

Being my authentic self, but not that way ya' weirdo

She half white, half latina so her name in my contacts is Sriracha Mayo

Complete with

Sweet shea butter kisses, tastes so good like some cornbread with the pig feets collard greens and the sweet, SWEET yams, I wanna' smack ya' Momma Donna

Watching Kung Fu Panda, crying like my Auntie when they first elected Obama,

Just a wee-bit narcissistic, so my haters wanna' turn me into a llama

Raised my voice like when my momma' told me "take the chicken out the freezer"

They say the universe works in mysterious ways, 

So I guess the boys chasing me down in their dad's lifted pick up truck is adding double XP to my character development, 

But all I wanted was some chicken nuggies and Rebecca Black on vinyl. And maybe world domination so I can student loans and take like 3,000 naps but

Seems like all I got was a broken knee, microaggressions, and a binder full of Pokemon cards.

Maybe you’re the one Morgan Freeman sent to me and I’m the man Tilda Swinton wanted me to be!

Just thought if there were a little more Spicy Nacho Doritos and a little less Cool Ranch Doritos, it would fix what is wrong and right in the world.

So 2.27 billion seconds I'm expected to be in this galaxy. Like Chuck E. Cheese tokens, gotta make them count, 

So I gotta' show up to show out to show off!

Now I may not be shit to you, but my momma' think I made it

So don't touch me, I'm famous,

How to Ineffectively Solve Conflicts with Cornbread

I wouldn't consider myself a pacifist. The need for me personally to resolve conflict with physical conflict is as rare as finding a Moltres or Articuno in the wild. Let's begin, 

I know people may argue that it is what wild beasts would do, as people stand around and watch two grown adults fight at a baseball game (hold the phone sideways to be professional.) but I am not sure. I don't want anyone to touch my mother or father or niece or brother or cousin or bowl of Tostitos but there are other things to do than to actually harm someone with your body parts. Which oddly enough, ends up hurting you normally.

It's just I have other stuff to do, ya' know? Like whenever I was younger and I was being bothered or teased and things got physical, it was easy to walk away. I had an Xbox and two loving parents in a home. A dog needed to be walked. Tostitos were waiting at home. If a fight were to manifest then I would get suspended. No Xbox. Get but whooped (so technically two times I get beat). Teachers would take me out of the "Student of the Month" awards. No gift card to KB Toys.

Whenever I got older and grew into my body and played sports, obviously it popped up. But using words was even more effective versus flinging a wild haymaker at someone's temple. "Sticks and stones" blah, blah, blah; words will forever and ALWAYS hurt me. What's mightier, the pen or the sword? The silver tongue laced with poison *chefs kiss* was developed throughout my childhood, even as I managed a speech impediment (shout-out to Ms. Faye!).

But also recognizing to always defend yourself. Most people have some sort of community. Whether it be personal or professional or platonic or what have you, someone looks to a person for love and commitment and support. Sometimes the homie needs you to opt-in or square up when there is conflict. There will always be conflict. There will never not be conflict. 

And that's house this life works. There's a problem and a solution happens. It may not be pretty at the end, but an end will come. Most of the time it is within someone's self. Like maybe the kids who bullied me during grade school were mad that they didn't have a father figure. Or Halo 3 on the Xbox 360. I am sorry your family's lights went off but please stop teasing me about playing the bass clarinet. I was All-District, 4th chair.

"You gonna' let him talk to you like that?"

"No! I am going to walk away, so I won't be able to hear him talk to me like that."

Again, I am the guy who will eat the food even if my order is wrong. But also the guy who will ask for a manager because they ran out of curly fries.

#knowyourworthking

 

Me, You, and Ya' Momma Pt.1

I always thought it was important to check in with yourself and what you need on a daily basis. Or at least weekly. I am fully aware of the minus and plus that come with living on Earth as a young black man in the United States of America with two college-educated parents. I understand that is not normal and as well. 

As a child, I would be holler out "Hey dad" and he would holler back "Yes, son" with that in itself being a big flex.

The privilege I have to check in on myself, as I have been doing subconsciously through my journals since around 3rd grade has been above all things, terrifying. I lived in the suburbs my entire childhood, and I remember being terrified even to go asleep. 

9/11 happened, what if it a plane runs into our house? The DC sniper, what if he is waiting outside for me? What if I have a heart attack from all of this soul food by the age of 12? What if I never make it into the Justice League?

The world is huge, massive yet the world in itself is tiny, bite-sized compared to everything else. When I listened to the words of Carl Sagan talking about being a speck of dust on a speck of dust scientifically speaking, what do you do? Where do you grow from at that point? How is someone who was afraid of any and everything, supposed to develop into a semi-functional human. 

Where did any sort of eternal sustainable happiness come about after so much self-conscious, degrading thoughts that were proven to be true when life hit as an adult.

Maybe it is when I got to college and started meeting folks. Maybe it was when I went to Alaska for a summer and was isolated. Or maybe it was between Me, You, and Ya' Momma.

The Off-Season

The Off-Season is upon us. Two months of recalibration, remediation, relaxation, recovering or what have you. It's a time not to be taken lightly as expired sweet peppers and avocadoes sit patiently in my vegetable drawer, waiting for me to take them out behind the barn to end their misery. I was going to throw them out and clean out my fridge during the winter, but I had to get disfectant spray on layaway on the Dollar Tree. I'm definitely taking time now to reevaluate my close personal and professional relationships. My social, emotional, physical, spiritual simulations, needs, wants, and desires. As soon as I left school today, I felt that exhale finally happen like I was Loretta Devine trying out new swimsuits after a BBQ. I did get through the last school year with a relative smoothness but still fell into my vices quite easily, as they tend to send out false vibrations, playing with my emotions. I feel like for every 1 vice I have (let's call them Tom Cruises), I need about 10-15 positive things (let's call them Bill Murrays) to only REDUCE the effectiveness of the Tom Cruises. Not eliminate, just reduce. And not doing those vices isn't very helpful because then there's a fear I'll fall back into them and just dive deeply into it more when I get back to that level. I always come back to them, like a deadbeat dad after their son makes it to the NBA. For example: Tom Cruises: Overeating, Overdrinking, Maintaining a failed relationship, Undersleeping, Overexercising, Over Social-Mediaing, Not Drinking Enough Water, Ignoring Warning Signs of Anxiety, Saying Yes, Stealing disinfectant spary from the Dollar Treem, Not expressing Needs from a relationship because it's "inconvienent" Bill Murrays: Eating vegetables, checking in with friends, Hydrating, Running, Yoga, Meditating, Listening to (informational) podcasts, Calling parentseekly, Keeping up with my sleep pattern, Burning incense or sage, Getting/receiving hugs, Making my bed in the morning, Petting dogs, Cursing positive affirmations at my plants, Saying No, Writing this blog that only my mom and Dee reads, Listening to Hans Zimmer when I am doing mundane activities, Dancing awkwardly around people I love, High fiving people until their hands hurt, Making up secret handshakes with people, Knowing when to go home, Performing entries from this blog only my mom and Dee reads, (TBC) And I feel it more, ya' know? I feel this over indulgence as I round to my 28th birthday, I feel the uneasiness of it all. It's there and always ready to serve to medicate me but I needed to meditate. Yes there's Jon, Jonny, JODY, and Jonathan but there is really only one Jon. And I need to take care of him, I need to take care of me. Whether I am wearing a wig or not. And damn that fridge needed to be cleaned out so long ago So how does the Off-Season going to effect my Tom Cruise-Bill Murray conundrum this year? It won't unless I sent some intentions soon. Like right now. I think it's important to see everything from the lense on how it effects not only other people but me. It's all about me when it comes down to it. I came into this world with my parents, a brother, probably some white dude slapping me on sight, and oversized heads. But ultimate-ultimately I was alone. And I will die alone. My intro and outro. But that middle, juicy, meaty part between those things is where I get excited. I'm overworked, overanxious, underslept, sometimes more sad than not but I am here with a lot of joy and a lot of faith, which I need to extend to myself. I am and will continue to turn up. I don't have a choice in the matter. But I need to breathe. I need to slow down and be with myself and in this sh*t or I'm never going going to attain the 5th and final Jon. #savethetostitos

10 Things I Hate About Jo(h)n P.

I am one of those people from my childhood that secretly hope their bullies are slightly inconvienced for the rest of their lives. I am one of those people from their childhood that would be too afraid of thunder and lightning and go sleep in their brother's bed then went the bed. I am one of those people from their childhood that only believed in two main ideas: hate and fear. Everything else was secondary or tertiary. Love, faith, friends, family, hot pockets, education, bass clarinet, video games were the foundation of my life back then but the feelings . Well based off of my childhood journals, that is how I came to this conclusion. My childhood journals started when I was 7 and I wrote in different ones, on and off until now. It seemed liked I was afraid that people would not like me so I would bake them goodies, help them with classwork, play with the one kid no one cared about, etc. From my writings it seemed like I did not enjoy these tasks, at least as the intentional way I do them now. I also despised the way people seemed to hate one another, it seemed like a waste of energy. Hearing my family argue, hearing how much people do not like each other, hearing kids from my childhood call me any name they could think of. Reading through my journals I, like I do but not so much now, try to find a reason behind everything. "Why would they do something that I told them that makes me feel bad over and over again?" Jo(h)n P. wasn't the meanest person I encountered during my childhood but the most consistent. From 3rd grade to 9th grade, he found some way to make me, his 'friends', his teachers, and his own family feel bad. I remembered he would do these awful things and I would read everyone's reactions to his actions. They were just...disappointed. Like when he stole my bike and blamed it on his little brother and I had to go to his house and ask his mom for it back. When he would make my 8th grade World Studies teacher roast because he would not stop talking during tests. Being the first person to call me the 'n' word and being the only person I have attempted to punch outside my family. I am not in the energy to dwell on things and somehow also not the one to forgive people. Me and him had the almost identical titles and he was making me look bad. Whether it be running XCountry or living in the same neighborhood or being in the same classes or being in the same band, why would I ever accept mediocrity from someone Jo(h)n? So being the healthy adult human man I am at the age of 27, I take all of those childhood insecurities and negative energy and put it to a ball of rubberbands and put it as my foundation. All of the laughs and cries and police harrassment and miles ran and cocoa butter kisses and matchmaking on Halo 3, I through it into who I am, put some soil on it and use it to help me grow. Along with Jo(h)n P. Without him I wouldn't have learned how to manage energy or deal with growing emotions or interact with humans who are hollow casts. I am not going to be able to eliminate those terrible things that happen but I can remember how many wonderful things came out from being bullied and harrassed in my childhood. Maybe fear and hate do not motivate me quite as much but it still there. Without him or Thomas B. or Edward P. I would be this big mass role of cotton candy all fluffly and naive. Now I am just cornbread,

New-New-New Apartment (rough draft)

I remember quite a few years talking to this lady in her later 'teens, flying from Denver to Atlanta. It must've been 2am in the morning, multiple flight delays, I was hungry. I had done my pre-flight stretches (I always sit 'Econ' on Frontier/Spirit) and was more awake than someone that wakes up in the morning who had synced their circadian rhythm. And she was kind of cute.

She discussed how godawful and terrible her life had been growing up in the prestigious Oak Hills, Nashville in her young adult life, drugs to drugs, men to women, moving from place to place, home to home, and ruining anyone's life who allowed her too including her loving parents, she admitted. But she claimed to have repent and finally settle in the rehab, for good this time. I asked her how many times she moved during from the time of her birth until now. She said 15. She asked me. I said 21.

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The transition to Norfolk, Virginia to the metropolitan area of Denver, Colorado was the most gentle transition one could have. Leaving my high-paying job, destroying any chance of having a decent relationship with my ex, running up my credit card, not having any place permanent place to stay, and of course no job. It was probably the most important move of all. It was the only place I wanted to move to when I was in college, besides Atlanta. But I had and still have 200% faith that it needed to happen. I began to perfect my yoga practice, had free reign to run any and every time in the city, and I lived in one home for over a year, the longest time spent in once place since I was 14. But during my time in the midwest the details could have been more tight. Leaving my suitcase out in the middle my bedroom was psychologically breaking me and the inability to just go over someone's house and do nothing was heavy a strange yet relevant uneasy feeling. Everyone was "on-the-go" and it seemed like I made 100 associates for activities and 2-3 actual friends, who honestly had left or talked about leaving. 

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Conyers, Georgia to San Antonio, Texas was (is, right?) found me in a move strictly to achieve my professional goals as an educator. It was the first time moving and having no desire to move. Georgia was and is my home, and I wouldn't have known if I never left for those 4 years. I rekindled and maintained friendships as well. Honestly it's not about where you live, it's only about who you're with. Plenty of times I exclaimed I would have stayed in Denver if a few friends and family were in the area. But the few months in Georgia, there was no reason that I didn't have to leave but plenty of reasons to leave. It's nerve-racking because this is the first area ever where I know absolutely no one and we are in a freggin' pandemic. But if someone offers you graduate school and a job then... 

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Chester, Virginia to Norfolk, Virginia. First full-salary job. First time not backing down (professionally) from bullies. First apartment. First time getting a gun drawn on me. First serious relationship. My early 20s was a world-wind, mostly spiking in the area of the Hampton Roads. The 757 showed me literally what not to do in any sort of setting. The way I carried and conducted myself in that area was nowhere near the attitude or standard of any other area in my life. Everything seemed to be right in my face; whether it be bugs, my student's mothers, poverty, racism, lack of synergy. I never could fit in and build anything there. It was such a polarizing community and it made me wayward. I was going on a run and had to keep circling one block because the surrounding areas got me shook. My relationships with the people I loved made me feel comfortable sometimes but that place ate me alive and left me as crumbs. I hated the socioeconomic aspect of 757, even more than Hannibal Burress. 

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But out of the dozens of places I moved, I've always appreciated the time and effort of living in those spaces. Moving to Texas also includes its firsts as well, but hopefully it'll include some lasts.