MNR: MAMA I WANT TO SING

MNR: Mama I Want to Sing

I’m literally sitting here in midst my daily By Myself meeting, vibing. Regular shit. Music and aromatics. Good music. Sweet aromatics. Both LOUD. I usually have my blog topics ironed out and ready the night before, just like whatever uniform I’ve chosen to wear the next work day. Sadly, I broke a cardinal law I preach to my young men every single day: never let your problems/concerns/drama/bullshit take away from your task/craft/work. I let a situation from last Friday completely dominate my free and uninhibited thoughts. I try to save those types of thoughts for greatness, not fuckery. But hey, I love my beef fully cooked. Some things I just cannot met slide. I’m relentless. But that’s no excuse for not properly pre-gaming. For that I apologize. But I’ll do my best to make it up to you as I go along. Lean back in your E-Z Chair, adjust the ambient light, twirl one of those left hands, and just max. And when I take it there, you just add on. I don’t know WTF Raekwon meant when he said that, but I have an idea. It’s was fly either way. Anyways...Leggo.

I’ve really been trying my best to adjust my attitude and find my inner happiness these days. Even with all the loss I’ve incurred in the last 1.5, I can’t use it as an excuse to be depressed and mad at most of the world. Furthermore, I cannot keep letting the loss of one of my jobs and all the madness of its aftermath hurt me any longer. Things change. Loyalty is greatly undervalued in the marketplace these days. I understand. So, just like my baby girl Mya, I’m moving on. On. On. Onnnn. I’ll be moving on. My Lord has me. He always has. And I’ve been broke since 9.10.1978. Ain’t nothing changed but the drawz. I’m #eastside strong. And trouble don’t last always. A century is only a matter of time. I’m stronger than ever. Deadass.

Having said all that...
This past weekend, my faith was challenged in every conceivable way. It began with me getting into some shit defending this thing of ours, this Crew UnB thing of ours. We’ve put blood, sweat, and years into this. I defend any and every thing I believe in through death. A man has to have a code. I had to show restraint rather than hurt someone’s grown ass child. But...that’s a matter of discussion for another time and another place. I know what I’m capable of. Currently, I’m living by Exodus 14:14 on that issue. Another time, another place. So then there’s the money thing. I’m totally trying to see this thing through with complete and absolute positivity. Every penny counts. It just so has it that I got a text telling me one of my gigs is on hold for like three weeks. Three entire weeks. Whatever. I can’t put cheese on it this week. Or the next. Or the next. I don’t need cheese anyway (thanks Mr. Garrigó for the dietary plan). And I caught a cold from one of you mutants. Damn you. And to top it off, I ain’t get any cutty. All damn weekend. (Sighs)

Now, normally all this mixture of woe is me gumbo woulda sent me into a legendary implosion. It probably woulda involved a couple of my loved ones having to check on me to see if I did a Greg Louganis 1/2 Twist Pike off the GWB into the Hudson. I probably woulda alienated myself from a couple of people I care deeply about for an indefinite period of time. I probably woulda gotten superhero high. Dummy, dummy high. Yao Ming high. Telephone pole wires high. But I held fast. Hebrews 11. The entire chapter. I kept a smile as I decided against an Uber and got my slimming but still fat ass on public transit. I praised Him all weekend (even though I didn’t make the church house) and never allowed all the negative thoughts to invade my beautiful mind. I stuck my chest out a bit further. I acknowledged that it may get even tougher before I’m out of my Job season. And I continued to smile. Shareon well prepared me. The Lord fortified me. I’m strong enough to carry the 100 and 200 Blocks on my back.

This blog was all about me. For once in life. Thank you all for your time.

theunbearablescrew.com
tymonday.com

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY. I LOVE YOU. I’M ON TASK. 10.17