Letter To My Son

To my son,

Only time will tell if this letter will be applicable.  If my destiny sees fit, you will be created as a product of genetics, my love, and my dreams.  It is at this time in my 21 years of being under these stars that I have chosen to reach out to you and share the lessons I have learned.  Not doing so would be irresponsible on my part.  Depending on the age that you begin to fully comprehend these words, you will realize that all the lessons I teach you presently and in this letter will be feeble if seen in a dark room.  In addition, you will know that all lessons cannot be learned by spoken word.  Rightfully so, you will challenge the limits of this societies so call standards.  As your father, I will fear for your consequences, but, as my son, I trust you will lay gravel for your own dirt road of your standards of magnanimity.  Even as I type this letter to you I find it very difficult to choose what to tell you and what you should find out on your own.  I guess this is what parenthood really is. 

While I write to a son that I have yet to create, I find pointless to give you the numbers to life’s everyday Sudoku puzzle.  If our futures are meant to collide, I will gladly show you the strategy of filling in each box.  That’s a guarantee.  Instead, I will give you the clues to your daily crossword puzzle of manhood.  Take heed to them but also recognize that as this letter, I am also not perfect. 

With that being said, across 15 is simple.  You will struggle.  At this point in my life, I have come to the revelation that the distress I’ve endured have made the beautifully tattered man writing this letter.  Only time will tell how far this tattered soul will get me but I have high hopes.  The cliché that I have created in my time is -No Struggle.  No Identity- meaning that when something you do becomes part of who you are, expect struggle.  At the same time, do not seek struggle to validate your existence, but don’t stray from it either.  As your father, I will shield you from all the agony targeted for you as long as I can.  As time progresses, with the disapproval from my own psyche, I will remove the plastic from life’s couch and let you experience its stains and abundant opulence.  Because you are my son and I am my father’s son and he a son of his father, you will be able to rid of the stains without ruining the material and handle the abundant opulence without getting stuck in its settling nature. 

Speaking of lineage, you come from a long line of proud Brown men.  The funny thing about pride is it can be the greatest advantage while also being your greatest disadvantage.  Imagine a disease that gives you unlimited strength but kills you a little bit faster every time you use it.  Pride has killed a lot of men.  You will need to find the balance between the destructive pride and the advantageous pride. 

Down 22 is a more difficult clue for me to give insight on because I have yet to figure out the word myself.  Let love be your conscience.  Try not to accede to hate and mistrust consuming you.  As you grow intellectually, you will notice that certain things will be uncontrollable in your eyes.  When the anger and lack of control are mixed in your heart, you get a martini of hate with olives made of despair.  Then you will begin to stagger away from the ones who have invested love in you.  Your speech of peace will begin to slur.  Your memories of happiness will fade away.  And one morning you will wake up from your intoxication with a lonesome induced hangover.  Your father has been drunk many times but my 12 step program is in full effect. 

I do not know if I should give you across 2.  I could force upon you the lessons about who you are as a black man or let you learn these lessons painfully.  You may ask why but as your life progresses, you will answer that same question.  What I will say is do not be ashamed of who you are and what you came from.  I cannot predict the obscure future of our people.  Yes, our people.  Treat them as such.  The rest you will figure out on your own.

Lastly, down 44.  A day will come when you learn that fiction is not true.  Most people say that this knowledge is the first step into the “real world.”  At first this pseudo-truth will hinder you and make your outlook on life mauve.  This “real world” they speak of is a product of their despair created by the energy they used to stop chasing their dreams.  You can live in a life of pure imagination, and as my favorite song quotes “There is no life I know that compares to pure imagination.”  I say even the most fantastic things are true.    Throughout this entire letter I have chosen not input my experiences and demand you of anything because I recognize that you will live your own life.  Right now, I will not become victim to the fallacy that by telling you and that.  Instead I say, mess up and learn.  But, if I am to make one demand of you it is to not stop chasing your dreams for they are the only things keeping us away from the ground.

Resisting Gravity,

Your father, Bryant Brown

Pen Pals: Respons from my Proffesor.

Bryant:

I am heartened by your sensitivity to the plight of our people.  I think partly what you are feeling is the fire that wells up in us because of the obvious injustices we experience.  Be assured that this is not a bad thing.  You can mold your sensitivities into a lifetime of service, of giving so that good can become more real.  But you must not allow your sensitivities turn into a lasting anger and hate, because this can lead you to engage in unproductive thoughts and actions.  White racial domination is an odious phenomenon that predictably drives far too many of us to an array of self-destructive behavior.  Indeed, it is one of the natural outcomes of it.  We have to rise above it, however.  Richard Hatcher, elected mayor of Gary, Indiana in the late 1960s, use to implore us to get smart and not mad.  This was a lesson his father taught him when he was in the midst of the Black revolt of the 1960s.  Like you, I am ever outraged about White injustices, especially police beatings and killings.  See my article, "The Logic of Black Urban Rebellions," in the Journal of Black Studies (January 1998), where I explain that Black uprisings are one category of political response to injustices experienced by urban Blacks.  The talents and genius you have, find a way to use for rectifying some of the problems we have.  At the heart of Fanon's observation is just that, for us to rise above self-absorption (i.e.; individualism) to make ourselves relevant to the quest for liberation and social justice.  I hope this little bit is helpful.

 

Best.

Daryl Harris

I Dream of Detroit

I dream of words unwritten;
      In a language where periods need not be dotted
      Where “t’s” need not be crossed-
I dream of dialects unspoken;
      In a voice enunciation need not to be stressed,
      Where infliction is definitions-
Sight through subconscious is unfathomed to the minds eye
Leaving dreams to be safe from
For what can one feel in the absence of a body?
The lack there of? Or the presence of obscurity?
I dream of music unplayed;
      In a sound only heard through script,
Where distance articulates quality-
I dream of things unseen and not to have happened;
      Retention is a curse, and the forgotten is blessed-
But as I rise from once was;
      I’ve lost it all-
I dream of words unsaid;
      Cursed by memory.
      Decided through ignorance.

Excuse Me House Nigga

It is important to realize and comprehend that slavery is over. I, in no way, approve of the tactics nor execution of slavery but as in those times, there are two basic types of blacks; house niggas and field niggas. Since slavery, in the physical sense, has ceased to exist in America, it is also very vital to know the definition of a house nigga or a field nigga is not solely defined or characterized upon skin tone, but rather, more importantly, ways of thinking.

According to W.E.B. Dubois, each and every black person has a dual conscience; black and American. In the American conscience, blacks have concerns, considerations, and pride for being an American. In the black conscience, blacks have concerns, considerations, and pride for being black/ descendent from enslaved Africans. Basically, your conscience mind fights over which conscience to follow; culture vs. the establishment. For the sake of the length of this argument, the establishment will be considered your American conscience and your black conscience will be black culture.

A house nigga, in these times, is an individual of the black Diaspora who values the establishment over black culture. For example, a house nigga carries an umbrella on a sunny day to prevent themselves from getting darker because American society says the lighter you are, the more socially acceptable you will be. A house nigga is so caught up in chasing equality that they overlook their own people’s potential supremacy. A house nigga determines beauty from the standards of American society instead of finding beauty in their own culture. A house nigga is offended by the word nigga because they truly believe and live by the standards and definitions of American society. A house nigga has forgotten the 4 girls in Birmingham, a house nigga neglected the events in Jena, a house nigga doesn’t care about Derrion Alberts.

I write this not to change you of your ways. I write this to offend you. If you are offended consider yourself a house nigga. Instead of anger, find the closest field nigga and ask them what you must do to be saved.

As a field nigga, I inherently love all blacks and could care less about the establishment, but the fact that I walk the halls, sit in classes, live, and eat next to stubborn house niggas is going to kill me faster than the U.S. governments many attempts. Ladies and Gentlemen, I go to school with house niggas. If you don’t believe me, check out the bleaching crème in the bookstore.

Sacrifice

How much are you willing to sacrifice for your convictions? Friendship?....Money?... Love?,,,, Social acceptance?....Life?.... When entering into new spectrums and facets of life, one must ask themselves the aforementioned question. If not, one will never truly experience what the new facet and spectrum of life has to offer completely. If you truly believe in something and hold that something to be right, than in theory, nothing should differ you from practicing in what you believe in. The question that now arises is “how much are you willing to sacrifice for that belief?” In you asking yourself that question, two major actions should arise in the intellect of your mind. Your first response would be to automatically answer the question, but the deeper meaning of the question is for you to question your convictions. “No struggle. No Identity.” This statement that I live by is not exclusive to physical struggle, but inclusive to the emotional and intellectual tug-o-war that occurs in your mind about your convictions.

For example, in order to become more independent from societies silly standards, I refuse to wear matching socks purposely. Oddly but expectantly, I gained a lot of criticism for my choice to not wear matching socks. My emotions told me I did not have to endure such scrutiny over socks, but my intellect told me bear the pain and follow my own ethics. (I am not stating that your emotions are always wrong, but in this situation, they are.) In law, most cases are decided through analogous precedent; meaning that there was a case similar to the one being decided and that the decision in that case can be implemented in future cases. In reference to my socks, which may sound silly to you, if I gave up on this small conviction, this small ethic code, what else will I give up for the acceptance of society. According to law, if I quit socks for social acceptance than I quit religion for social acceptance; I quit racial passions for social acceptance; I quit being who I am for social acceptance. Hence, I am willing to sacrifice social acceptance for this conviction because I am willing to sacrifice social acceptance, at the least, for all of my said convictions and beliefs.

Though this is a small faction of my life, it is a microcosm of my personal beliefs. When upon reflection of your own beliefs, know that the strength of your convictions are based upon what you are willing to sacrifice.

MIA

I am from which I was created. Do not judge me on my exterior for it is made with flaws. Instead, judge the actions I accent with the words I write. But the words I write do not reflect the action I do. Just as any other human being, I make mistakes everyday. As I said before, what good is a man who contradicts his own efforts.

At that point, I was talking on the vitality of effective leadership. A more personal issue ha arisen. I fear I have lost my best friend because she is exactly what I am becoming; heartless. It is obvious that my emotions are gradually slipping out of my grasp. My walk is more stiff. My speech is lees motivating. My writings are less powerful.

I stated in an earlier blog that I am trying to get back to the man I used to be, but as a wise woman told me, "Make sure that man you are attempting to be is worth getting back to." But he is not worth it. Honestly, I have caused too many tears and see many more awaiting me as I travel down this path. The question is "Do I cause tears for others or carry on to my own emotional demise?"

I am from which I was created. My father's father's father was known as a man of great motivation. As they say in my father's hometown, these motivational tactics have only grown through the generations of Browns. As you know, I am BeMoBrown meaning exactly what it says. I follow a lineage of greatness and I am in constant strive for the highest. But in this 20th year of my life, I fear that I am becoming exactly what I demise the most. Heartless.

Coherence

I miss how your rhymes intertwined with my thoughts.
Feeling like a grown man with his hand in the cookie jar and finally got caught,
My heart beats fast from fear,
Knowing not the extent of your consequence;
I struggle with appreciative mistakes or humble repents.
I feel the swell of my intelligence,
A tingle from my inner sense feels the familiar texture again.
Poetry has called my name.
Ignorant to your purpose, I grow proud;
Knowing the journey to this conclusion will bring me joy.
From which I am powered is to which I question.
Seeking answers for only the dumb can speak.
And it is the right of the blind to see the dreams that dreams dream of,
For the deaf to hear the music my internal rhythm dances to.
Your are the equation, the solution, and anomaly,
My greatest Enigma

Defying Gravity/20 years

A wise man once told me that when we’re young we think we’re immortal but it is when we get old, we realize or mortality and become afraid. Well here it is, the day I celebrate 20 years of defying the laws of gravity and I am far from afraid. I am anxious. I have never feared death because my religious socialization has taught me that this physical body is only the beginning of something great. I am anxious because I am ready to answer my calling. My religion teaches me that God has given each of us a purpose, a calling, a dream to chase, and a dream to actualize. I do not know every religion, and I’m not here to sell you mine, but to a certain extent, everyone believes that they are on this earth for a certain reason.

As I sat in church today, I watched the preachers preach, I saw the shouters shout, I ignored the nay-sayers nay-say, and I dwelled upon my purpose. I am Moses. In my religion, God is a God of the disenchanted, the disenfranchised, the minority, and the unspoken for. In Exodus, these people are the Hebrews. In my home of America, these people consist of black people. Moses was not born of the Hebrew slaves for God wanted him to see the freedom the Hebrews, Moses’ people, could enjoy. I was not born onto the slaves for the same reason. Moses had faith that God’s word would lead him to free his people. I hope that God’s word will shine through these words to free my people. Moses realized his purpose, answered his calling, chased his dream, and actualized that dream. In case you didn’t know, this is the realization of my purpose, my preverbal phone rings and this is the answer to my calling, I ignore gravity so that I am in constant pursuit of my dreams. Moses freed his people through the word of God. The Apostles and Prophets that followed him lead his people to God. I will free my people, not from physical slavery in which we have abolished, but from the bars of this jail that are made by the slave inferiority complex complicated by the prison-industrial complex that disproportionally effects my people, the disenchanted, the disenfranchised, the minority, and the unspoken for and inspire those who follow me to lead my people to greatness.

This anxiousness comes to now avail because as in death, with age comes the exponential growth of passion. And as long as there is an atom of oxygen running through my pumping heart, I will not stop, I will not turn my back, I will not fear old Pharaoh, I will denounce the injustices of the enchanted, the franchised, the majority, and the self spoken for. With God on my side, WHOM shall I fear? So, I encourage you to realize your purpose, answer your calling, chase your dreams, and actualize those dreams regardless of differing religion, race, cultural background, social façade, age, socialization status, political party, or opinion. With 20 years behind me, who will join this defiance of gravity?

Ice Cream Daze

I live in a world where thuds from a passing car’s subwoofers play the bass and sirens from rushing emergency vehicles play the treble in the soundtrack of my life. A world where beauty is most often found in death and despair’s residence: a funeral, but conversely, a world where deceit and depression are conceived where fake smiles and forced tears live: a wedding. A world that is filled with individuals who live and die by their own various ethics and morals but the easiest combination of variation is negligence. And since by human nature we all want things to be easier to some degree, one could say the world doesn’t give 5¢ worth of shit about anyone else. I know you’re saying, “Damn this guy is depressing!” but secretly, you agree. As a child of maybe up to 12 years old, I could never remember thinking these thoughts. So what happened?

The same world existed when I was child if I think retrospectively, but to my youthful senses, there was one sound that cut through the noise of despair and depression, one sight that could blur out the sight of emergency and broken hearts, and one taste that would numb out the flavor of uneasy laughs matted by tears. That sound, sight, and taste was Mr. Johnson’s ice cream truck in the summertime. When the sound of those trucks bells and squeaky tires registered with the signals in my brain, my impulse was always to get up, run, and chase that truck. I’m guessing that as a child I never realized the world for what is was because I was too busy chasing after what I wanted.

When those hot summer days ended and warm school days began, I had the education of my logical brain to keep my senses distracted from the truth of the world. But somewhere through this education, my ears finally heard, eyes finally saw, and tongue finally tasted what was really going on. My mother calls this my welcoming ceremony to the real world. Again thinking retrospectively, I always thought the real world was completely comprised of people who woke up early, put on business attire, got stuck in traffic, complained about traffic, work in a boring office, had meetings, got stuck in traffic coming home, complained about traffic, complained about unhappiness, washed, rinsed, and repeated. In that aspect, I still think like the 8 year old me. I don’t want to be in that real world. I wanna chase after that ice cream truck all day. To you real world people, this probably sounds ridiculous but if we all chased after what we really wanted, maybe the world would sound, look, and taste better. With that being said, chase after your own truck in hope that you catch it and embrace it.

My Chucks Are Dirty

What good is a man who undermines his own leadership? Mistakes are unavoidable. Is it a waste of time to challenge the very things that you helped create? The answer to that question does not depend on the situation. If one creates chaos and passionatlty fights for peace, does he not contradict his own efforts? As a so called free thinker, I look at these situations and withhold judgment and see the situation for what it is.

For instance, Dave Chappelle says his comedy was a way to eliminate stereotypes through humorous situations but, that aspect of his passion drove him away from his work because he generated those stereotypes as well. He dedicated his passion to eliminate what he was creating. Is he a bad leader for this? His downfall was no one takes a comedian serious. I do not blame him for his inevitable mistakes.

The controversial "Read a Book" music video was creating and destroying negative messages at the same time. Was the artist contradicting his own message? I do not blame him for his inevitable mistakes. His downfall was no one takes black culture serious.

What good is a social revolutionary that seeks to make his/her culture the same as other cultures? They passionately fight to be up to par with general society's standards. Are they hypocritical to their own efforts? Again, I do not blame them for their inevitable mistakes.

What good is a general who causes anarchy amongst his troops? What good is a man who undermines his leadership? A man who undermines his leadership with contradicting actions is still a good leader if and only if the leader recognizes their flaws and attempts to fix them. Certain mistakes are unavoidable. I have made mistakes and a few of them were avoidable. So to continue my efforts in leadership I press on and lead others away from their avoidable mistakes. I do not condone my mistakes but if a true leader is one who is perfect, I am no leader. In that case I am Wall-E, Forrest Gump, Benjamin Button, or Shrek. I have no legacy of greatness but my kindness to humankind will lead to the drastic change of this society. Fortunately I make mistakes and in learning from these mistakes, I am in Repair.

Awaken

[insert name],
While you sleep, while your mind slowly slips into the unconscious, while your psyche forgets about the present reality and you wonder aimlessly within your dreams, someone thought of you. These thoughts are ones of sincerity and affection. Before these words made contact with this processed tree, the creator laid out a plan that made an impact on at least one. This letter makes no attempt to express the sappy emotional connection between two people that others call love for; the feelings of the writer do not reflect these emotions. But as my favorite saying goes “Who knows your feelings like your actions?” In other words, fulfilling your wishes requires neither genie nor fairy god-parent but simply acting. As you wake and as your mind painfully eases itself from the sometimes confusing subconscious, realize that you are a child of God and were meant to do great things. All that being said, continue your day with excellence and be relentless in chasing your dreams for they are the only things that keep you away from the ground.



Resisting gravity,



Bryant Brown

Beautifully Spoken

I went to church on Sunday and my overall standpoint was confusion. After studying and hearing many lectures on the black church last semester, I went with a new outlook and understanding. The black church was created during the era of slavery as a way to spread culture and social understanding throughout the enslaved Africans and the so-called new Americans. It was in these initial groups that blacks became socially and politically conscious. As time continued, the social gatherings became more than sneaking out at night to meet with others and developed into a more organized structure in which religion was practiced. As I sat in church, I could see how the origins of the black church are still practiced in the black church today. All types of black folk gathered in this church house to fellowship and share cultural and political ideas with one another. From talks to how to make cornbread fluffier to heated arguments about individual’s political fundamentals, I was amused and elated to see that in this structural compound our ancestors’ effort were not lost. Beautiful music was played as people rejoiced and praised the God they worshiped with no fear of prosecution or social judgment. The tears nearly came to my eyes when I realized that the ones that came before me were, at one point, happy because in this place, this house of worship, blacks could be themselves.

But on this Sunday, I heard a sermon that bothered me. The minister preached and made a point stating that blacks should change their language patterns in order to be more successful in the modern world. To me, this is a message of assimilation. Since I claim to be a free thinker, I sat down and thought about the minister’s point. In this world there are things that are socially acceptable and culturally acceptable. On the other side, there are things that are socially unacceptable and culturally unacceptable. All this meaning that there are certain things one can do it their culture that are not socially acceptable and there are things one can do in society and are not culturally acceptable. When pertaining to blacks, there are some things that blacks do within their culture that are not acceptable to American society's culture and there are things blacks can do in American society and is not accepted in their culture. One of those things is the use of broken English, slang, or Ebonics. According to society, by using this broken English you are lowering your standards and your social status. In essence, society's impression of you is low. This minster says blacks should change their culture from speaking broken English to speaking perfect English in order to fit in with the rest of society and be socially acceptable.

As my mother taught me a long time ago, in many situations, there is a time and a place for everything. When one wants to sound intelligent one speaks intelligently. Does this mean your English must be perfect? In my opinion, no. As a black, you have to know to play the game. The black culture does not hold the majority in American social culture. Therefore, we can not expect everyone to understand the English language we have adapted. When we go into different situations, we speak different ways. This does not mean we discard that part of ourselves entirety in order to fit in with he American society culture. This minister bothered me because he argued that in order for blacks to come off as intelligent to the majority, whites, we must change our language and assimilate it with the majority. The way blacks speak is full of passion and emotion and while it may not be textbook, it is beautiful. Take into consideration I am not talking about all blacks. I am merely speaking to the ones who defy society and choose to embrace ebony phonics.

In an intuition in which blacks, historically, can be themselves this minister tells me I should not. He tells me to conform and forget a part of who I am. He oughta be shamed of himself.

Mr. Morton

"I'm tired payin taxes, sendin emails and faxes, tired of crooked cops, tired of black folks complain that crime wont stop. I wanna go to a place where lovers go, do the things that lovers do, no stress, a sweet caress from me to u."

It's been a long time since I actually attempted to pursue a young lady that was worth my time and actually reached my standards. The time has come where I have met such a woman. Now, I'm baffled at how to handle this situation. I going to be blunt, I have failed many times in these types of situations, many times.
Needless to say I'm trying really hard not to fuck this one up. The problem is I keep second guessing myself. I don't wanna creep her out by talking too much and at the same token I don't want to not talk and make her think I'm not interested, cause I am. It's been a long time since I've had to do this. Maybe, I should just be myself. Problem is myself is the same person that was fucking up in the past. I know she should like me for me but it's all about presentation. Sometimes I wish I was Mr. Morton:


But then again, I'm a man. I already know the pains of rejection. I mean how much worse could it really get. I have learned, while under these stars, that life is nothing if you have no one to share it with. I'm far from desperate or in need of a woman to complete me. But sometimes, I wish I had someone waiting for me when I got back to my dorm or someone I could chill with in a romantic setting. Friends can only do so much. I am nowhere near lonely ,but a female companion would be real nice. That is all I ask for.

Villiain

What makes me different from most people is a sense of ruthless aggression towards a given passion. I will die over something that I am strongly passionate about. There lies the inquisitive ultimatum. If I am to have this ruthless aggression for something I think is right and society thinks is right then that makes me a hero. I would be on the lines Superman, Batman, The Hulk, Spiderman, The Fantastic four, or even Aquaman. BUT, if I were to fight for something that is right to me and wrong to society, then that would make me a villain. I would be in the league with Lex Luthor, The Joker, The Abomination, The Green Goblin, Dr. Doom, or the Black Manta. I am at a crossroads of my life. I have always felt that with my hands and my mind, I have the power to change the world. The thing that frightens me a little is the oh so important decision between heroism and villain.
Now looking at the two different classifications from a narrow mind, I can see the vast difference between the two. One does good and one does evil. But is evil not an aid to good. I'm no devil worshiper, but Satan brings a lot of people into the light of The Lord. Think about it, people of the church blame all bad things on the devil and the temptations that the devil offers. In response to those temptations, they turn to The Lord. I am a proud Christian. I know that whenever the devil tempts us, we turn to God. So is there really an evil or a socially unaccepted or an unattractive hero? With evil, good would seem unimportant.
What bothers me is my ignorance of what society says. That makes me more of a villain. Honestly, I'll take being a villain towards ignorance. A mere mortal powered by the creator of the yellow sun. Sent from the heavens to rid this world of its problems. Future is unknown, present is apparent, past is an instructional manual. Brown. Damn it feels good to be unattractive.

Going On

Have you ever considered that you are a role model even if you do not think you're being noticed? After watching this amazing video, I have noticed that in every action a person takes another person is waiting to emulate that person. If you claim to be an improvement to the black community. Ladies: that's means putting on some clothes when you are in the eyes of children. By all means, be "grown," but do not forget about that 12-year-old girl who looks at you like you do no wrong. I don't like talking about what women should do, but men follow women. If a woman acts like a lady, then a man will act like a gentlemen to attract the young woman. I don't really know but it's just a thought.

This video's main concept is to follow your dreams and fear not your success nor your loneliness or your potential failures. Overall, be yourself and follow what's in your heart. If you don't have it, BUY the Odd Couple by Gnarls Barkley

Where?

Can somebody please tell me what happened to all the free thinkers? I can remember a time in my life when people did things for the satisfaction of themselves and not the approval of other people. A time where minds were free to question any variable in life, regardless of tradition or history. Somewhere during my 19 years under these stars, people started to "evolve" into straight line thinkers. A straight line thinker is an individual that will only see an aspect in one view. If something funny happens to a mass group of people, then it's funny to that person. Basically they have no opinion of their own, but fall in line with what others say. These people are the people you see in cults or follow every fashion/trend or live by the words of Lil Wayne, Jeezy, or any other individual that is not a religious deity. In consequence, straight line thinkers usually live in misery and depression. The Bible even says in Romans chapter 12 verse 2,

"And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what that is good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God."

Even God Himself says be not conformed to the ways of the world. Straight line thinkers think they should have credit for every idea because new ideas in their narrow minds are rare.

What happened to all the free thinkers? Does age act as kryponite to the super human strength of free thinkers minds? What powers did W.E.B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington, Gandhi, Huey P. Newton, Bobby Seale, Angela Davis, Stockley Carmichael, Malcolm X, MLK Jr., Jackie Robinson, Emmit Teale's mother, Rosa Parks, James Baldwin, Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Nietzsche, Shakespeare, Jesus, and many other unnamed free thinkers have to not be overcome with temptation to conform to this world? Was it that they wore lead body suits to protect them from the evil essence of kryptonite? Or did they take one of Phizers countless drugs to keep their sane mind? Or was it simply that they took every opinion as an opinion and NOT fact like so many people of this time do? Maybe if people would educate themselves art would never be banned, free thinkers would not conform for the inheritance of a quick dollar, writers would not fear writing the truth, liberating musicians would not be considered strange, people would actually listen instead of judge, or maybe people would actually give a fuck about other people. But what do I know, I just think for myself.

19th

Nineteen years under these stars. While the stars haven’t really changed, I have. It's funny how four years ago I would not have imagined my life being like this. NIneteen years on this earth doesn’t seem long to old people, but 19 years is a lifetime to me. Nineteen years under this unseen force of gravity. While it keeps me grounded, sometimes I want it to ease up and let me fly. Here I am on the 19th year of my life and I ask myself, what has changed? I have realized that life is much more than a heavily dictated metaphor that makes someone smile and say, “You know Bryant is kind of smart.” Some may say that at this point in their life they wish to be rich or have things easy, but if there is one thing that I have figured out in these 19 years is that without struggle, there is no identity. Bryant, are you saying struggle is necessary? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. People that do not struggle tend to be fucked up. I do not look for struggle and I do not avoid struggle. In these 19 years I have made my mistakes and have reached some of my goals. I have also surprised myself. They say that most people find themselves in college. I have yet to find myself completely but I have become closer to the source that will bring me closer to finding my identity. I have always compared my life to a dark room in which I’m trying to get out of. Before, I was wandering with my eyes closed and trying to feel my way to the door. Now I have opened my eyes and realized that this room is really a big mansion and now I have a flashlight. My future is no longer in question due to its journey. I always knew that I wanted to change the negatives of my people and make this world a better place by doing so. Honestly I could give less than two damns about politics because the revolution will not come in the form of reform or passed bills or constitutional amendments. This radical change in society will come in the form of people changing people. If I could, my major would be role model, but now that need for helping people has evolved. While some try to convince me my decisions are going to be too hard for me to bear, but as I have stated before I do not avoid struggle nor do I long for it. As a child I often watched the preachers of my life speak and make the uncommon seem familiar. I often questioned how they could do such a powerful thing? How can one man speak for 45 minutes once a week and have this great influence? In these 19 years of my life I have found out that it’s not the method, it’s the message. Nineteen years under these stars and I have questioned, rebelled, rejected, and avoided the most influential factor in my life, God. I have spent many of hours asking for forgiveness for my stupidity and I think God has placed a task in front of me. He asked me to spread his word, but not just from a Christian point of view, but from the pulpit. Now I see that all the aspects of my life in these 19 years under the stars all add up. The struggle, the need to help people, the message, and most importantly God, and it all makes sense. Nineteen years under these stars and while the stars have not changed, the stars have changed me. Regardless of what my parent may try to comprehend, I will pursue this dream. The eyes of the ordinary may not understand this, honestly, I do not fully understand it all yet. But through prayer and meditation the clarity will come. It took me 19 years walking this mundane earth to realize how important some things are and how unimportant other things are. Nineteen years under these stars.

Ah

It never ceases to amaze me when I see a blank page and a keyboard awaiting my percussive strokes on the various letters.

In the essence of time, my space is insignificant. Therefore, as a man, I should not do things for personal glory. My Father and father told me a long time ago that a man is one who keeps his eyes on the the Lord, takes cares of his responsibilities to his family, and uplifts himself as a part of his community. Therefore, what am I? It is easy to SAY you are a man. As my best friend once asked me, "What are you doing?" At that time I said nothing.

As a human being there are three different types of decisions we make as individuals. There are small decisions: left or right. There are medium decisions: pants or shorts. There are hard decisions: yes or no. Honestly, there are some decisions that we as humans can not make. I believe that history is written before the books are published. What a person does is already predetermined. Life is not how breath commenced in one's infant body or the last breathe in your lungs. The goal is set. The bar has been put to its maximum height. Life is not the preface or the afterward. Life is the novel. Life is not the capital letter or the punctuation. Life is the adjective. In other words, life is the process.

In many and abundant ways, a man's actions are much more potent and concentrated than his words. So why is art so important to the survival of one's individual mind? Many people tend to conform to the rules and regulations of society. Some of these rules are vital to the survival of the individual. On the other hand there are unwritten rules of society that people don't have to follow, but choose to follow regardless. These rules are pointless and have probably been instilled into the minds of most individuals. Why? It is perfectly fine to follow these rules but ignorant to follow any rules without questioning the foundations of the institution. That's where art is the main means of survival in an ignorant world. Only through art can an individual appreciate something for what they want it to be. Only in these words can a person analyze, depict, destruct, and destroy any concept known to the mind of man.

All together.

Today I was asked, "Who are you?". In the context of the conversation, the question was supposed to be hurtful and have an underlying point of saying I have no identity in the mind of the individual. Men make mistakes and men understand the concept that life is much more than one decision. What I do in one situation can not outline nor define me. The definition of me is so complex so complicated that the essence of an adjective could not depict the nouns that surround the overall presence of the smallest atom in this shell called my body. The definition of me could not be fathomed by the descriptive adverbs that help the verbs complete actions that are pointless and yet so potent in action. The definition of me could not hold the concept of defining an article that is neither definite nor indefinite but definitely one of the above. Therefore causing an inverted and self-inflicted identity crisis in concrete words such as 'a' or 'the'. My art outreaches the nucleus of your ignorance, so I would advise you to never question or attempt to form words to define me. or you will be lost.