Not a Stan I Swear...

So it's Monsooning outside and it's highly likely that i will be fightting the wind, rain and my umbrella on the way to class tomorrow... HU Blows son, do better... Also found out I'm pretty much enrolled @ a freakin crime scene... Armed robbery, petty thefts, rape...Honestly, this late class I have might get skipped, I refused to be attacked over a systems of psych class son...
Anywho... I kidnapped the following from a Fbook friends note "18 pieces of me"... Super mega points for any1 that can tell me who I kidnapped this from
~Boogie~
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Wasn't even going to do this, but i was pressured by Urban Word fam and inspired by the vulnerability I've seen in the notes I am tagged in. I'm going to break the rules at the end but I don't care.I'm even tagging 19 people, son! Anyways, I have the utmost respect for all of you brave, beautiful souls for undertaking this endeavor. Please welcome my piece of the puzzle with open arms.

1. The truest thing I know is that God is real. I'm far too hesitant to write, speak or act on my faith in those moments where it is most crucial that I do. Hopefully this is a first step.

2. Honest poems are hard to come by nowadays. I'm growing rather adept at making things sound pretty and it's an arduous process trying to differentiate between truth and art, if such a boundary even exists.

3. My nephew just fell asleep in my arms. Most complete I've felt in a long time.

4. I'm working on the Black male feminist thing. I really am, promise. It's hard to make theory match praxis when it's so easy to falter and receive no negative feedback for it. Male privilege is one of the most nefarious forces I know. It's in my bones; wrapped in my skin and smile and I'm trying my best to fight it. I'll do better. For all of us.

5. Celibacy is no joke. Shout out to my fellow Kings. And my Queens. You know who you are.

6. I have this habit of falling in love with my friends. It's a double-edged sword. I hope my wife is my homie as well; that we watch football together and go to poetry cafes with the kids. I hope that she reminds me of all three of my mothers, and that she treats me the way she treats sacred things.

7. Rocky Road ice cream? Yeah!

8. I can't imagine being anything other than a teacher. To do otherwise would be to waste a gift and disrespect all who served as inspirations; imbuing me with the language, insight and knowledge to make real connections with others, to move mountains.

9. I can't stand "real" men. Masculinity is trash. Go cry in a corner, write in a diary, hug your mom. Please. I've felt the painful consequences of this posturing for too long; seen fragile men who never should have been told to be anything else in the first place crack under the weight of our flawed expectations. Let our boys paint. Let them wear skinny jeans and read Ellison. However soft spoken or uncoordinated, leave them be. If you don't, you and me will have a serious problem.

10. I'm very insecure about my writing; disturbingly so.

11. I hope that my work is relevant when I'm 30; that i don't wake up and all of a sudden nothing i wrote still resonates with those who have seen me before. I fear that this may be all there is sometimes. Right now. I fear for the future though it excites me, drawing me in with its promises of beards and electric bills and children. I want to be a cool adult. A scholar-poet my kids brag about. I hope you remember me.

12. I bought a Blackberry because I tried to get this girl's number at a party and she laughed when i pulled out my busted flip phone. I was tight. Had to upgrade.

13. I let achievements define me sometimes. IWPS was a fleeting moment where they didn't. I need more moments like that, where the world's perception doesn't matter and its just me and my heart, slugging it out like they used to in the old days. Bare-knuckled and bloody. Let me be that free again.

14. I worry sometimes that I will wake and my gifts will be gone. Freestyling, poetry, the whole shabang. Illogical, I know. Still real. Gotta fight that a little harder.

15. I want to write at least 10 books before I go Home. At least. A couple academic texts, some books of poetry, an autobiography, a memoir, and finally a book of 100 love sonnets, all written for my wife. Like Neruda, you know? I think it'd be a great goodbye present. A testament to our storybook life and all of the pain and passion contained therein.

16. I'm trying to adopt at least 1 child. Too many kids without homes, ya'll.

17. Before I met Alysia, i thought seeing the world in metaphor meant I was crazy. Between her, UW, Excelano and Philly Youth Slam I now know that such vision merely makes me human and, more importantly, part of a family.

18. Time is fleeting. I want to spend it with those I love most. Hold me tight.