Wednesday, April 28, 2010

L is for the way you look at me.

Have you ever heard someone say that it is wrong to look for love? I disagree with that - I don't think it is wrong to look for love when you aren't looking for the wrong reasons. A lot of times people look for love or mates because they are insecure, lonely, trying to fill a void, and many other reasons. The rule of thumb is you can't give yourself to someone when you don't have enough to take away from in the first place.

It is very important to make sure you are a whole person before you attempt to give yourself to another. A consequence of ignoring this is several unsuccessful relationships because things "don't work out" or you "just don't click." A lot of these instances could be prevented if each individual took the time to examine his or herself and brought their complete package initially. I have never heard it better than this: "How in the hell can you expect to love someone else when you don't love yourself?"

Introspection is one of those psychological constructs that allows us to exercise the highest faculty of the human intellect, thus being able to separates us from the animalistic behavior exhibited by those species of lower-level intellectual capacity. Simple terms: STOP TREATING YOUR RELATIONSHIPS LIKE PRIMITIVE PRACTICES. Approach your relationships with a confident and intellectual annex and connect it with your emotional capacity and hopefully this fusion will create the "whole" you.

If you've been hurt by someone or something in life, run to the hardware store, buy some Crazy Glue and put your pieces back together. We all deserve to be whole, and the person you are dating or pursuing romantically deserves more than a hefty bag full broken emotions.

After a long time of being guarded and emotionally-enclosed, I think I am ready to look for love. I honestly feel complete as a single man, so now it's time I share myself with someone else. Wish me luck.

Monday, April 26, 2010

"Lady Marmalade"

Ok, so I usually like Fantasia and I love to support soul sangin' but this was just ratchet. RATCHET!!!

from urban dictionary: Ratchet -
when a person goes crazy or they don't care what they do.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

This is such an inspiring story. Mr. Harding was so confident in his work, he thought the rejection was comical. For all future authors, this piece is golden!

April 19, 2010           

Mr. Cinderella: From Rejection Notes to the Pulitzer

IOWA CITY — Six years ago Paul Harding was just another graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop with a quiet little novel he hoped to publish. He sent copies of the manuscript, in which he had intertwined the deathbed memories of a New England clock repairer with episodes about the dying man's father, to a handful of agents and editors in New York. Soon after, the rejection letters started to roll in.

"They would lecture me about the pace of life today," Mr. Harding said last week over lunch at a diner in this college town, where he is now teaching at the workshop. "It was, 'Where are the car chases?' " he said, recalling the gist of the letters. " 'Nobody wants to read a slow, contemplative, meditative, quiet book.' "

His manuscript languished in a desk drawer for nearly three years. But in perhaps the most dramatic literary Cinderella story of recent memory, Mr. Harding, 42, not only eventually found a publisher — the tiny Bellevue Literary Press — for the novel, "Tinkers," he also went on to win the Pulitzer Prize for fiction last week. Within an hour of the Pulitzer announcement, Random House sent out a news release boasting of the two-book deal it had signed with Mr. Harding late in 2009. A few days later the Guggenheim Foundation announced he had received one of its prestigious fellowships.

The early rejection "was funny at the time," Mr. Harding said. "And even funnier now." Mr. Harding, a onetime drummer for a rock band, is far too discreet to name any of the agents or editors who wouldn't touch his work a few years ago.

But he is quick to praise those who helped "Tinkers" become a darling of the independent bookstore circuit, including Erika Goldman, the editorial director of Bellevue, whom Mr. Harding described as a "deeply empathetic reader"; Lise Solomon, a sales representative in Northern California for Consortium, the book's distributor, who passionately advocated for the novel with booksellers; and the booksellers and critics who embraced the book early on.

Although "Tinkers" sunk under the radar in some quarters (including The New York Times, which did not review it), it made several year-end best lists, including NPR's best debut fiction and The New Yorker magazine's list of reviewers' favorites. According to Nielsen Bookscan, which tracks about 70 percent of retail sales, "Tinkers" sold 7,000 copies before the Pulitzer announcement.

Now many independent booksellers are claiming Mr. Harding's victory as their own. "This shows how indie bookstores truly are the ones that can be movers and shakers when it comes to a book," said Michele Filgate, the events manager at RiverRun Bookstore in Portsmouth, N.H., who raved about the book on Bookslut, a literary blog. As it turns out, it was Ms. Filgate who first told Rebecca Pepper Sinkler, a former editor of The New York Times Book Review and chairwoman of this year's Pulitzer fiction jury, about "Tinkers" at a book-reviewing workshop Ms. Sinkler led in Manchester, N.H., last April.

In classes at Iowa Mr. Harding has become an instant celebrity, of course, but also, a reassurance. Marilynne Robinson, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of "Gilead," Mr. Harding's former teacher and now a friend, said last week in her workshop office that she had already repeated Mr. Harding's story several times.

"One of the problems I have is making my students believe that they can write something that satisfies their definition of good, and they don't have to calculate the market," Ms. Robinson said. "Now that I have the Paul anecdote, they will believe me more."

Mr. Harding is an avid reader of 19th-century novels, theological works (Karl Barth is his current favorite) and physics, making it hard to believe his claims that he was a poor student at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where he majored in English. The university does confirm that he took six years to complete his degree.

Wearing wire-framed glasses and a white button-down shirt tucked into Levi's, he talked effusively, the antithesis of the taciturn father and son portrayed in "Tinkers," a novel with sparse dialogue and large portions set inside the characters' heads.

Framed partly as a deathbed vigil for George Washington Crosby, a clock repairer, the book wanders through time and consciousness, describing in fine-grain detail its rural Maine setting and the epileptic fits of George's father, Howard, an old-time tinker who traveled the countryside by wagon.

The story's genesis came from Mr. Harding's own grandfather, who grew up in rural Maine and whose epileptic father abandoned the family when he learned that his wife, Mr. Harding's great-grandmother, planned to send him to an asylum.

Mr. Harding spent his childhood in Wenham, Mass., a town not far from where he lives with his wife and two sons, and he went fly-fishing in northern Maine during the summers. He apprenticed with his grandfather in clock repair, and after graduating from college he recorded two albums and toured Europe with Cold Water Flat, the band he helped form at UMass.

The band fell apart (the usual: creative differences), and Mr. Harding decided to scratch another itch. He enrolled in a summer writing course at Skidmore College, where he took classes with Ms. Robinson.

With his application for the Iowa Writers' Workshop, he submitted two stories, one of which was his first stab at "Tinkers."

But for most of his time in Iowa Mr. Harding worked on a novel about a 12-year-old girl who disguised herself as a boy in order to work in a Mexican silver mine during the 16th century. As he graduated, he realized the novel didn't work.

Once again the story of his grandfather beckoned. Turning back to it, he said, "was just such a sense of relief to not have to go looking in history books."

After his first son was born and he was teaching expository writing to undergraduates at Harvard and creative writing to night-school students, the novel became an extracurricular project. "It got so it was guerilla writing," Mr. Harding said. "I could flip open the laptop and start writing anywhere." He wrote on bookmarks and the backs of receipts, transcribing the scraps into the computer later.

Finally, one Saturday night, he printed out his mishmashed computer file and laid it out on the living-room floor. Nursing a few fingers of whiskey, he cut up the document, stapling and taping sections into the structure that ultimately made it to publication.

Shortly after Ms. Goldman finally agreed to buy the book — paying a $1,000 advance — things began to go right. Ms. Robinson, who rarely gives blurbs, gave "Tinkers" a stellar one, calling it "truly remarkable." Independent booksellers started to push it.

Meanwhile Ms. Sinkler began to champion "Tinkers" among her fellow Pulitzer jury members, Charles Johnson, the author of the National Book Award-winning "Middle Passage," and Laura Miller, a senior writer at "I think that sentence for sentence, it was the most beautifully written and most gorgeous use of language of any of the books we looked at," Ms. Sinkler said in a telephone interview.

Mr. Harding is working on his next novel, set in Enon, the fictional town where George dies, focusing on one of George's grandsons, Charlie, and Charlie's daughter, Kate.

The Pulitzer may change some worldly things, he said, but not how he works.

"I sort of feel like I know how I got here, every step of the way," Mr. Harding said. "Something like this can befall me, and it won't be catastrophic success."

Monday, April 19, 2010

i want to touch you, but that just hurts...

Just a little somethin'-somethin' on my playlist on this rainy Monday. No one does it like Amy; No one!

"Just Friends"

When will we get the time to be just friends
It's never safe for us not even in the evening
'cos I've been drinking
Not in the morning where your shit works
It's always dangerous when everybody's sleeping
And I've been thinking
Can we be alone?
Can we be alone?

When will we get the time to be just friends
When will we get the time to be just friends

And no I'm not ashamed but the guilt will kill you
If she don't first
I'll never love you like her
Though we need to find the time
To just do this shit together
For it gets worse
I wanna touch you
But that just hurts

When will we get the time to be just just friends
When will we get the time to be just friends, just friends
When will we get the time to be just friends, just friends
When will we get the time to be just friends, just friends
Just friends

Saturday, April 17, 2010

We Don't Have The Power, But We Never Say Never

I love how shy Bey is when she walks out AND I especially love much their love shows. This video almost made me tear up (and I never cry). I think it's because I can literally see how they love each other, just by the way they look and smile at each other. He pays tribute to her at the end and she smiles bashfully. It works so well with the theme of this song, "Forever Young." I want a love like this one day.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Chopped & Screwed For You

I am in love with Amerykah Part 2. My favorite song is "Out My Mind, Just In Time."

I’m a recovering undercover over-lover
recovering from a love I can’t get over…
recovering undercover over-lover
And now my common law lover thinks he wants another
And I’d lie for you
I’d cry for you
I’d pop for you
I’d break for you
And hate for you
And I’ll hate you too
If you want me too
Ah, Uuu Uu
I’d pray for you
I’d crochet for you
Make it from scratch for you
Leave out the latch for you
Go to the stove for you
Do it some more for you
Do what you want me to
Yes I’m a fool for you
I’m a recovering undercover over-lover
recovering from a love I can’t get over…
recovering undercover over-lover
And now my common law lover thinks he wants another
And I’d lie for you
I’d cry for you
I’d pop for you
I’d break for you
And hate for you
And I’ll hate you too
If you want me too
I gotta do my love for you
chopped and screwed for you
Pay the rent for you
Its true
Its true
Poor Badu
Thought I was through with you
Guess I’m a fool for you…

Monday, April 5, 2010

Yellow Light.

Is it just me or is time racing these days? Time is one thing that I need more of, but never seem to have.What kind of car does Father Time drive, because he is obviously exceeding the speed limit. If I ever had the chance to have a one-on-one conversation with Father Time, I would punch him in the face and tell him, "SLOW THE F*** DOWN!!!" I don't want him to stop completely, I just want him to yield.

How am I supposed to save the world in only 4 minutes?

Sunday, April 4, 2010


There is a place that I dream of going to, where stress is nonexistent and I'm never tired.

There is a place that I dream of going to, where I can reach the peak of my creativity without being judged.

There is a place that I dream of going to, where love is my friend, not the source of my pain.

There is a place that I dream of going to, where I wake up to the sound of birds instead of synchronized alarm clocks.

There is a place that I dream of going to, where happiness isn't something I dream about and is something I have.

There is a place that I dream of going to, where death has no sting and we live forever in good health.

I hate reality, that's why I'm so good at it.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Thursday, April 1, 2010


You were the one;
I could tell you why and when you placed your hand over my heart, you knew it was the truth.

Unfortunately, I was not the one;
Touch after touch, cold, steady, nothing...

Presumably, that was my cue, but this was a tough scene and the director was my heart.

My heart couldn't speak AND my brain couldn't feel AND this dis/connect was chaos AND I just wanted it to end AND so...

I pulled out my weapon... and

I killed you with my kindness.

May your misery rest in peace.