24, off the top.

Preface:

I wanted to write a blog post today, talk about what I’m thankful for and low key boast about myself but… This feels more right.

What you’re about to read is a result of Surrealist writing a technique used to uncover the subconscious. (the things you didn’t know you were feeling) I wrote for 24 minutes (kinda) nonstop. No edits (except for spelling errors) no fancy words, no time to think just brain vomit.

There’s a bunch of stuff here that makes me cringe, things that I am embarrassed by. But not everything on social media needs to be doctored. Plus today of all days I wanted to be honest with myself.

Thanks for reading and not judging.

(If yuh judging do so quietly)

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Here goes 😓

I’m not in a thankful mood. I’m a bit sad today and lost and I’ve been feeling this way for sometime and I guess it being my birthday makes it worse.

I’m not sure if I’m going to publish this or not. But it feels good to be writing the truth. And not some version of it. I’ve changed so much in the past 2 years and not all for the better. I’ve lost important people in my life because of selfishness and ego.

It’s so easy to talk about all my accomplishments and whilst I thank God for them and I’m proud it seems like for every accomplishment there are 2 mistakes. I’m not happy with where I am. I feel lonely and helpless sometimes. I love being able to say that I do what I love for a living but I hate the reality of it not being enough to sustain me and my family.

I’m less broke but broke…

…with more problems and more worries and less friends and less peace. I am happy though, I love my life but it feels like every time I boast or publish a success, I’m holding my breath. And only when I admit my mistake I can let the air out.

And it’s getting harder to exhale.

I hate that I use the word “I” so much. My ego hides in between my good works. I think terrible things. My perception of God is changing and usually I celebrate that but I’m not sure it’s changing for the better. I think I’m using my

Far left
Far left
Far left

This should be over now, writing, feeling like this but it’s not.
I thank god that I’m feeling like this, it means I still feel, It means being better is important to me. Though I’ve been singing this I want to be better song for years. And I’ve only grown in one specific area of my life.

It’s hard to celebrate today rather it doesn’t feel right to only celebrate the victories. I want to embrace all of who I am the good and the fucked up. I want to be redeemed, I want to be better, I want to grow but not only the parts that are fun to grow.

I am not my art alone.
I am not my art alone.

I am sorry, I genuinely am. Lord forgive me.

Thanks you for being my provider even though it feels these days like I have nothing I guess you’re stripping me down…. I deserved it .. I need it. And I’m trying to trust you and combat myself but it’s hard not to root for Kyle. I hate wrestling with you but I love to win.

Help me lose myself.

P.S. This kind of writing is equivalent to a loud scream… we does all need to scream sometimes so when you’re feeling meh and you don’t know why try it.

Plane Talk and Bad Mannerisms

Plane Talk

Remember a few weeks ago when we first heard that a Trini dude tried and failed to steal a plane in Florida?

And we thought “Well that’s CRAZY…”

Soon after we found out that he had plans to crash the plane and take his own life.

And some thought  “Well he’s CRAZY…”

Turns out that it wasn’t the official diagnosis (shocking right?)

Well…

Despite the FBI’s findings or the actions of the defendant himself; which all pointed to clear signs of intense emotional distress and possible mental illness, ‘taxifulls’ of people all over Trinbago still think the boy just CRAZY.

I’ve also heard friends and enemies alike postulate that this was just a case of a wealthy adrenaline junkie playing the mental health card to get out of jail. Whatever you believe or however yuh slice it, this story reeks of tragedy, speculation and doubt.

I keep thinking how different our opinions would be if there was actual footage of the young man bleeding from his eyes, or him pulling out his hair, or coughing uncontrollably. How much physical evidence would we need to firmly believe he is sick?

How much evidence do we need to believe anyone who claims to be afflicted by a mental illness? And how tragic the story’s ending has to be for us to stop slinging the word CRAZY around?

(Think bout that for a lil bit, wheel and come again)

Bad Mannerisms

The sooner we all admit to having issues with mental health issues, the better.

Truth is a lot of us (for pretty plausible reasons) feel ”a type ah how” whenever we hear words like schizophrenia and bipolar (for me it’s because they’re hard to spell), others simply find it hard to shake the memory of a church leader shouting “demon ting” or a school mate calling the ‘excessive’ crier a drama queen or a ‘soft’ man.

This culturally imposed ideology may cause us to act insensitive and dismissive towards people in our lives who struggle with their mental health.

>>> Which in turn makes it harder for them to talk about it. >>>

>>> Which in turn makes it harder for us to spot the problem. >>>

>>> Which in turn makes it more difficult for them to receive help.

 Our actions can make things difficult!

And yeah, yeah we know “society is shit” and “daz how yuh was raised”, but we have to hold ourselves accountable for our own actions. (You can stop reading here cause I’m basically talking to myself now)

I’ve said to an ex-girlfriend suffering with depression, “cheer up and work harder.”  

I’m ashamed to admit that very recently I told a close friend, who was on suicide watch the week before, “ the next time you drop down I won’t come to help” all because I was mad at her for not eating well and taking her meds.

I’m not an expert and pretending to be one is incredibly reckless. I’m literally just a shitty human trying to be less shitty…

and you’re not an evil person for making mistakes, or doubting someone’s claims BUT quite possibly you are making it harder for them to get the help they need and that shit needs to stop.

Heres what needs to start:

Watch yuh words – I does talk real dotishness and yes comedy is a valid coping mechanism but it cannot be at the expense of someone’s feelings. We need to be ultra aware of what we say and who we are saying it around (I know I know PC this PC that)  but breds is a man life yuh talking bout.

Listen, Listen, Listen – Don’t criticize, don’t try to shove logic down their throats. Express your love and concern by being there and keeping an open mind.

Don’t Reproach – Don’t bring up what you do for them in a fight or make it seem burdensome. You’re not a hero for doing the right thing. (Jesus said it, Allah said it, Chance the Rapper said it)

Make the tough call – There is no such thing as friend/client privilege. If someone you know is showing signs of suicidal tendencies or self harm report it to a trusted family member and REFER to a professional.  Yes you run the risk of them feeling betrayed but this might save their life.

Take care of yourself – You can’t pour from an empty heart. It’s okay to not be strong all the time, it’s okay to be frustrated. Taking a break from helping a friend doesn’t make you selfish…. You can’t help them if you’re not okay. Step back, take some fresh air, take a day off, talk to a therapist yourself.

Mental illnesses aren’t contagious but poor practices are. .

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”Co Pilot” – Spoken Word

Wrote this piece after reading about the Florida plane incident. Hope this helps someone 🙏🏾

It is not finished

First things first (I’m the realest),

Thank you Abba Daddy for teaching me how to love, think, talk and blessing me with the ability to put it all together in 3 minutes.

Y’all I am the first runner-up of the FCNPS 2018 and I did it with a Jesus piece!

I wanna talk about two things real quick: Growth and Support.

Growth-  I’ve been using my slam track record as a marker for development as an artist/ human (not recommended for the weak). Why? Because the National Poetry Slam is an ancient God that demands human sacrifice. She takes everything from you. What is required is not just your absolute best as a poet but inventiveness, resilience and straight up HARD WORK.

My game plan is simple, every single year… do better. ‘Better’ may not always be reflected in the results but certainly in the process and quality of your pieces.  Check it,

2015– I auditioned and made it to semifinals (poems were mediocre, got a few chuckles and ‘good jobs”). 

2016– Made it straight up to finals and placed 2nd! Though my poems were complete flames I felt unfulfilled and so did a lot of people who knew what they were talking about. (Follow the link to check out my semis and finals pieces)

2017– MASHUP SEMIS, wrote my first honest poem for finals. Looking back, it’s at this stage, audiences started seeing pass my brazen humor and a real community of people who believed in me and my work began to form.

2018– I topped semifinals and placed 2nd for the second time! Hundreds of people all over the country, students, fellow poets, family and fans (I guess) genuinely rooted for me. I’m talking social media posts, prayers, posters with my face on it, gifts and just straight up positive words of affirmation. Check out my semifinals poem here.

This, my friends/enemies is the reason I am at peace with placing second because above it all…… I have grown.

For the above mentioned, I’d like to mention the one above (#poet),

Support- God, I’m not sure if you read my blogs but I am so grateful. I have seen your face in Ashlee Burnett, the entire 2 Cents Team, my camp family, my actual family, TENOFUS, Freetown Collective, CAISO TT, Rio West Tribe, Chance The Rapper, and meh Grandmother and meh Mother who never see me perform spoken word till 2018 finals.

Mad respect to all the poets who touched the slam stage this year and for the people who seem to have traded their brains for a loud mouth, screaming, “slam was rigged”,

Ah comin for alyuh next.

Sometimes I think men are attractive.

Does that mean I want to shove my tongue down their throats?

Well…. yuh know what they say.

Yuh know when you going up an escalator yuh does can’t help but to look at the people going down on the opposite side? Yeah, well sometimes some of the people going down does be men… and I does still look at them.

Like this one time, I was rushing up the escalator near KFC in Trincity mall, tryna take advantage of the cinema’s Tuesday special and then…RED MAN!

Pristine, white sneakers, cut biceps with a colored tattoo slapped on, sporting a watch I guarantee you is more expensive than my car, I couldn’t help but stare… like really STARE.

What yuh just read make yuh uncomfortable right?

Here’s why…

There is a special type of fear that creeps up on us when talking homosexuality or gender roles, especially for straight men (at least those whom I interact with).

We become defensive and extra ‘manish’; religiously prefacing statements with “no homo” as if complimenting a bredren on his new haircut makes you gay. (not that that’s a bad thing dumbass)

We spend all this time obsessing over our masculinity which ironically makes us insecure in our manhood. Subsequently, we lash out against anything that doesn’t fit into the box of “normal”, i.e homosexuality, pansexuality, male nurses etc.

It is important however to understand that it’s not entirely our fault. Most of us have been taught to confront the unfamiliar with fear and hostility. (Chalk that up to Mr. Patriarchy).

BUT!

It is our responsibility to hold ourselves accountable for our own actions and separate original thought from institutional vomit.

“It’s just the way I was raised” or, “the bible says” is not a valid excuse for hatred and bigotry. – Heterosexual Christian

The endorsement of Trinbago’s Buggery law and Buju Banton’s lyrics hint to the Goliath of all issues. The issue being, men are expected to be Goliaths; tough, domineering conquerors but…

Don’t you think its time we teach our boys to be Davids?

Don’t worry I hate blogs too.

But if I don’t write this stuff down how will you know that I’m smart?