Tag Archives: life

Jun 28 2020

“It’s a big difference.”

I heard an oddly familiar, but very loud beep. I assumed it was an alarm at a nearby house and brushed it off. Then I heard another, similar sound, followed by my mother yelling that there was a fire in the basement.

My mother is strong as fuck. I hate referring to black women as “strong” because it robs them of the room to be delicate, to feel pain, to be vulnerable. On the same token, I’ve watched my mother not flinch during shit that would’ve killed me, seen her stand up for people whose voice wouldn’t have been heard otherwise. She is a wonderful woman with a gigantic heart who ALWAYS sees the bigger picture. And that is strength, to me.

But she was concerned. I could tell from her voice. It’s the same way she sounded as she saw me spiral through a depressive episode for years. Just like back then, she saved my ass, yet again.

I ran down the steps, leaving everything behind. I was in disbelief, almost if my mom was mistaken. But nope, it was real, the dryer that I put my clothes in just ten minutes ago went up in flames, quickly overwhelming the basement, if the smoke that was seeping upstairs was real. My mom tried to go back downstairs to the fire, and I yelled (without cursing, because yes, I wanted to) for her to not do that and just leave the house. I told my dad the same; I also told him to just close the basement door instead of running down there. That move was done to save my mother’s cat Cathy from accidentally running downstairs and dying.

I get my parents outside of the house. I’m standing outside, hoping the fire doesn’t reach the boiler and blow the house up, and that the cat doesn’t die. I’m also extremely concerned about me or my family contracting Coronavirus outside, as the entire neighborhood is outside now, talking to us. My parents, thankfully, were masked up. I wasn’t, but kept my distance when I remembered. Long story short, FDNY put the fire out, the cat was fine (but scared, hiding in an upstairs closet), and the house is intact. We can’t stay there for some months, but we’re in a nice rental crib, my family is good, shoutout to the insurance my parent’s busted their asses for over the years.

My mother said I saved her and my dad (and by proxy, the cat’s) life. I decided to just be modest and not think about it. I talked to my girlfriend about it and admitted that I agreed with my mom’s sentiment, but it was a lot to stomach. The entire time I was trying to get my parent’s out of that house, I was thinking that the house was gonna blow up and they were going to die. That’s all that was on my mind. But I got them out, got outside and called 911. I was semi-hysterical but I was much more composed than I expected. But my mom thinks I saved them. And that conflicts with my idea of heroism.

My father is a hero. He saved my neighbor’s life when I was a kid, when she fell taking garbage to the incinerator on our floor and cut herself on the glass in the bag, leaving blood all over the hallway. I don’t know how he realized what was happening from inside our apartment, but he got to her and called 911, and saved her from bleeding out, and got his kids, who didn’t have local friends, a close friend down the hall and a family that embraced us. And he saved my friends lives too, with the way he has always been welcoming; they love him and admire him the same way I do. Because he’s a hero. And he’ll never admit that shit, because that’s not his style.

My mother is a heroine. She spent a lot of years in the New York Board of Education. She was a teacher, administrator, assistant principal and principal. I’ve seen the kids and adults that spent time in her schools, the lives she’s touched. They have an unending respect for her, as does everyone who has ever worked with or known her. She’s saved a lot of lives, directly and indirectly. She’s won awards for her work in schools, she has had students that would and have put their safety on the line for her. But she also would never admit any of this, because she is modest, and humble.

I have done a lot in my life. I am not modest or humble or anything of the sort. But I try to be my best self each day, and all I really want to do is help and do what’s right. With all of that said, I am (still) taken aback by the idea that I saved my family, because I just did what was correct to me, while being terrified. I understood that my fear could cost me the lives of my loved ones, so I acted as if I felt nothing, besides urgency. I do truly believe that I am a star that hasn’t evolved yet, but I’m no hero. I’m just someone who is trying to do his best, who experiences ups and downs like anyone else. And perhaps that’s enough. But, maybe, just maybe, I need to accept the love when I get it.

Jun 27 2015

bullshit.

Man.

Everything is crazy.

I broke up with my girlfriend about 4 weeks ago, I’ll probably never publicly explain why, just know it was fucked up. No one cheated.

While breakups are terrible, the fallout that comes with them may actually be worse.

I’ve kinda had to weather the storm, so to speak. I am definitely lonely, and I sometimes feel a vague listlessness that is just “there”. I’m doing MUCH…MUCH better now than I was at first, but I did what I had to do.

In the first two weeks, I had to clench my jaw so I wouldn’t throw up, on a daily basis. I was consistently nauseous. That is how much the shit was bothering me.

So, I dealt with that, I didn’t do any dumb shit, I didn’t diss my ex then, and I will not now. My healing regimen is solely based on seeking inner peace and making sure I’m around people who love me. I didn’t know being amongst people who put your well-being first felt like this; its been quite some time.

I’ve learned that people don’t actually know me, at all. People who have known me forever.

When some foul shit happens, they accuse me of being motivated by things that have never meant anything to me.

I was told I broke up with my girlfriend because I wanted to be single for the summer.  Not a chance.

If you think I broke up with my girlfriend because I wanted to get my meat moistened by other women and have more time to listen to Young Thug, you are a moron.

“You don’t work through things” “You don’t care about your girlfriend”. “You’re selfish”, “You’re unfair”.

There’s an underlying problem with all of this shit throwing. When you date someone for a year, there will be things you have to overcome between the two of you. I did it. I did it multiple times. I didn’t say a word publicly, because I respect her up to this very moment. To say I don’t care, or I don’t work through things, or I’m not loyal….when I’ve TRULY given all of myself, is amazing. Even worse, I’m all about justice and always have been. So “fairness” is paramount to me, even though very few things about reality are “fair”.

I’ve had to listen to these things, while I mourned my own relationship. I was even spoken to as if I enjoy breakups. Ive been dumped twice, I’ve initiated break ups twice(only two were “actual” relationships). All 4 were extremely trash, albeit this one isn’t as bad as the last one. If I could AVOID breakups, I would. And good lord, did I try to avoid this one.

I’ll never tell you what to tolerate and not tolerate in your relationships. Do know, however, that if you tolerate something you actually can’t deal with, it’s going to kill you from the inside. Then your choice becomes “do something about it” or “die”. I hope you won’t choose the latter.

I will never be that person who bends their moral and personal standards so far that they are no longer themselves, Just to keep the peace. Just to be happy. Just for “things to be ok”. My ex is a good enough person, but I can’t get down with certain shit she does, that she is not willing to change. So, I went on my way.

I knew in my heart and soul I could not deal with said transgression long term. So I made my choice. That should be fine with everyone. It’s not. Oh well.

When I say “transgression” do know I don’t mean “STOP MAKING ME SLEEP IN THE WET SPOT!!” or “HOW MANY TIMES ARE WE GONNA WATCH LOVE AND HIP HOP, OMFG!”. It was SERIOUS. You can ask anyone who dated me (no you can’t, you don’t know them), I’m really not a nitpicker, I’m going to let you live. I just want you to be safe, I want you to be happy, I want you to be alive. I don’t care about anything else, honestly. I want you to operate as your best self, even if our visions don’t align on what that means.

People are treating me “differently”….because I broke up with a woman. It’s unbelievable. It’s irritating. It’s a SUPER minority (I’m talking less than 5 people here), but it exists. I haven’t really paid attention to it recently, but the fact that they even EXIST makes my blood boil.

One of my very close friends told me “you always run, you should talk it out, you don’t love your girlfriend???”, the MINUTE I told him we split. No “are you ok?” or “whats been going on with you two”, just that, scolding. Chastizing. Then acted like I was ridiculous for requesting empathy first and disagreement later. He went on to say that “I always take the moral high ground and expect it from other people”, as if what I ask is too much or the wrong thing to do.

Took him two weeks and two separate arguments to admit he was wrong. I just stopped speaking.  We probably won’t be speaking too much going forward, because he’s done this repeatedly, and questioned my character in such bullshit ways. He told me to not break up with a previous girl and said I was being hasty, and “omg she’s so cool and so smart how could you” etc., etc and basically went to war with me over MY breakup. Never mind the fact that said girl came back in a few months and said “you were right for dumping me, I understand why.” So if she understands, why can’t you? And if I’m of such poor character, wouldn’t this be coming from someone else? It NEVER has. It’s all so crazy.

Her “mistake” that did us in, opened my eyes to other weak points in our relationship that I didn’t make enough of a stir about, that I let spin out of control. I am an enabler, in that sense. That means I wasn’t without blame for what my relationship became. But it simply was past the point of fixing. So I stepped up and handled it. Predictably, she said some totally out of line things in the aftermath, that just solidified my decision. I don’t lose sleep over those words; I don’t lose sleep over being vilified by people that don’t matter. I can only be true to myself, and I live that every day I wake up.

Nov 18 2014

a coincidence, I promise.

I started in July 2013, after not having a job for 5 months. I quit my job at #WellKnownTechStoreThatRunsThePlanet in February of that year for a multitude of reasons. For starters, they had been (predictably) treating us like shit since they were forced into a company wide pay raise. Our hours were getting cut sans any explanation or heads-up. We were being micro-managed to death about a job that wasn’t THAT difficult. Working there became stressful because of management and the disastrously low levels of morale in the building, not the job itself.

Nonetheless, I left #ThatStore and became a Soundrop employee in July, as previously stated. I really was a paid intern at first ( I just never had to get coffee or any fake character building bullshit like that). It was me and another dude in the Social Media Specialist role. He got a job elsewhere and left; I picked up his slack. More money (the very little we got), opportunity, all of that good stuff. I was asked to build our social media strategy from the ground up. I put my passion and vision for Soundrop into it. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I just knew what worked, so I rolled with that. I knew in my heart that the amount of work I was putting in surpassed my compensation, but I did what I had to do.

As I’m really rolling and improving at my job, discussions about my future at Soundrop began to happen. A lot of positive things were said about my contributions, but I wasn’t 100 percent sold. I’ve been involved in the industry in different ways for a while now; things fall apart quickly. I didn’t get too excited but I continued to work and push more of my ideas into the very fabric of the company. In my heart of hearts, I knew things weren’t right. There were internal power struggles, doubts about the direction the company was taking, ridiculous situations concerning me being paid on time…I just couldn’t buy all the way in. While being aware of all of this, I knew the end was near. I simply continued to work and apply to other jobs, to little fruition.

Alas, one morning in early August of this year explained it all. My boss turns to me in the office and tells me in no uncertain terms that I’m being let go, effective immediately. They just had no use for my role in the new direction they were taking. She then let me know that she was leaving soon after (and she did). That was it. The Soundrop that I knew was…done for. My boss helped me with some other opportunities. They didn’t end up panning out, and one of which involved me moving to Atlanta ASAP (something I wanted to do, but my heart wasn’t really in it). She was the only one who assisted me in any way or spoke to me after I was let go. No emails from my CEO or anyone else. Soundrop doesn’t even exist on US soil anymore. We were a small, close-knit yet “clique-y” collective who accomplished some cool things. But once everything changed, that was erased.

All of this ended so abruptly and uncomfortably, and it sucked. My work email account recently stopped working; imagine getting prompts that your password doesn’t work every time you turn your computer on. That was the extent of any type of severance or being wished well; deactivate your account and shuffle you out of the door. I was told I would be instrumental in our future, but does that even mean anything at this point? I’ve been told this at quite a few stops; nothing has ever happened. I’ve been relatively pissed off concerning how I was hung out to dry for this company, but I kept it to myself. At the time I was let go, I definitely knew it was time for a mutual split. I just hate how it was handled and how something with such promise went to shit. Things going sour in the music industry (or any industry) are just part of the game. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it. I will continue to work and remain hopeful; its the only option.

Oh.

Hire me, too.