Profundity & Using It Correctly (Goodbye 2013)

I haven’t had a resolution in years. They never worked for me, and really anyone else I know. I usually just do things, and chalk it up to being proactive with my life goals.

2013 was an awesome year. A dear friend asked “what’ll happen when we die, and get to that other place and they ask you ‘how was Heaven?'” I’ve enjoyed it all. Heaven is alright with me.

Though I’ve learned to live with regrets in ’97 (see Reasonable Doubt), I’ve also learned to come out of everything with more wins than losses.

I’ve let several meaningful relationships slip away, but I’ve built twice those. I greatly miss New York City and Central Park’s 72nd Street Entrance, but I’ve stood in front of The Louvre and walked on Las Ramblas, and talked about Anne Frank in front of her house, and jetted across Europe ,breaking bread with strangers I shared rooms with. Winning.

I regret not waking up at sunrise on any of my 7 days at sea, but I caught every sunset, 5 dolphins, three whales and a fistful of flying fish. Winning.

So this is Heaven, I hope. I love this life and this earth and all parts unknown. The unknown is the most exciting part, I think. That hope that sits there. Doing what the prophet Saul Williams said: I am letting my future dwell in my past so I can live a brighter now.

“I am and always will be that [guy].” – Saul

Profundity (as i attempt to use this correctly): My little cousin died this year. After the regular sadness dissolved, a different sadness took over. She hadn’t seen the moon glow on the other side of the world, or caught 7 days of sunsets on two bodies of water. She would never taste haggis and hate it. And maybe that stuff wasn’t important to her.

The other day I realized my Grandma, Irene E. Jones, has been dead for two years. Then I realized the truth in “it’s a blink from diapers to depends.” 

So hey, I guess my resolution is this: make sure the beautiful things in this life are seen by those (as many of them as possible) who think they are important.

Was that profound enough?

Take off your shirt, throw up your hands, and bring in the greatest year properly.Image

4:23 : For Number One

4:23

I imagine at the strangest hours she’s dead
Her children watching over her like she watched over me
Naked
Waiting for her to rise
If she does or doesn’t there will be no words
Just a look
Either way she’s fucked

I Don’t Need You.

The past few weeks have taught me something I wish I knew before I put my book, CREEP, out there. But I’m not too sure how to make that lesson into a statement without it sounding too funky, so I’ll say it like this:

I am not relationship-oriented. Does that even make sense? I hope so. Like most folks and their countless circles, I have friends who hunt, some alone, and some in packs because the thought and feeling of being alone sometimes eats at their skin like ringworm. I’ve never had that feeling.

Irene E. Jones taught me how to do the necessities, even sew, because a partner shouldn’t be a requirement, but an accessory. Hell, was I the only one watching Best Man Holiday who cheered when Jordan told her boyfriend she didn’t need him? I heard sighs, and “girl, that’s fucked up,” but I felt her. I’ve never needed any of them, but I wanted them, and I hoped that was enough. In return, I never asked to be needed, nor have I wanted that. “I’ll be just fine without you,” Adele said of her ex to the interviewer right before singing “Someone Like You” in her home.

I won’t lose my mind or leave the party sad because my options haven’t increased. I’ll be fine.

I want to be able to tell you that I want you, but don’t need you, and not fear that you’ll feel some kind of way. Those eggshells have fucked up the bottom of my feet, so I want to get rid of them. Not my feet, but the eggshells.

The girl in apartment 12 fights her boyfriend when he tries to leave the apartment on saturday nights. He doesn’t live there. I watched her fight him several times for hours, then dive head first into his driver seat when he opened the door. I watched him fight back once. That was months ago. He still comes by on the weekends.

The guy in apartment 3 had a gentleman caller stop by around 2am. Around 3:14am there was arguing, then fighting, then the caller went to his car and got a gun. He never used it, but he pulled it out. That feeling, that need must have hit him hard.

I don’t need you. But I want you. I want to say that, and I want you to understand.

Fuck, is this why I’m single?

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Us : Poem 3 of 10

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We can walk now
We can get grass stains on dry aged denim and talk now
You ask too many questions
You had a way of impressing professors but they don’t teach how to love me
I want to tell you how I did it
I just need a few minutes of your time and promise you’re not afraid of a little rain

 

-darnell lamont walker

What Have You Learned?

the best way I can explain it:

When you’ve gone through hell with someone, surviving the severest strains without breaking, without air, and come out the other side bruised, battered, bloody but unbowed, a title can’t necessarily suffice. To call them a friend seems like an insult, and to call them family feels cheap.

My line brother is more like my right arm than anything else.

And the one thing I know for sure, and the one thing that’s been proven several times since December 11, 2002, is hell isn’t a thing that stops when you’ve achieved a goal. So we show up so the other won’t have to go through it alone. Still. We show up.

Someone asked what have I learned since becoming an old head:

1. You don’t create monsters and turn your back on them.

2. Never compare the process. Compare the passion when it counts.

3. Never complain. When others aren’t working as hard as you, remember we all didn’t join for the same reason.

4. You always remember those who taught you. Those who only beat you are often forgotten.

5. “Pledging is life. Pledging is forever” – K. Turner (gamma theta)

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