Unnamed for New York

I love you because
Five floor walk up
1 to the 2 to the E
Three avenues

Inspiring and Being Inspired

I’m sitting in the airport again. In the last three weeks and two days I’ve been in eight airports, on two trains, one ship, one bus, and two rental cars. All that to get around two countries but only three new locations. The others were old stomping grounds where I left pieces of myself. Where I left old friends, half a bottle of Honey Jack, and a sad look on a few faces. They were all still there.

I’m not with everyone I started with, but I am with those who are most important right now, and meeting more and more people who are actually happy. Have you ever surrounded yourself with happy people? I mean genuinely happy people? Those who love their life enough to put it above everything else. Some who were raised to do so, and some who do so in spite of everything else, and have to consciously maintain it, but they do it without flaw.

Feelin’ It is still heavily played on my iTunes and as long as I have enough crutches to get me through expected injuries and the few I over-budget for, all will be well.

What happens next will not be unbelievable, but it will be amazing. I’ve positioned myself on the chess board. I’m inspired by the pawns who’ve moved on; some became greater, some are gone and aren’t returning. “I’ll be here,” I tell them.

What and who I’ve inspired is inspiring. What and who inspires me constantly changes, but I have pictures of most of those places, and some of those people. I love architecture now, and I want to see where I fit with that. I want to make film every week, and I want to piss people off as much as possible. I want an Opus. I want to actively support the dreams and goals of all my friends, even if it costs money. I want a birthday this year that is different and amazing.

So, even if it ain’t sunny, I ain’t complaining. I’ll be in the rain, putting myself in a position most of these folks aren’t in. Inspiring and being inspired.

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The Only Frat I Know: Happy 103

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What comes with dedicating more than a third of your life to a pledge made? There are no trophies, those ended when the sands cooled. There are no new teachings thrown on you, they must be sought out, and retained on your own time. What then? 

Being a member of the Kappa Alpha Psi’s Southern Province Chapter, Gamma Theta (said that way to put certain ideas in your head about my teachings, upbringing, and mentality), I’ve learned that what we put into this fraternity is exactly what will come out on the other end. My elders, specifically Spring 1990, Spring 1998, Spring 1999, Fall 2G, Spring 2k1 and Spring 2k2, put in the time, and the work, and the passion, so I did, too. What came out of the fraternity for me, at least for the past 11 years, was enough memories to get me from homecoming to homecoming, enough brothers to get me from continent to continent without ever looking up hotel prices or worrying about missing a meal, and bonds that have been tested by time, distance, women and foolishness, but remain in tact, unbothered. 

The Noble Klan and I have grown up like friends who’ve chosen different colleges. Directions changed, and we keep in touch every so often, but there is no love lost, and if called to fight, I will, but the reasons have to be a little more just than they were when the frat was 90-something, when all it took was a demeaning look from across the yard. I’ve become the bruh who comes back with all the knowledge, ready to give it to any of the young ones who ask. The bruh who still believes strongly in the histories and traditions of the fraternity, simultaneously understanding the urgent need for change. I’m dealing with the gray area. I continue to stress exclusivity over most things, and although I believe strongly that money is coming between my philosophies and The Frat’s, I pay dues on time, and encourage others to do the same. We’re growing. 

Kappa Alpha Psi is the only frat I know. My shimmy is old, and my translation of “Achievement in every field of human endeavor” seems different from what’s currently being taught, but I am a Nupe no matter how it’s translated, or how far from the inception the word has traveled. That will never change. This year, I’ll work a little harder and see what comes out in 104. 

Happy 103, Frat. 

Darnell Lamont Walker – Fall 2k2 – Ship: N. II D.E.E.P. – Deuce Klub – Tail – S.P.E.R.M.

Eyes of Needles and Prayers

My beggars’ prayer: oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.

Since kindergarten, I’ve learned more about me from others than I have from myself. Some true, and some not, and I take it all with a spoonful of cream of wheat because I love it so much. I ask them often, though, to sit and listen to my side so there are no misunderstandings.

In conversations today, I learned of relationships I’ve never had and never knew existed intentions that have never crossed my mind and lives I never knew existed. I’ve learned long ago not to let it bother me too much. Its flattering sometimes. Well, not the time I learned I was in a two year relationship with someone I barely met, but other stories I admire.

I am saddened each time this has happened, however, at the audacity shown, and others’ inability to turn the mirror toward themselves. Lorraine Hansberry taught us, among so many other things, that it is harder to look through the eye of a needle than to look around one.

“I am not Jesus,” I told my high school teacher, Ms. Bowles, when she called me at 9pm on a school night accusing me of being the Christ. Flattered. “But,” I told her, if you need me to be that for you to justify your lack of sufficient knowledge, talent and skill, I will. We soon became fast friends. She tanked me for teaching her to look through the eye at the world. Not in those words, really, but I knew what she meant.

Let me teach you: ask questions so there are no misunderstandings. Self reflect, and listen to others.

Oh lord, it’s been done.

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