Strength

I was once asked. "How do you keep your head up & stand so strong in the worst of times"

I have reflected upon this question & found an answer. I keep my head up by looking to the sky & praying for an answer or a sign. I keep my head high to avoid letting people be able to see the sorrow & fear in my eyes. I stand strong by breaking down in secret. Letting the emotions out into a page or into a bucket of tears. I then build myself up & no longer hold onto what has hurt or scared. Instead I place it aside to remind of me of what I must keep away from. I hide
my insecurity under a ever glowing grin. Thinking of a time once upon a time.

Living a life far past my equals I struggle to find the balance.
Reaching for that dream painted by the women who molded me. Looking for the path in which the told me of. The one set down a long & winding way to a city of eternal contentment. A place few find & many search for. I thought I was given the secret to find it. But now
I only see that the stories in which I was told are only a dream to something not there. Instead it is a place of sublime quiet & peace. Full of smiles & hugs. It is not a long & winding road. It is the
place in which I am now. Contentment has been found. People may throw rocks & slander thoughts but my world is resolute. It can't be dissolved. It is a canvas that has been etched into perfection & shall never fade as long as I see it that way.

Head high.chin up. Standing Strong.

The boy wonder signing off

Ode to the Nice Guys

I read this article and felt it needed to be shared...


Ode to the Nice Guys
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

How I like My Women

I made a reference on twitter the other to how I like my women. The analogy is simple, I like my women like I like my cars. Here is my top 10 Things I look for:

1. Dependable- Like anything else that is a regular in your life, I need both a car and a Woman to be there so you can look to them during times of need and be there in a pinch.

2. speed- Lets face it some females like to take their time and do things their pace. I need a girl who knows what needs to be done and takes care of it.

3.Durable- I have been told I can be rough around the edges at times. I need a car and a woman who can handle my.... aggressive handling

4. Silent but Deadly- Personally cars that you can hear from 3 Blocks away isn't cute. Same with a Woman. Be able to be heard when need be but not all the time.

5. Shoes have to match the Body- Ever see a Mini Van with 23 Inch Rims and it leaves you looking confused??? If you a Woman who Can't Walk in Heels Properly... I CAN NOT deal with you... Sorry

6. Multiple Roles- I need a car that can be a mode of transportation, a temporary bed, a dining room and my "me time" space. I need a woman who can be a Lady in the street and... You know the rest

7. Cost Effective- Some cars are beautiful and turn on the drop of the dime but one thing goes wrong and you need 6 jobs just to fix it. I need a car that keeps money in my pocket and still Great to Ride around in.

8.Comfort- If I cant sit down for more then 10 minutes... There is a problem

9.Great Guide- No one is perfect. We all get lost and mixed up sometimes

10. Look DAMN Good In all Black- Enough Said...

A letter To Myself

Dear Self,

People always tell me "J, You got the Good Life"
"J you Know everybody, What 's Going down tonight???"
"J I kow you hitting that..."

What do people really know? They know only what I show them and what they speculate based off the average male in my postion would strive towards.
That would tally up to sex, partying, sex, making tons of money... Did i Mention Sex?
I am sick and tired of people no longer looking to see who I am and just seeing who they want to see.
I and sick and tired of people assumin I am Perfect.

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I just find myself just wanting to slow down life for a brief moment. Sex i sa game too many people are willing to play and it doesnt excite me as much as it did before.
It thrown out there left and right and the seduction and taboo of it is lost.
If I wanted I could take every offer that was presented to me and add notches to my belt...
But Would be the point? Where would be the fun in that? There is no chase... No mystery... No seduction.

It has been a year since I made choices in my life that were rather drastic and changed my life style for the better.
I have been through so many experiences, seen so many things, done so many crazy and outlandish things and made some memoriable irresponsible choices.
I have enjoyed every second of it... But I sit here now thinking to myself...
Wondering if I have hit my ceiling.. If there is nothing more to challange me.
I look for the chase and thrill but I can't seem to find it.

Been there, Done that. I am 20 yrs old and I have done more things and been in more places in one month then many have done in their lifetimes.
I have gathered Random Facts and watched as people worked their lives away worrying about supporting an unknown future.
That is not me. A tie and a cube isn't where I belong.
I belong out in the world, Feet to pavement making moves and living in the action slowing down only when buisness needs to be handled. When I do slow doen it feels as if there is something out there waiting for me so it can happen.

I feel like an addict looking for a way out. I feel drawn to make it to the next level, to feel accomplished,to do what isn't expected of me and actually make something of myself.

Do I Really want to though?
...
Do I want to grow up and be responsible?
......
Do I want to be the guy with the nice house, car and job???

Because with that comes stress, Headaches and pressure. Do I Really want to take that next step to that new level or Just cruise as I am?

Just bullshit through the Rest of College and stay under the radar as I have become accustom to... Above the level of loser... but under the level of a celebrity... Just that guy who is there and everyone Loves and Knows...

What Do I do???

Signed,

A man Lost In a Sea of Questions

What we all think

Its a New year...

New thoughts, new views of life, New people to influence you. I recently went to an open mic Performance in the beautiful city of New York and on the way home i wrote this... I was inspired by a young woman who started off her poem with the most honest words I have ever heard spoken aloud...

Fuck me..

So because of these words I wrote this, It is entitled
'What We All Think':

Those eyes...
They stare at from across the room. Giving that look to often seen and too often felt on the back of my neck.

This feeling is unbearable like your taking a needle and digging away trying to severe my brain from the stem of my backbone.

I gaze back with a sense of Questioning... Why me? Why now?
Is it not the 21st Century and people should speak freely of the feelings... Rather you stand at the End of the Train car glancing at me wondering...

As I sit through this ride, I open up my eyes and I peer into yours as our Minds unconciously intertwine and the thoughts of the imaginable play stop and rewind and play 3 times over and then both look away and sigh wondering what if...

As you walk past me in the mall as I eat my food in silence do you past me looking the way you do. I stop for a moment and you smirk as you look at me while turn your hips toward me and they hit into position so sharp that its like a shot pointed at me and I feel all at once the things I would do if I ever got my hands on Caramel non-sprayed natural tan.

So what would you do if I looking like a well off man instead of a hoodlum ever approached. Would you scream how you really feel? Or would I be another Black with Locks up in your face saying the same old shit... Or would look at each others Face and say what we both really want to say...

"Trying to fuck???"

-Shocking words from the Boy Wonder signing off...