I’ve been blogging since 2005. Before that it was a whole lot of message board business and chat rooms if we go even further back. Every once and a while I stumble upon old music I uploaded online to some forgotten artist music site that could never compete with the rest of the dot com’s. Today I’m creating this new section on the site called, ‘Old Notes’. It will consist of content from previous post from my early blogger life. Photos, poems, rhymes, short stories… etc. I hope you enjoy.

September 1st 2007

Independent thinking these days seems rare, but I insist that it does in fact exist.

From out of the corners of my thoughts scattered, attempting to make sense of low scoring basketball games, newly installed slum doors with working intercoms pried offah hinges and that button near some intersections that is supposed to make the light change for every guinea pig pedestrian that expels the necessary energy to press it; I find balance.

Unfortunately, finding the meaning of life isn’t as simple as brandishing a miniature Mag-lite and rummaging through cobwebbed storage bins in a dark attic. I didn’t grow up in a house. But my mother did. Even still she didn’t learn the meaning by that method either.

If you stop to watch the low flying aircraft in awe, or walk slower when the rain begins to pour. You may be close to or already know the answer to the age old question of ‘What does it all mean?’ When I say this I think of the chorus of the De La Soul song Three is a Magic Number, which ends with Prince Paul scratching in those same five words. The O’Jays sang that there was a message in the music. Kenneth Gamble wrote: ‘In this day of confusion, we must find the root of the problem in order to solve it. The problem is a lack of truth and communication between man and woman. Therefore, the wrong interpretation of life and life’s purpose has been exposed…’

I purchased a record player some time ago partially because I’m a producer that does, let’s say, ‘musical research’ and also because I realized that my little sisters never experienced what it is to hear the sounds of music lifted from vinyl by a needle then tossed into a receiver and right back out through speakers to ultimately, end up dancing in your ears. I figured, perhaps in doing this I’d help them add pieces to the puzzle of this life’s game. So, in the future when they’ve grown older and left the hands of parents and guardians, they won’t be caught trying to fit all those pieces they’ve collected over time in with a hammer.