what comes at the beginning of something big?

Evening friends,

I have expressed nothing but disdain for the new advent of "social networking" sites, but after skirting with the idea I have set up this blog... big tings fe real... "Why?" you ask yourself, well plenty of reasons, to rant, release, express, but also to share (and perhaps be held accountable?) and to start writing regularly. At the end of 2007, I made the very philosophical (and very onerous) decision to create more meaning in my life in 2008. So this is part of this bigger journey and I will use the technology to record it, to post manifestos/hypotheses/revelations/concepts I scribbled in journals for years and generally shoot the "ish" on whatever moves me... which is most everything... hmm..

Livity/love you're wondering? Well, sometimes I am cynical, sarcastic and judgmental and other times I am full of praise, affection and faith but I would like to cultivate a level of tolerance and love regardless of the situation that cannot be shaken... hence livity/love.

Below is a piece I wrote at the end of last year which will give you a glimpse into my "real scene" - the latter term I use often but the depth of the trini term is lost in this hemisphere - the real scene is your the most honest description or explanation of wha gwaan - wait, is this jamaican patois lost on you? you know, wha gwaan, as in what's going on or what's good... check it out, seen?

I must say I'm quite excited bout this, how bout you?

lovelovelove jam


I have stories… I tell you, plenty stories, real stories. But I think a part of me finds it easier to tell them as opposed to write them. This could be the reason why I have hoarded an unfair amount of unfinished notebooks, journals, and diaries… something to do with the ease of telling, a touch of humor here, an exaggeration there, separating myself from its truth, from my truth. It becomes like hearsay, more like some alleged claim, something retold... a familiar blanket, soothing in its cadence, words from my mouth dissipating into the air, released… good bye. Not like word on a page. Concrete. Evidence. Staring back at me. Taunting; hard edges in black and white.

I haven’t written for some time. But I continue to accumulate notebooks… now they taunt me, mock me with their presence, on the table, by my bedside, waiting – waiting for what? Inspiration? A push? A giant leap? Towards? Myself.

You see I planned a path, or thought/think I did, and followed it straight – went to class, wrote the exams, scored high. At this time – life happens all at the same time, doesn’t it? – at this time, I cozied into another path or joined my path with another’s rather. But that doesn’t always work. So after years, I opted out. I got out while others close to me delved deeper… now I feel I am trying to re-build, grow, nurture a fledgling course that is genuine and myself…

Do you know change can sometimes make a whooshing sound, like a gust of wind, blowing up around you, taking things with it, leaving a quiet with the emptiness. Emptiness has no direction. It just stays where you are. Begging for purpose and meaning, passion and hope, begging for feeling nowhere, everywhere, anywhere.

And now, I am alone with myself. I am beside myself. Wondering why. What happened when. Tracing my steps back to the place where I began, maybe five, six, seven, eight years ago, when I began asking these same questions. Who are you? What will you become? What will you choose? Asking myself consciously and unconsciously, implicitly and explicitly. Considering lessons to learn, unlearn, re-learn. Deciding what kind of person I’d like to be ideally. Coming away from an experience with a sense of what to take away (understanding, peace, and forgiveness) and what to leave behind (regret, shame, sadness, anger, and pain). Or at least, trying to do these things…

Then almost becoming consumed with self-reflection, not to the point of vanity, to the point of paralysis really. At times feeling an enormous pressure to deliberately think a certain thought in order to make reality my thought materialized – can you imagine that? Trying to think deliberately… don’t imagine it as tedious, superficial things; I mean big, big, big things, thoughts, truths, plans, ideas… constantly, questioning and debating their validity with myself… but in truth, to afraid to live, to do, to enact anything really risky, really out there, really me… madness. Isn’t it?

Still looking for external affirmation, are we? Am I? No. Just looking for some truth. Some concrete truth to hold onto. Some eternal, real, honest truth.

This life, every experience is wrought with love and goodness, hate and badness, but only if you feel it – if you can bear to feel it. If you are brave enough to feel it. Sometimes, I am. Other times… other times, I am afraid. I am afraid to mess it up, do it wrong, make it worse… fail. Be embarrassed. The real question is the origin of this fear. That is the real question. One cannot overcome what one does not understand… right?

Sunday, December 30, 2007

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