Girls Trip to New Orleans: This Time It Was Spiritual

Hot on Bourbon St.

New Orleans is by far one of my favorite cities. Its richness in culture, cuisine, and the Arts is unmatched. No other city in the world like it. So, when the talks started that there was going to be a trip with a group of people I thoroughly enjoy being around, I was all in! Things happen, plans changed, and the trip to NOLA dwindled down to four of us. Flights and hotel were booked and we took off on a summer adventure!

New Orleans in the summer ain’t for the weak baby. Hot is an understatement. But the city never misses a beat no matter the weather. Let me just say a little bit about the extraordinary ladies I traveled with:

KENN

• all charisma 
• the life of the party 
• a great Mom 
• loyal
• supportive
• a consummate cheerleader
• numbers are a language she speaks fluently
• lowkey mixologist
• dancing queen 
• down for the get down

Kenn inspires me to see my gifts in ways that I often do not.

KIA

• reminds me of safety
• a calm spirit 
• a sacred vessel of light
• warm 
• welcoming
• her hugs bring peace
• a great Mom
• as sweet as the treats she uses her culinary gifts to make
• a nurturer
• the anchor within a support system

Kia inspires me to stand strong in peace.

TIFF

• my closie
• a confidant
• a deep thinker
• an analyzer
• a problem solver
• a dream chaser
• Chef-Girl-R-Tiff
• solo dolo
• a great Mom
• a compassionate wife

Tiff inspires me to unmute in spite of introversion. 

Needless to say, I was surrounded by so much love from these 3 women in the best city in the world. It was amazing.

We did all the usual things NOLA tourists do. We drank, ate, partied on Bourbon, the usual. However, this time the trip was so much different than the typical shenanigans I got into in my early 30s. This time the city gifted me with a newfound life momentum to carry with me home. 

I arrived to the city a day before the ladies. When Tiff arrived the morning after I was on a phone interview. She too loves the city so much so she used that time to get reacclimated to the French Quarter streets. There’s so much mystery down a cobble stoned French Quarter street. She came across a Black owned sanctuary shop called Selah. Selah is full of handcrafted aromatic herbs and resins as well as all of the crystals and guides one might need to support their spiritual journey. When I finally linked up with Tiff she was raving about Selah and how she was drawn in because she could smell its power from the street. She also talked about her experience with the woman who owned the shop. The woman has medium gifts and spoke to Tiff about her life through divine downloads of energy and visions. 

This trip would become a spiritual journey for all of us really quickly.

Kenn and Kia arrived later that night and we had fun on Bourbon. 

The next day after a bomb breakfast and drinks overflowing at The Ruby Slipper Café, Tiff took us to Selah to experience what she had on the day before. By the time we walked through 96 degree weather to get there I was exhausted and mentally checked out. Kenn had brought us each personal fans, so I sat down on an antique mahogany bench that was placed strategically under a palm plant next to a small floor alter with a lit white candle, incense, sage and other relics. I watched as my friends looked around the shop. Tiff occasionally brought handmade sage blends over for me to smell. Kenn was in deep connection and conversation with the shop owner which warmed my heart. I closed my eyes briefly to see if I was as hot inside as I was outside. Don’t judge me it’s a thing I do. Once the ladies finished their purchases they came over in the section I was in probably gearing up to motivate me to get up off that bench as they had to do throughout the entire trip. Tiff sat next to me and introduced me to the shop owner as her fellow introvert Gemini friend. 

I’d say in this moment is where I felt a shift. A cool breeze beyond the hand held fan Kenn gave me began flowing through the area I was sitting in. The woman herself began sweating as she started speaking visions she saw about me and my life. 

Get back in nature.

You are a presence.

You step back and allow others to shine but you take up space.

You don't judge.

You let others be.

Heal your blood so you can heal us. 

I see you in white, barefoot, with a tall stick in your hand, and people are surrounding you for healing.

Don’t let everyone into your sacred space. 

Light a white candle for your Dad everyday.

I see greatness in you.

Tiff began balling, Kenn followed and Kia went and grabbed the tissues. I teared up not really knowing how to process this information. Honestly, it was a bit frightening. I realize Tiff’s tears came from the place where she has seen these very things in me. Kenn too. Admittedly, it's not something I saw in myself or even think about necessarily. However, I’m adamant that I must live my life in empathy and love especially the older I get. I’ve experienced so many women, women way older than me even, who are the opposite and I made a promise to myself that I would do the work to never become that type of woman. Kia grabbed the white candles for me with the quickness and said she would light one too with me. The shop owner encouraged us to visit The Tree of Life before leaving New Orleans. She pointed to me saying, “especially you. Sit under it. Get reconnected with nature.” The shop owner hugged me tight for awhile before we left. We left the shop with our hearts full. Kenn even said she didn’t feel the liquor buzz from breakfast anymore. 

We did a little shopping at the French Market, got snowballs, toasted to life over Casamigos shots, Kia and Kenn had Tarot card readings and we all went to see The Tree of Life.

The Tree of Life experience is a NOLA gem. It reminded Kenn of the tree from Eve’s Bayou. It’s nestled at the center of Audubon Park. It’s limbs tower over the grassy land and bow to the sun. Adorned with Louisiana Spanish Moss its 400 year old presence aesthetically takes up space. Without it the park would be a bare lifeless place. It protected us from the heat, providing a cool, relaxing place to rest. This tree was a visual representation of what the shop owner saw in me. I felt grounded under her limbs. Comforted leaning on her trunk. I didn’t want to leave. I knew the shop owner had shared foreseen truths with me. I needed to figure out how to align myself with the understanding of who I am with who I’m meant to be. I implore you if you've gotten this far on my blog post to visit Selah and The Tree of Life. Both unforgettable places.

A photo I took of Kia under The Tree of Life

Another cherished moment on our trip for me was the time we spent with Kenn’s family as they celebrated her cousin’s graduation from college. I was excited to see a different part of New Orleans beyond downtown. We joined Kenn’s family on the West Bank.  It was a Black family backyard cookout which is always a vibe. A vibe I definitely miss. We sat down at the table with Kenn’s uncle and ‘nem. Talked, laughed, ate Swai fried with love and drizzled with Crystals Hot Sauce fresh out the grease till way past sunset. Uncle called me, Kia, Kenn and Tiff “DC, Maryland, Virginia, and Philly” based on where we lived and are from. He told the best Uncle stories and made sure we were taken care of.

We had planned after the cookout to go see Kelly Price at Club 7140. We told Uncle about our plan and well, that opened up a can of worms. “7140? On the eaaaaast?” He told us how dangerous it was on that side of town, not to stop and get gas, and to be careful. He occasionally would call other people over to the table and ask them had they been to 7140 and they’d all holler, “on the eaaaast?” They all expressed the same sentiments and precautionary tales as Uncle. It didn’t matter though because we spent so much time soaking up the laughter, southern hospitality, and kindred spirit that we missed the window to get back to the hotel to change for the concert. The moment you realize that your friendship has merged itself with the love of family that is a feeling I never want to lose.

We ended our trip talking, laughing, and standing firmly in our bond as framily. 

Out of all the times I’ve been to New Orleans this trip by far is the one I will cherish the most.

Under The Sunset Series: Azarri (& the B. Crew)

Painting by: Amani Lewis

Friday’s summer nights stand alone thought Azarri as she looked in the mirror. 

She never planned out her outfits but always got dressed like she was under assignment. There were a few potential late night propositions in her texts. Ignoring the text messages gave her Leo ego the full body stroke it needed.

Her style was a vibe though. 

Eclectically symmetric. 

It was a slightly see-through bandeau top, with paper bag waist tribal print gaucho pants, paired with custom graffiti Vans kind of evening. She adorned her neck with Ankara balls and chains. She threw her blonde locs up into a messy ponytail, grabbed her jacket, skateboard and keys. She looked at herself in the mirror by the front door for a final check in, and headed out the door rubbing her dark purple matte lips together.

Before she hit the corner...

“Amber Alert! Amber Alert!” Drunk Eddie yelled when he saw her. Every time he saw her. 

“Each day through my window,” he sang, “I watch her as she passes byyyy." 

Azarri smirked and rolled her eyes simultaneously.

“Won’t you bring Eddie a little somethin' somethin' when you come back out beautiful Zarri?” Drunk Eddie asked. 

"I'll see what I can do," Azarri replied. They both knew she'd bring him a 5th of Jameson out like she did every Friday.

The corner store was packed with its usual hood rich suspects. Mr. Farmer stood at the counter meticulously filling out his lottery ticket like he was filing important paperwork. 

"Azzari Renaye Brinkley!" Mr. Farmer was the only one around the way to call her by her full name. She let him cook because he was old, harmless, and used to "tickle her grandmother's feathers."

"Give me two numbers, any numbers" he said.

 “94 and 7” Azarri said without hesitancy. She had the number 94 tattooed on the back of her left shoulder and she had 7 piercings. These numbers were more than just numbers to her.

"Good numbers, good numbers" he smiled his denture-less smile and eagerly wrote them down.

Azarri went to the cooler and grabbed a water.  When she came back to the counter, Saalim had already pulled her White Grape Swishers and a 5th of Jameson from behind the counter. 

"Let me get a lighter too."

"What color?"

"Purple."

She looked through the big tub of Now & Laters and pulled out 2 banana flavored packs.

"$24.50, I give you lighter free."

"Thanks Saalim, see you next week." 

"Bye Mr. Farmer."

"Bye Baby."

“Amber Aler-" Drunk Eddie couldn’t get it out before Azarri handed him the Jameson bottle. He popped it open, leaned back against the bricks and took a long gulp. Azarri kept walking down the street.

She loved Brooklyn on Fridays in the summer. Even though the city was changing, she was grateful that some of the same people still lived on her block from when she moved in with her grandmother in '94.

She got a text, it read:
We under the bridge.

She popped a Now & Later in her mouth, hopped on her skateboard and took off. Skating was her thing. In high school she started an all girls skate crew, Bitches Ridin' Concrete Waves, or B. Crew for short. The group held on strong until senior year when it kind of disintegrated, like most things do senior year in high school. Azarri still had her skateboard garnished with B. Crew stickers. She even had her grandmother sew B. Crew patches on her jacket in high school which she still wore till this day. The rest of her crew, Blake, Tanisha, Chrome, and Mandy had real grown-up lives and skateboarding wasn’t a part of it. They still got together every other Friday under the Kosciuszko Bridge to watch the sunset. 

“Be an angel and say your prayers at sunset so God can bless your demon time at dusk.” Blake always said.

She slid up to the spot just as Mandy was climbing up on the hood of Blake’s Dodge Cutlass and started yelling, “Happy Friday Earthlings! We androids hate it here!”

“Speak for yourself, Mandy!” Azarri said as she approached her friends. 

"I know you better get down off my car!" Blake commanded.

"Ain't nobody gonna hurt this old ass spaceship!" Mandy rebutted.

They all surrounded Azarri and gave her their B. Crew hug and secret handshake. 

“The only reason you think you're an android is because you moved all the way to Long Island.” Azarri teased.

“Touché my nigga, touché. But at least I ain’t out here smelling like a Hotep Banana Split!" Mandy always came with a comeback.

They all laughed.

"It’s the Now & Laters."

"Oh we know, and whatever oil you bought from the oil man on the R train." Chrome chimed in. 

"You an android because who the hell eats banana Now & Laters? Gimmie one!" Mandy added.

"You got the Swishers?" Blake changes the subject on a mission.

"Yep!" Azarri hands them to Blake. 

"White Grape! That’s my dawg."

Blake takes the Swishers and gets in her car.

Azarri leans on the car with Tanisha and Chrome while Mandy attempts to ride Azarri's skateboard laying on her belly.

"Weeeee" Mandy squealed.

"She childish," Chrome said with a side eye.

The sun began shifting. 

The sky turned burnt orange with faint streaks of yellow, blue, and purple.

“Oh this some Arabian Nights shit!” Mandy took out her phone to capture the moment.

“Don’t forget to say your prayers!” Blake shouted from the car window.

Blake turned up the Gospel music in her car.

“Here she go with her Bishop Desmond Tutu bullshit.” Tanisha said.

They all laughed. 

Except for Azarri. She instead closed her eyes and began praying internally. 

“God, it’s me Azarri…Zarri for short. You knew that. Umm…I need you God. Please tell me what to do."

"Zarri is you praying for real?" Mandy asked.

Azarri quickly opened her eyes.

"Nah just thinking."

They all looked at her skeptically.

Blake passed a blunt to Chrome out the window. 

They all smoked and laughed. 

Blake sang along to Marvin Sapp's, Never Would Have Made It, and leaned back in her car seat.

"Blake you're high my guy!" Chrome laughed.

"I'm closer to God when I'm high sis." Blake explained..

Azarri leaned back on the hood of the car and looked up at the sky. 

She closed her eyes.

“God…me again. I’m scared. I’m really scared.”

"Zarri, don’t let the Kush push you to sleep. Fight the temptation. You’re a conqueror beloved.” Blake said.

They all laughed.

Except Azarri. She opened her eyes and sat up.

“I’m pregnant ya’ll and I’m scared. I can't believe I finally said that out loud.”

Wait. What? By who? Blake gets out of the car.

"I’m gonna be an auntie? Yes! Bitch let me Google matching outfits for me and my nephew! Yaaasss!" Mandy takes out her phone and starts her Google search.

Dawg, you definitely shouldn’t be smoking pregnant! Tanisha criticizes.

"Or skating!" Chrome adds.

"Did you hear me Zarri?" Blake asks, "Who is the guy?"

"Eduardo." Azarri confesses.

DRUNK EDDIE?!?!? They yelled.

"Yea, girl you definitely need to pray!" Mandy always came with a comeback.

Bday Reflections III: 38 - The Midas Year

It’s the day before my 38th birthday! I’m currently on the train heading to NYC to bring in my birthday with a few of my friends. I feel like 37 went by so fast it’s actually quite scary. I spent the year in quarantine like most people but when I did emerge from the house I experienced memories that will last for a lifetime. I was a bridesmaid in my closie Ashy’s wedding, spent a week with my youngest Goddaughter in Chicago, traveled to Mexico with my Mommy, and most recently help throw an epic baby shower for Ashy! Creatively I kept pushing by writing and curating new media content. I also am making progress on the documentary I’m working on. I liked year 37 in all of its solitude due to the pandemic. 

As I transition into year 38, I’m calling this The Midas Year. This term was prophesied over my life by my Jam. “This is gonna be your Midas year,” she said. Do you guys know the story of King Midas? Well, you know I love a good story, chile.  

King Midas is one of the popular kings in Greek Mythology. Because of King Midas’s nature of kindness and hospitality, Dionysus offered him one wish. Midas wished that whatever he touched be turned into gold. The wish was granted. Now, seemingly that’s cool right? Thing is Midas ain’t think that thing through, chile. Men, boy I tell ya! Everything and I do mean everything he touched turned to gold. He accidentally killed his daughter Zoë because when he touched her she turned to dead gold. He couldn’t touch his food because it too would turn to gold. Midas ended up dying of starvation. 

In year 38 I’m taking this centuries old mythological legend and perfecting it. Call me, Queen Midas. This time I’ll be placing God at the center in affirmation that everything I touch WILL turn to gold. Plain and simple, I will live my life at its purest, most authentic, and highest quality state. I declare and decree that whatever I desire in this year WILL happen in this year and will happen in abundance. 

That new job I want, I will get and I will be the best woman for the job. - GOLD

My prayers for financial wealth, wellness and wisdom for me and all generations of my family will be in motion this year. - GOLD

My mental and physical health will continue to blossom this year. - GOLD

That business I want to start will get started this year. - GOLD

The projects I want to complete will get completed this year. - GOLD

All my relationships will continue to bring support, love, and joy this year. - GOLD

Who I am and want to be as a creative in the world will manifest itself this year. - GOLD

Because I’ve been blessed with the Midas touch. 

Year 38, WILL be The Midas Year!

Bday Reflections II: Advocating for Myself

MUA: Danni Sellers

"Why do we do that? "We don't speak up when we don't like it. We just say Mmmhmm, uh huh, in a high pitched tone. I know the tone."  - Danni

I recently had a photo shoot with my friend, Ayanah George, I've linked her work for your viewing and booking pleasure. She's the absolute best. The shoot was under the creative direction of beauty and lifestyle guru, Ajahmure Clovis of Ajahmure Beauty. I've also linked her business for your perusing and purchasing pleasure. Her products need to be added to your beauty regimens. Ajahmure who I affectionately call Jam scheduled makeup for the shoot with her friend Danni of Face Value Artistry. Danni is a whole vibe, a phenomenal makeup artist, and a forward thinking stylist. Now, listen ya'll I just dropped 3 links to 3 amazing Black women entrepreneurs. 3 sacred gems. 

Don't say I ain't never give you nothing! 😂

I was excited about this shoot because its almost my birthday and getting all dolled up to take professional pictures is a perfect gift. Also, the world hates FAT dark skinned women and committing to a shoot that reveals who I aesthetically am to the world is a form of activism. I definitely feel like I'm advocating for my place and the place of women who look like me when I commit to doing any project that will be shared with the general public. 

Confession: At almost 38 years old, advocating for myself is a whole struggle. I'm talking anxiety triggering.

When Danni gave me the mirror and I looked at the work she had done the knots in my stomach subsided. I am always nervous sitting in anybody's chair that does my makeup or hair because I don't know if I'm going to end up looking like a catastrophe or not. Danni sensed that I think. We started discussing why we don't say anything when we don't like our hair, nails, makeup etc. It was nice to hear I wasn't the only one who struggles with this. I think thats why I surround myself with women like Jam who will say what needs to be said no matter who or what the situation is.

For me, its not just beauty clinicians work I don't speak up about. At my closie Ashley's baby shower I was supposed to talk to a vendor about being late and negotiating the hired hours and/or payment. I froze. Heart was rat-ta-tat-tatting. I had to send my closie, Tiff, over to talk the man, chile. 

Sending a meal back at a restaurant...struggle.

Advocating for myself at work...struggle.

Following up on a job application...struggle.

Discussing issues with my family...struggle.

But let me have to advocate for someone else, or go to bat for someone else I am all in! Why?

It's actually gotten worse over the years and spending a year in quarantine I think has heightened it.

During this new year of life I am committing myself to advocating for myself. I know this is going to be a challenge but I believe this will change the trajectory of my life moving forward. When people say they get taken advantage of because they don't speak up or set boundaries for themselves, I'm a living witness that they aren't lying. 

Is this a struggle for you to?

Let's work on this together.

Bday Reflections I: The Time Has Come the Walrus Said

In undergrad I had an 8:00 AM class. Now, you know 8:00 AM classes in college are always so hard to get to especially if you’ve been out partying the night before. The professor of this class would arrive however, at 8:15 AM. He was always disheveled carrying a whole lot of unnecessary things in his hands, except the Venti Starbucks coffee cup. That coffee, was definitely an essential item to be carrying. The class would generally arrive before he did. If you were later than he was, he wouldn’t let you in class.

He’d enter the room and wouldn’t speak. He’d walk in, brush past us, leaving a scent of amber musk, menthol, and coffee in the air. He’d put his stuff down on the desk with his back facing the class and take what seemingly was the longest sip of his coffee. Savoring it. I always wondered what his Starbucks order was? You can tell a lot about a person based on their Starbucks order. After he was done, he cleared his throat as if he was starting his internal engine. He’d then turn around and say to the class, 

“The time has come the Walrus said...” 

This is a line from the peculiar poem The Walrus and the Carpenter by Lewis Carroll. In fact, Tweedledum and Tweedledee recite the poem to Alice in the Through the Looking Glass novel. The poem tells the story of the complacent Walrus and a featherbrained Carpenter who trick a group of oysters to come on a walk with them only to eat them. Throughout my scholastic journey I’ve encountered this poem quite a bit actually. Lots of acting teachers use it as a tongue twister during speech and voice warm ups. But this was a Peace Studies course. Yes, I’d argue I went to one of the best liberal arts colleges in the world. Peace Studies? Please and thank you! I enjoyed this class and even managed to secure an A. Mind you, this was in the middle of a Chicago winter where staying in bed at 8 AM instead of bearing the cold would've been highly preferred. But I pushed through the grueling Lake Michigan winds to sit in class and talk about the concept of peace in a world that is not peaceful.

I understood later on that the professor would arrive late because he knew 8:00 AM was hard for students. So, he gave us a 15 minute grace period to get there. Actually, more like 25 because by the time he finished sipping his coffee and revved up his internal engine with his back to the class, students were able to sneak in before he started.

I finished the class however, having no clarity as to why he would start each class by saying, “the time has come the walrus said...”

 

The entire line in the poem reads:

 

The time has come the walrus said

To talk of many things

Of shoes and ships and sealing wax

Of cabbages and kings

Of why the sea is boiling hot

and weather pigs have wings

 

The Walrus says this to the oysters right before they realize they are going to be eaten. This poem is chaotic lunacy. The sun and the moon are shining at the same time, oysters can walk and wear shoes, and not to mention a talking Walrus is friends with a human. The real absurdity of it all however, is that 20 years later and 3 days before my 38th birthday I am up at 8:00 AM thinking about why my Peace Studies professor started each lesson with that quote? Welcome to my anxious brain.

Today, 20 years later and 3 days before my 38th birthday, I think I get it. The absurdities in this world are plentiful just like this poem. But the action word is “talk.” Communication is by far the most important yet hardest things for people to master. I know firsthand, that’s why I started blogging. I often suck at verbalizing how I feel when talking. Writing is my best form of communication. My comfort zone. Conversations can be hard and sometimes full of tension and discord. I opt out of that more than not and when I finally do speak, I’m exploding because I’ve held it in for so long. I recognize the choice to table hard conversations and letting sentiments fester is self-inflicted abuse that I must stop.

 

The time has come to talk of many things.

 

My professor was right.

 

You can’t grow, learn, change, heal, and be at peace if you don’t talk about the absurdities ailing you. 

 

During this new year around the sun, I am committing myself to working on improving my verbal communication. Coming out of my comfort zone of just writing about it and transitioning into also talking about it.

You with me?

 

Let’s do it together!

 

The Midnight Miracle

The Midnight Miracle's promo video appeared on my IG feed. It is a podcast hosted by Dave Chappelle, yasiin bey, Talib Kweli and friends. I immediately smiled because I love these three gentleman for various reasons. I listened to the trailer and cackled at Dave’s account of a time he had gotten high off ‘shrooms while maneuvering his way around New York City. The story was told over the jazz stylings of Robert Glasper who melodically retells Round Midnight by Thelonious Monk. Glasper is a melodic griot and Dave is an impeccable storyteller. My ears were blessed. Dave ends his storytelling of that high day by sharing that a picture of him and his wife from that day, years ago, was mailed to him and it brought back so many memories. “I'm trying to tell you, any time we get together we never know if it's going to be the time that we'll make the memory that we never forget,” said Dave. “Welcome to The Midnight Miracle,” he says with that smokey warmth in his voice. Then in pops horns, drum roll, rest, repeat, crescendo, and a yell, “Ahhhhhh!” 4 worth it minutes spent on social media, I must say. I saved the trailer to wherever posts on IG go while mental noting that I would return and listen to other episodes later.

A couple days had passed and I knew I’d be driving in the car by myself so it was the perfect time to catch up on podcasts I’d missed. I remembered The Midnight Miracle and went searching for it. The Midnight Miracle could only be found on Luminary. I had an Apple user entitlement moment I must admit. I went ahead and downloaded the Luminary app and saw that there was a 7 day free trial. After the trial there are yearly or monthly payment options. “Lawd, not another streaming service payment,” I wallowed. Anyway, I deemed subscribing worth it because as a creative I crave inspiration. I knew it would be worth it. I wasn’t wrong. 

I got  all cued up and headed out to the car free and clear of the cicada war zone. 

Pressed play. 

There's a short clip with yasiin bey praying over an engineered pipe organ. Let me just pause here because those who know me know that I love yasiin. Adore! I’m talking packing up and moving to South Africa to live with him...in my dreams. Crushing on the intellectual Black man hard. Don’t box me in as a fan girl, ok? I'd like to think of myself as more of an energy believer.

"To the one who has created the all" he prays “you know us better than we know ourselves and we know ourselves better than others know or pretend to know us. So, pardon us for our shortcomings whether they be known or unknown. Make us better than whatever they say. And do not make us responsible for whatever they say. Amen.” Prayer is the only thing really getting me through these days. The consistency of prayer as practice has always been inspirational to me. I couldn't think of any better way to start a podcast.

The Midnight Miracle so far has 4 released episodes. 2 episodes were released May 11, 2021 and the other 2 on May 25, 2021. The episodes are labeled Side A and Side B. I read in an okayplayer article that Dave plans to release the podcast on vinyl so this makes perfect sense. The episode even starts with the sound of a vinyl record spinning against a record player needle. At the start of the first episode, How to Inspire (Side A) which you can listen to for free, Dave begins reciting in Arabic a Quranic command which he translates in English as meaning, “we all come from god and to god we all will return.” He goes on to pose the question, “how do you keep a despondent person alive?” yasiin discusses his friendship with Amy Winehouse who died of alcohol poisoning in 2011. Dave discusses his interactions with Robin Williams who committed suicide 2014. They all discuss the recent death of founding Roots member Malik B. The friends on this episode, Radio Rahim, Mo Amer, Chris Rock, Donnell Rawlings, Jarobi White, and Questlove all chimed in. The hosts don’t necessarily claim to have the answer to the question but listeners are left with Dave’s call to action, “I don’t know how to inspire anyone to live...just live," he encourages. The call to action is echoed by a clip of Stevie Wonder singing, “when you feel your life’s too hard gone head have a talk with God.” I drove down F Street crying. I feel for those who struggle with depression enough to succumb to their suicidal ideations. As a person who finds myself captured by depression at times it’s also scary. There’s also the burden of an empath which many creatives carry that many do not understand. Life is hard and can be lonely in a room full of people.  The act of living in a world of nouns...soul draining. So I don’t have an answer to Dave’s question either. But the hope for me is found in the luxury of prayer. I say luxury because we are all able to bow our heads to whatever our belief is and surrender our deepest woes and desires. yasiin’s prayer reminded me that praying in its purest state can get you to the next day even if you are hanging on by a thread. 100% prayer no additives. How humanity should pray for ourselves, each other, and our world, coupled with a large side of therapy.

Gladiator Circus World (Side B) puts listeners on high alert through an orchestrated soundscape with an alarm clock sound effect, angry crowds chanting, and an audio clip of 45 telling the good ole boys how loved and special they are and to fight. We all lived through that. Won’t ever forget it. The President of the United States inciting a race war. yasiin terms it as a “gladiator f*ckn circus.” Talib talks about using his platform to go toe to toe with racist hate mongers on Twitter. Hilariously, Dave calls Talib a “racism sommelier.” Clips of Alex Jones talking about eating his neighbors and Rush Limbaugh's moronic statements are discussed with friends, Questlove, Radio Rahim, Lamorne Morris, and Jon Hamm who all chime in. yasiin closes out the episode with a call to action for listeners to be “committed and vigilant to being beautiful and sincere in whatever way that you can” accompanied with music by Black Star.

It’s the creatives who are saving the world. We see it everyday. I’m grateful that these men knew their assignment and gifted us with one of if not the best podcasts of the century. Full of everything that makes our culture beautiful.

The newest episodes are out. Go listen! Let’s discuss! Hit me up!

Under The Sunset Series: Topaz

I’m having trouble sleeping. I lay down at 9pm. Have me a cup of sleepy time tea. I silence my phone and turn off the TV. I turn off all the lights too except the light from my diffuser. I let the diffuser mist all night with the Lullaby essential oil blend. I got a new weighted blanket. One that heats up. I read a post on Facebook about weighted blankets helping people sleep. So I bought one. It does everything but help me fall asleep. I just lay there weighed down thinking about random stuff. Most times a rerun of my life will stream through my mind. Shits better than Netflix imma tell you, but I never get that 'are you still watching' notification, you know? 'Cause I don't wanna watch no more. Like the shit never stops. Before I know it my 6am alarm is going off and I haven’t gotten any sleep. As a result I’m drained most days. My whole body is tired. Even my fingertips. I looked on Web MD to find out what was going on with my fingertips and they said that it could be my kidneys. My kidneys are malfunctioning. I could have diabetes. A vegan diabetic? You mean to tell me I change my whole lifestyle and still get diabetes? Shit is crazy! I wonder which one of my doctors injected me with diabetes? Probably that Dr. Samuels with his ugly ass. He used to read my BMI numbers like he was running a bingo game for senior citizens on a cruise ship. I hated his skeletor looking ass. Can I get disability for my fingertips? I don’t feel like doing anything let alone logging onto the computer to fake good mornings on Zoom calls full of simple minded human robots who only care about themselves. I don’t feel like getting dressed anymore. I don’t feel like putting on clothes made in China for pennies that I have to buy on a credit card in America because prices are inflated beyond my tax bracket. I gotta pay my rent, utilities, car note, and student loans. My entire paycheck is eaten up by bills! Hell, I had to pay you a $40 copay just to sit here and watch you look at me with glazed over eyes, shaking your head, and writing in that book. Why do I have to pay $40 every visit, huh? I’m already paying for health insurance! You a healthcare provider right? Why aren't my sessions already paid for if I'm paying for health insurance? Obamacare my ass! Shit should be called Financial Prison Care! It doesn’t make any sense. I get no relief on anything. Nothing. It’s like what’s the point of...

Topaz pauses.

What’s the point of living? There I said it! What's the point of living in this hell hole we call life? You probably going to go ahead and write down in your book that I'm crazy right? Gonna tell me I’m depressed again, right? What medicine you gonna put me on now? Another antidepressant?

Topaz reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of pills.

Let's see what we have here shall we? Escitalopram. Yeah you prescribed me this shit said it would help me. With what exactly? It don’t work! Matter of fact I looked it up and the side effects were nausea, dizziness, sweating, and guess what? In-friggin'-somnia! You pumping me with meds that are causing me not to get any damn sleep and then act like I got a problem? No, you the problem! Oh and it lowers your sex drive. Ya'll medics always trying to have control over the Black woman's body. 

Have you taken Escitalopram before? No? It makes me feel like death's 1st cousin. Like, I’m being dominated by an abusive puppeteer. Constantly dictating what I should do. What I should feel. I’m not taking this shit anymore! So you can have it back and I want a refund. Y’all so worried about suicidal ideations, you take that shit so Esi can show you what a suicidal ideation actually feels like. I don’t want to be on any meds. I don’t need meds. What I need is for the world not to be such a fucked up place. What I need is to be able to walk out my front door and be a woman in the world and not constantly have to worry about somebody trying to steal my womanhood and my sanity from me. I need people to care enough to mind their own damn business. I need people to prioritize being better humans so that I can fucking breathe without being judged! This "I can’t breathe" shit is real! There ain’t a physical knee on my neck but it damn sure might as well be.  

So many intentional roadblocks. 

Modern day slavery. 

You hear bout those baby girls being kidnapped in Nigeria? Over 300 baby girls! They can’t just let us be can they? Putting us right back on the auction block! It’s like damn, we still selling our own people to the white man? Again? Like damn! Ya'll ain't learned ya'll lesson the first time? You don’t love yourself enough to see your momma, sister, auntie, grandma in that baby girl eyes? She don’t have a right to have an unbothered childhood? To be carefree and untouched? Evil. Pure evil. Y’all need to put them evil muthafuckers on Escitalopram. That'll set they asses straight! Yea, let them take it and get they evil asses right on up out of here. I will never understand monetary gain off the backs of human lives. Evil. Sheer evil. They sayin' the vaccine will make you infertile well gimmie that shit because I don’t want to bring a child into this sick world anyway. I want to save my unborn daughter from being snatched up and violated. I want to save my unborn son from being used for target practice. Give me that damn vaccine! Make me infertile!

All of this mess, this inhumane shit, is torture!

Topaz leans her head back in the chair and looks up at the ceiling.

What Pac say?

I've been trapped since birth, cautious, 'cause I'm cursed
And fantasies of my family, in a hearse
And they say it's the white man I should fear
But, it's my own kind doin' all the killin' here.

She whispers to herself, only God can judge me. Topaz gets up and walks over to the couch and lays on her stomach.

I logged off from work yesterday and turned on the news and seen Biden talking bout Black History Month and bombing Syria in the same damn breath. What I vote for this nigga for man? We the people need these bogus ass stimulus checks you 'sposed to been sent! We need some student loan debt forgiveness! But you got your ass all over in Syria’s lane bombing and shit. I’m tired of these mortal kombat ass politicians man. I turned off the news so quick. Made me a camomile tea, rolled me a spliff, and sat on my balcony. I was trying to catch these views you know? Watch the sunset and shit. Ms. Chen started yelling bout she called the cops on me cause I ain’t have no clothes on. I was on MY damn balcony! She stay all over in everybody else’s apartment! That's why I can't rally round the Asian community. All the crap they being dealt right now is payback for how they treat us Black folks! Black folks stay rallying round and supporting our oppressors. I’m stopping that shit at the doe!

Officer came banging on my door and fined me $1500. Something else I gotta pay! Said he ain't arrest me cause of corona. He was typing using this 5G device and I ain’t have no mask on cause I was in my house. Nigga ain’t care that he was tracking corona all up in my house using that 5G device. He just wanted more of my hard earned money tied up in his damn pension. 12 killing us and we pay they damn salary? Where they do that at? That's why I ain't paying the IRS till the police stop killing Black people for no damn reason. That officer wanted me too. Looking at me like I'm one of them rotisserie chickens at Costco. Salivating and shit. Talking bout protocol says he has to ask me to put a robe on. He know damn well he wanted to handcuff me to my headboard and bust a round of that Aryan blood up in me, like they did great granny. I don't rock with 12 so he couldn't have gotten so much as a sniff even if he tried. I would've shanked him and threw his ass over to Ms. Chen's balcony since she wanted him there so bad.

Can we normalize nudity? Hell, legalize nudity should be on every billboard everywhere! Tell the GOP to run that ad!

I want to stand naked under the sun forever.

I feel closest to God when I stand naked under the sun.

Being close to God is all I really want anyway.