First Sunday Quarantine: A Time to Reflect

After Trump’s election four years ago, I sat in front of this very mirror at home in Long Island to capture that moment of reflection I was experiencing.

An alarm sounded off in me to get my shit together because a storm was coming. At the time I felt so incomplete. I was 26, but still stagnating in adolescence. But things changed rapidly after taking that photo and stating my aspirations to the Universe.

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The Aftermath of Kavanaugh

I, and so many, are currently walking with so much internalized rage due to the direction this country has taken because of the fact that we had a progressive black president. We live and function with so much rage.

I was borne into a world that told me we were Martin Luther King’s dream come true. That finally, after centuries of systemic torture, we lived in a post racial society. I was raised to believe that if you dream you can achieve. I believed in conviction. But this world today mocks my naïveté.

It’s hard living in a world that goes out of its way to negate my existence. It’s a silly world focused on trivial manners. It was all so simple once. Our ancestors were carefree. We don’t know what freedom is.

I have my own goals and dreams that’s hard enough to pull of in a stable society. I want to achieve my purpose and stay focused. But I wonder about the rebels of revolutions past…

They didn’t enter this world with overturning ruling classes as their goal. Their dream lives too were derailed due to conflicts out of their control. Eventually, they were forced to take action in the face of impossible odds.

People don’t fold to oppression, it’s against human nature. The moment comes when tides turn and empires are challenged. Tea ends up in harbors. Slave ships get taken over by its captives. Medieval fortresses get ran up on.

I do believe we are descending upon the horizon of a historic revolution. You can’t double down on centuries of injustice, greed, and unbridled hatred and think things will keep carrying on as is. I look forward to our grandchildren however, because it won’t be us.

We internalized the propaganda that this place is the greatest country on earth and can’t undo it. We think this system is efficient although historically it’s neglected and taken advantage of millions of lives and we don’t want to come to grips with that. We want our dreams and can’t unsee it or abandon it.

I’m no revolutionary. But I can’t deny that it’s coming because hope never folds. Not under any circumstances.

“When dictatorship is a fact, revolution becomes a right.” – Victor Hugo

(Still vote though!)

– Carefree Maroon

Have You Ever Got Thru A Storm & Went APESHIT?

I’m not even gunna bullshit y’all. I’ve been dealing with depression for the past two months and I’ve recently been coming out of it. 

I had an epiphany this past week during my visit back home to New York.  I always knew that although I’m eloquent and can hold interesting conversations, I can’t seem to express my emotions. Especially not in my time of need or darkest hour. Instead I just disappear. I put on a face, I post funny shit online and that’s that. Everything is fine.

But I’ve had to face a series of uncomfortable truths about myself in these past weeks. I had to battle the pressure of my need to be perfect. Like it’s literally the definition of my name. Natsai means “towards perfection” I shit you not.

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Who Needs Kanye West When We Have Donald Glover?

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Let me just set the tone of this piece with a smooth Kanye can go fuck himself. We have a real genius in the building, totes forgot what that even looked like. Thanks for the refresher Donald! Confidence is being comfortable in your skin and speaking truth to power not just being an arrogant asshole oh yeeeeah…

So this past week I’ve witnessed the final descent of an artist who once inspired me to tell stories. There I was, thirteen years old sitting in the back of my brother’s car minding my business when I heard beats. My neck reacted with that bop & swerve combo blackfolk do when the beat is too clean. I was like, “who is thisssss?” as I swallowed my annoyance at my brother because he kept switching through tracks.

But what sold me were the skits. I went from hearing amazing songs with funny lyrics to a hilarious skit of “Broke Phi Broke” frat brothers stepping in pride. And the cycle just continued. A bop, a laugh – repeat. I couldn’t wait for my brother to pick me up again, so I went out and bought my first album: The College Dropout.

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For All My Dreamers It’s Time We See the American Dream For its Alarming Fraudulence

Do you feel that?

That old familiar pain re-emerging from the crevices of your DNA?

It was once so easy to believe what others told me to be true about America growing up. That this was a space of opportunity. I was the outcome of a dream believed by someone who was allowed the opportunity to prosper. I was borne into a dream many believed she was probably crazy to believe in.  The naive little girl from Trenchtown just wanted to be a doctor. She believed in a vision of herself that had nothing to do with me at all. I just happened upon the life my mother manifested when she was a mere child.

I came from a family that migrated to this land and did well in the face of adversity. With that as my daily reminder, I believed the myth that America was fair enough. I believed it was up to the individual to decide to do and be better. Cuz if we don’t, we’d perish and fade away into the pages of time written by those who would suggest we loved our own suffering. I knew that if I could believe, then I could achieve. I sang the songs they told me to sing believing the status quo felt the same:

This land is your land, this land is my land
From the California to the New York island
From the Redwood Forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me

And the like.

Continue reading “For All My Dreamers It’s Time We See the American Dream For its Alarming Fraudulence”