Chivalry is DEAD

It doesnt take much to inspire me to start something...
It take something special to inspire me to finish it. Though i'm finding that inspiration isnt subject to being associated with positive things. Dont worry... that should make sense after I tell u my story. I'm sorry.... Hi how's ur day been so far? Good?.... good. Where r my manners. Anywho, back to what i was saying. Last weekend I went with Nike, her boyfriend and her boyfriends crew to the 40 40 club.

I was wearing a peasant skirt, tank top flats and had a blown out afro ponytail. Berry Berry Bohemian. I did this on purpose hoping that my attire would have some effect on everyones psyche and prompt them to go to a lounge... I lost out. So we walk in the club and i figure, i look like a portuguese tourist, I shouldnt get harassed too much tonight. Plus sometimes girls just wanna enjoy music and do the solo step. To no avail...

15 minutes in the club, a sweaty unidentifiable man grabs my hips and attempts to dance with me, from behind me while whispering 'u smell sweet' in my ear. After unlatching his hands and gagging a little bit, I leaned on the wall so as to prevent anymore sneak attacks from behind me. Soon the began to play ''my boo' by ghost town djs... one of the nostalgia joints. So i close my eyes and do my solo step... content as i could be, until i felt my wrist being grabbed and by a man who looked like a mix between eric bennet and tpain. Needless to say this went on the rest of the evening. There used to be a time where I didnt question it, but i guess i've grown up. I can't remember the last time someone asked me to dance at a club. I guess men just let proximity be their guide...like "if i get close enough and she touch her...shell know wassup".

Nxt day I get on the bus to go to harlem to do my weekly support harlem store tour ( my own personal ventures around harlem to see what businesses are going up and coming down) It was packed. There were 3 elderly women and 2 pregnant ladies standing while the entire front half of the bus was filled with seated young black men. It really made no sense to me. I dunno, am I being unreasonable? What do u think... I just feel like women, especially black women have been reduced to pawns that move like queens. They can traverse the board more than one space at a time but are sooo vulnerable to knights and bishops... Digest, I think in pictures.

But wait... its not over. So im at a good friends housewarming party with one of my best friends that same weekend. We leave around 1AM only to find a 14-15 year old girl getting the shi* beat out of her by her clearly older boyfriend. But get this...the cops were on the nxt corner. They look over, saw the ordeal and proceeded down the stairs to the train station.

I mean I could go on but u feel me. Finding a gentlemen that holds open doors, walks on the edge of the sidewalk, pulls out ur chair and gives up his... well thats like finding a woman who wasnt the least bit concerned about her weight. Degredation has been institutionalized so much so that most ladies dont even realize they are being degraded. I mean uve all heard this b4 but... my wknd was just packed with shi* that i had to write it down.

I was inspired though, to write a song called Chivalry is Dead. Its not on that india arie, teach u a lesson while soothing ur soul type tip, it a club joint. I figure if it blows up, I can see how cognescent ppl really are of the music they listen to. How do u feel about it?

My second cousin.

One thing i've learned about most of my colleagues here at the job is that they've let 'Passion' their second cousin meander off into the sunset. They let their siblings 'status' and 'quo' lay EACH AND EV-E-RY single brick on their yellow brick road. Dont get me wrong... immediate fam, technically, should be your guide but dont you find that they restrict your growth in the effort of protecting you sometimes? Man my radical second cousin, passion, hes that dude. He's got earrings, tattoos, a man purse (lol) and the greatest part is hes happy. I talk to some of my colleagues & supervisors and with every conversation i see a faint brush of 'Passions' spray paint imprint on the road. Its been scrubbed down, bleached and lysoled... but u know graffitti... u can only really get rid of it if u paint over it ya know?

So my colleagues and supervisors... they tell me about all the opportunities here, basically handing me the yellow paint to go ahead and paint my bricks, which btw is as multicolored as Josephs coat . One thing i notice is that with every conversation theres one radical similarity...'I wish'. They've all used that pronoun and verb in THAT order in every one on one meeting i've had. But its followed by "inevitably this was were I ended up, and i like it now" or some variation of it. I feel like everyone in my department ENDED UP here, excommunicated their 2nd cousin and only think about him when they r influencing someone who has the chance to still kick it with their own cuzo.

My yellow brick road will never be yellow. I'm like tyrell in vegas, I told 'Passion', to hold the key to my soul , so I wouldnt gamble it away. Unlike Justin and Adam, Passion doesnt give me back my earnings cuz I beg 4 it... he knows better.. i might gamble it away and start painting my road with the brush my colleagues used.

I just confirmed the factory for Afrik's clothing in SHANGHAI! Found the spot im gonna put a down payment on in January. Recording a demo (and hanging out with ?uestlove 1 thursday a month- word... no joke), and go to local shows, perform poetry and hit up lounges on wkdays... got approved to be a mentor AND volunteer at the Harlem childrens zone. Paving my gaudy a$$ road every single day and loving it.

Consult Passion once a week... please ... thanks