Happy 4/20, Earth!
I know I'm not exactly the go-to guy for positivity (as of recent years), but I'm growing.
I don't have a lot to say today (I'm kinda high), but I will say this.
SEGA is forever.
I miss you, J Dilla.
I love you, George Massa.
Get well, Jack Splash.
May the funk be with you, Daft Punk.
Love to all those not mentioned.
It seems like I get a reprise from DOOM on holidays.
Today is more of a high-liday.
More music coming soon.
And again, you could be on the verge of receiving my last free album.
I'll still record, but I ... feel weird about the current state of music.
And my role in it.
I think we're clear on who I am in this shit.
For those who aren't, don't worry.
You don't have to know.
Just don't harass me when you find out.
More than likely you won't.
I want to enhance my vocabulary.
Or, I'll just read what I want to read.
And share the knowledge of what I learned through music.
And that's what it is!
^ ^ ^ This song is dedicated to all rape victims.
There is no blaming yourself.
And there is no revenge.
There is a deep wound within you, but you can heal.
Don't search for love.
You'll end up spending money.
Don't search for closure.
It'll attract the wrong people.
On November 30th, 2009, I went to visit Sha-leik at his house.
I was just with Simone Porter earlier that day.
I showered, got fresh, and went to go see Sha to get high.
My uncle Jeff wasn't allowing me to smoke.
I get there, we smoke, start chopping samples, and he subconsciously tells me he's J Dilla.
I doubted him.
So I 6-shot him.
George and THE REAL J DILLA understand.
Then, I up'd him.
George and THE REAL J DILLA (and maybe Jack Splash) understand.
A few minutes later, he says "If you sleep here, I swear I'm gonna rape you."
It triggered me.
I felt fear for the first time in a long time.
It's bad enough I'm almost certain Drake raped me.
But this was a friend of mine.
He would know how deep of a gash that would leave.
So I brushed it off.
I verbally asked him if he was seriuos, and he didn't say a word.
So I ~telepathically~ dared him to do it.
I laid down on the floor with my laptop open, and went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning, after visions of ALL OF 8th AVENUE (Harlem) gang raping and belittling me.
I woke up before Sha did.
I took a shit.
Nothing seemed out of place.
When I left, his sister (who locked the door as I exited) screamed "ALL DAY!"
There's a chance Lionell Sha-leik Martin MIGHT be J Dilla.
Or a victim of Beats By Dr. Dre.
So I bring this blog entry to the top and say...
Dear Sasheer (Zamata),
You are the face of a Black poindexter's dream. I have visions of us being together in this lifetime, just as younger souls. I want to love you. I lust after you. I want you to walk all over me. And I want you to believe in SEGA. You have a crush.
It seems like the world ended when Brock Lesnar defeated The Undertaker.
The Undertaker is truly the grim reaper.
Brock Lesnar, though he could probably whip my ass, is a raging homosexual.
Once you perform a homosexual act, you are "disqualified" from life.
Your actions are no longer your own.
So, Brock got assistance from The Gods and Women.
He cheated death, by being an abomination to life.
I tried to cheat death homosexually.
It basically dragged me back to life and made me more susceptible to pain.
As I've said before several times on this blog, I still speak to the gay men I've dealt with.
I mean, shit, it's just been 2 guys.
Maybe a few trannies (lol).
But ...each encounter was with a 6.
I love 6.
Let me know if you want the lyrics to "Under".
A lot of multiple entendres.
And love/lust towards the 6z, the gods and goddesses, and of course, women.