BeMoBrown.

30th May 2012

Unknown Number Vol. 1

*The following (post special note) is an attempt at storytelling. The story is about me at 12 years old. I feel it to be important for how many times do YOU get to see life through the eyes of a 12 year old black boy? “The Autobigoraphy of an Ex-Colored Man,” “Black Boy,” “White Boy Shuffle,” and the film “The Inkwell.” Those are a few of the prominent ones but maybe you will like this the same. The plan is to post a little bit of the story weekly.

* dictates Special Note (Why do publishers put a legend of special notation at the bottom of the page? That is stupid. Why wait until you finished reading the whole page to know what the notation meant? Or, is the publisher dictating their dominance? Are we supposed to stop reading what the author wrote, skip the content, and read the publisher’s note? That’s fucked up.)

Start

Back in the day (a Wednesday), when a relationship was innocent and simple but still the pentacle of life, I met a girl. Cliché, but I did. As I, she was 12.

Enchantments of A Summers Day Vol. 1/Intro

Introduction: A dear friend of mine and I have commenced in a one way, weekly pen-pal relationship while she struggles with cooperate life. In the next 7 weeks, I have promised to deliver at least 1 haiku every Tuesday. I hope she gain a many of laugh and cheesy moment whilst reading but selfishly, I just needed an excuse to write again. And there’s nothing like commitment than promises made to a sexy female. Its real because I put reminders in my iPhone. Enjoy.

Morning Wood

Woke up bright and shine
To find stiff meat poking thru
Pink toned skinny jeans.

I hate Tuesday’s.

Lacking of stigma
Stuck between obscure and ass
Pointless in purpose.

Man problems.

Spoon with a cute girl
Bubbles rise from gassy mist
Sleep hurts. Pain don’t ease

Titty Tuesday.

Niggas sho nuf love
Small bumps mounding from dark rings
But who doesn’t. Boobs

3rd Apr 2012

Yo. Fuck Rules!! (Taken with instagram)

1st Apr 2012 | 2 notes

This maybe my favorite photo of myself. (Taken with instagram)

26th Mar 2012 | 4 notes

Growin up a lil bit. (Taken with instagram)

27th Feb 2012 | 228,833 notes

(Source: val-dez, via maeganxsamie)

17th Feb 2012

I’m a writer. I trust fiction to tell truths. I believe in magic.

The kid has a point. Our generation is so focused on becoming things that are already possible. What happened to the free thinkers? What happened to the people who literally reached for the stars just to feel the burn of the improbable on their finger tips?

His message is very valid. You have practiced something that was once impossible. And damn it, you made it possible. Look at this kid. Hair uncut. Clothes too big. Message unpretty. But at least he had the gumption to try for something you may think is ridiculous without fear of humiliation. As cliche and run down as it may seem, too many times we give up for fear of completion and success or worse, we settle for what has already been accomplished.

Too afraid to talk to that girl cause she might talk back.

Too afraid to complete that app because you might get in.

Too nervous to chase that dream because you might catch it.

So what he wants to be a Super Saiyan? You wanted to be something that is fictional. As a matter of fact, your current aspirations are based in fiction. You wanna be the perfect student, teacher, businessman, artist, whatever. But you fail to realize that perfection is as fiction as flying blond Japanese men defeating the universe’s greatest threats.

I trust in fiction to tell truths. The “impossible” is always limited by those who only believe in the attainable. So scream on kid! I live vicariously through you, for I wish I had never quieted my screams for sake of reaching that which is in my grasp.

10th Feb 2012 | 4 notes

alesynwonderland:

summerscusp:

good stuff. #blackhistorymonth

LOVED IT

Black History through the lens of Black fatherhood with the theme and soundtrack of Black excellence, now that is a celebration of Black History Month.