Think Fast.... Think FASTER...

The book lay before me, wide open and receptive to my eyes. I was eager to learn (for once) because the subject was something I was interested in. But as I began to delve into the typefont---and I do mean typefont, as I never actually read the words and sentences--- I lost interest.

I was fully aware of all this happening as it occurred, and the more I thought about it, the more afraid I became. "Am I AADD?" (That's "Adult Attention Deficit Disorder" in case you didn't know) I guess I do show some tendencies of that, but... hm...

You see, on one hand my attention span appears to be shorter than in the past... Okay, put it like this: my attention span is short when I'm doing something that I feel is a waste of time. If a person needs me to listen to their problems and assist them in deriving a solution, then I can listen forever, and I'll still be totally focused on their well-being after they're long gone. That doesn't strike me as characteristic of AADD. But I admit, recently even my attention to others has dissipated a bit; whereas I used to feel sorry for everybody I'm now very quick to determine if a person is defeating himself or herself, and if it's habitual then I lose interest. Still... wouldn't that be considered a good thing? It's wisdom when one can recognize when it's time to let someone go, right?

Anyway, as I sat in the bookstore andjuggled the idea of me being an AADD case, I asked myself what I mostly find myself doing on a regular basis. Hmmm... "Writing long, cohesive blogs; playing complicated video games and making it look easy; writing, producing, performing, mixing, mastering my own music; studying martial arts trying to understand the metaphysics of the human body; walking through an empty house giving speeches about my take on things." But what's wrong with doing all that? (and yes, I talk to myself sometimes; and no, I'm not crazy. I voice my opinions sometimes to see if they sound right to meB-J)

When I was younger, I was SOOO much calmer. I used to meditate and center myself with ease. I've been trying to meditate for a few weeks now, and I've fallen asleep every time except once, and that's when I had some music playing. My mind is a constantly moving piece of biotechnology starving for activity. But what's the line between that and AADD?

Okay, okay; I have a million songs, a million beats, a million ideas that I've conjured, few of which I've actually completed. I know, that sounds AADDish, but here's the thing: I never forget about a single one of them. I chip away at each project day-by-day fully intent on finishing each of them in the fullness of time. Is it AADD if these things never actually leave my attention?

But then I started thinking agai... okay, let's face it: I NEVER stop thinking. Anyway, my mind wandered and I thought to myself, "I'm trying so hard to slow myself down and focus; but my mind only wants to absorb things as quickly as possible in order to put it to purposeful use. Something's funny about that..." Yes, being tranquil and meditative and focused has its place. However, it seems to me that I'm actually more "focused" than I'm allowing myself to believe.

Let's try something: let's throw the term AADD out completely and analyze...

My mind seems to want to go faster and faster, but I struggle against it because I'm not used to not being able to quiet my mind. But... I mean, look at what I just said that I do on a regular basis; it's a heap of things a lot of people WISH they could do. So, why should I slow down?

And most of the things I do, I do them with purpose. Just because I'm not moving slow doesn't necessarily mean I'm not focused; perhaps it just means my focus is extensive enough that it doesn't need to be slowly attained. Isn't that a gift?

I think back to my grade school experience. One of my gifts was that I saw all my subjects as relative to one another; it was all continuous and gaining knowledge in one subject automatically strengthened my understanding of another. So now that I'm an adult, why should I expect to be able to sit down and ingest large helpings of one subject at a time? I need a spectrum of subjects to allow me to think at full capacity.

Simply look at what I'm trying to accomplish musically and you can see it: I write, produce, perform, mix, and master my own music! Do you know how many processes that encompasses?! I have to engage my writing skills for lyrics, listening skills for production and mastering, mathematics for mixing, and speaking skills for performance. How would slowing down and singling out my thinking processes help me maintain that?

Then I did even more thinking. Perhaps I'm going about all this in the wrong way; perhaps the answer is not to slow down, but to accept full speed. Perhaps the reason I'm so tired and frustrated is because I keep fighting to slow myself down when my mind is capable of so much more. It's like doing the speed limit on an autobahn in Germany; kinda defeats the purpose.

And perhaps that's why it's so difficult to achieve my purpose; because I'm not allowing my mind to fully blossom. The solution: think faster. After all, nobody's gonna pull me over, right? Nobody but myself.(<----I think I wanna get that tattooed: "Nobody But Myself". Matter of fact...)

Nobody But Myself B-J

Cigar Smoke: A Perfect Illustration

I found myself in an interesting state of mind the other day. I was angry over some miscommunications, but in my ramblings I came across an illustration that really captured the essence of that anger. Now, I don't smoke, but peep this.

I was listening to Cee-Lo Green's "Evening News", a song about dark deeds done on dark nights. The feel of the music reminded me of something somewhere between the Godfather, Dolemite, Carlito's Way, and Shaft.In my mind, I picture a man in a big leather chair behind a desk...

The chair is turned back as he faces away from the desk, seated in a "good posture is what I say it is" type way. His fedora has long been on his hat rack, and the sizable windows behind his chair are all but visible through the slightly cracked drapes.

As the character turns around slowly, the light pans gently across the top of his desk. It's just enough to steal a dull gleam off the beretta that sits on his tabletop. He leans back in his chair as he turned to face whatever lies before him; in one hand is an embossed metal lighter; it's spark is hidden by his other hand as he brings the lighter to the cigar clenched in his teeth. As the flame attacks the end of the cigar, our host steals quick puff and lets a few dark clouds escape the sides of his mouth, slightly ajar.

As he settles, the chair comes full circle and he seeks his ash tray opposite his beretta. Meanwhile the cigar glows a glaring red as the man inhales, utterly oblivious to it. A strong puff and the head of the cigar is reduced to an illusive, crumbling gray matter. A nonchalant tap against the cigar's body and the head falls effortlessly into the ash tray.

The only thing that holds the smoker's attention is a newspaper article he has drawn from his desk drawer. He reads it slowly and dangles the slowly disintegrating cigar effortlessly in the air, as if he intends for it to burn itself out. However, as he reads further, a furrow begins to appear in the midst of his forehead, then three more. As his teeth clench tightly, the muscles of his jaw flex with quiet but volatile tension.

The cigar quickly returns to it's position between the man's teeth. No longer a leisure, the cigar has become the man's method of maintaining his composure. He puffs furiously as the cigar begins to vaporize in a haze of fierce red and gray smoke. In the clenches of his teeth, the cigar flips up and down as if begging for a merciful douse to quench the flame.

In an instant, the cigar has run its course; it happened so quickly that the frail ash managed to collect in a sizable amount at butt's end. The smoke is so thick that it's visible all over the officeroom. The man slowly removes the remaining portion from his mouth and dips it into his ash tray, twisting the remaining spark out in a few smooth motions. He is calm now, and he folds his paper up and tucks it under his arm, preparing to leave.

He stands and makes his way to the door. But before he leaves, he grabs the breast of his expensive suit. He takes a sniff and grimaces. "'Gonna hafta get this dry cleaned."

...And just like that, the cigar made his presence known. I am the cigar that was lit and dissolved; I am the ash that fell apart and was tossed aside; I am the smoke that remained and became unbearable.

A Perfect Illustration B-J

The Unforgettable Night

Somewhat of a A mysterious piece to be sure.

It was a clear night, so clear that there was a certain shade of green even in the darkness. The waters on the port side of the city were still, hypnotizing to the eyes with it's uniform, flowing ripples; the waters reflected the impression of shimmering granite and invited any who gazed upon it to step onto it for a dance.

The serenity above and below became the borders to the wonder and attraction between. Beneath the sky, aback from the waters, the buildings dazzle upward. Window panes of white and azure reflection; accentual, pulsing lights of red; green hazes along the waterside.

The aromas of streetside restaurants to whet the appetite; Italian is the easy choice for such a night. A scrumptious helping of something traditional, but with a side of something exotic for some spontaneity. As we dine, people abuzz with excitement give a pulse to the evening, and surrounding it all like an energy of emotion, the music of Norman Brown: "Let's Come Together" and "Paradise". Yes, that seems to be the formula to make it all work: coming together to achieve paradise. And who is my company for such an evening? Well... she's a 5'10 ex-model of Black and Dominican descent; brown eyes, curly brown hair to shoulder-length; soft, curvacious figure. No lie.

The attire for the evening: classy, with something special hidden on the person of the young lady to spice things up. Dinner and dancing; a quiet walk along the waterside. Maybe a little cuddling to make it all come together.

Did this actually happen... to me? lol, Wouldn't you like to know. All I can say is, it's hard for me to give you a definite yes or no; and that's what makes the whole thing so wonderful.

B-J

Now Boarding... AGAIN!

Welcome back to Romancexpress! We have another shuttle departing any time now, so get on board and get comfortable. Where we'll end up, who knows. But if you enjoyed the last ride, then take another chance with me why don't cha?

For those of you just joining us I'm your guide, Jigabod. The thing about Romancexpress is, no matter where it goes, it's always on track. So relax for me; we'll be somewhere in no time, lol.

...My stars, I think it's that time people. Make sure your baggage is secured; we've got a journey ahead unlike any other. Romancexpress is leaving the station... AGAIN!

Jesus PeaceB-J