Tonight I'll cry

I found myself on the floor crying the other night, ever since then the waterworks just won't stop. I know the reason behind it and that's made it harder to turn this tap action I got going on off. I've been getting days off recently, and that's played a huge part in this mess I've become. Turns out when you're busy working all you think about is work and the things you're working towards achieving or trying to financially cover, so when the moment arrives in which you finally have some free time on your hands your brain switches to reflective mode. And as my eyes have gladly shown I've been thinking about far too much. I sat on my doorsteps last night at 3am and I noticed something I haven't in a long while. I always thought fondly of darkness, like I belonged to him and  my melanin just made it easier to roll unseen in his presence. As a kid, I constantly gazed out into the dark and as I grew older I would walk the darkest of streets with my headphones blaring tunes on the highest volume. I always felt like I knew who I was when surrounded by it and I'll forever be comfortable in the solitude and serenity it brung - ALWAYS. There's was something indescribable about the feeling of having my earphones blocking all the noises out, the streets seemed boundless and filled with possibilities... But over the last couple of years I've realized nights feel a little brighter each time I see them and my music seem to get a little lower no matter how high I turn her volume up and these streets they seem so small, action-packed and filled with directions, no guesswork anymore... Ironically, I feel so lost.

I keep remembering a poem I wrote awhile back for this blog called 'Solitude's companion', that boy was something else. I admired him: his courage, drive; and cluelessness; and independence; and lack of care, spoke volumes. He was absolutely clueless but extremely smart and care free. Where did he go? How did he become this guy? There's a song I find myself listening to a lot over the years especially as I write, I'm actually listening to it as I type this right now (Angel Haze - Dark places), in it she said she's "trying live her days without too many nights" - I always thought that sentence was so powerful. Sadly I'm the opposite. I'm that kid that use to find the darkest corner of a dark room, turn the music up and find joy in the darkest quarters of my mind, sadly it was where I felt my most comfortable. I can't seem to find that place anymore. That's probably a good thing right? I think god answered my mom's prayers haha. I try not to crave that feeling nor my desire to return to that 'safe place' because I fear what the universe might have to make unfold just to get me back there. I feel now. I truly feel! Believe it or not that's strange for me. I stopped caring about life a very long time ago but over the course of the past 7 years life has opened more doors than I ever intended and I finally realize not only how blessed I am but how much I have to lose. I don't want to lose!

I think I've beaten myself up enough for my past digressions. I'm learning to stop the angelic battle taking place between the presences on my right shoulder and the ones on my left. I grew up being taught to do whatever the fuck I got to in order to get what I want and I can't apologize for that, I'm not even sure I want to change my mindset. In my defence I've taught myself to play as nice as I possibly can while trying to secure the things I seek so hopefully that counts for something. You want to know the saddest thing about this person? [That was rhetorical by the way]. I haven't felt like Akil in a very long time. For the longest time I've felt like an actor that's been given the story of a good guy that's going to achieve greatness but somewhere along the line I started improvising to beef his story up and my actual character started to overlapping with his and suddenly I've blurred his truth. And here we are. It's like a bad actor, writer and director tag teamed his script and set out to tell more than the truth but somewhere along the line everything became as fucked up as their skills and expertise. But you as the audience will never truly know the truth right, just the story that's told. I don't even think I remember the original script, I guess I'm just hoping the kid still accomplishes greatness because I royally fucked his story up.

Anyway, tonight I'll cry, tomorrow I'll get up and pretend these tears aren't still flowing. And then tomorrow night I guess we'll see if this tap wants to give a brother a break. I've done this routine enough time, this should be a piece of cake. You wanna know what's truly sad... Four paragraph later and I still haven't grazed the gist of why these eyeballs are so expressive... They don't call me Mr Secretive for nothing. I guess it's the Virgo in me. Until next time kids, all the best.