Im a sucker for nostalgia...
I cant help it. Anything pleasurable from my youth seems to have stuck with me all these years. Its like that movie, Vanilla Sky. His Lucid Dream consisted of an array of powerful impressions from his life- A sad movie; a romantic album cover; an emotional painting. My living dream act the same way, connecting all things enjoyable subconsciously to my youthful memories. Hmm, makes the pressures of this non-existent, potential fatherhood I face increase exponentially. But in the meantime, and in between time I search for myself the same way we all do: by returning to the source- attempting to recapture a youth lost so long ago. And if we succeed? I guess Ill let you know when I arrive...

Questions...
Why do we still have cops on horses? Do criminals still ride horses, robbing stage coaches and such? Why did it take three days to get water to the Superdome? Why did the people roll over in the 04 presidential election? Why does the Kool-Aid Man bust through walls? Why is Mario allowed to take shrooms, go on a killing spree, then be lauded as a hero? Why is it so hot outside? Why do you need ID to get ID? If you had ID you wouldnt need ID. Why didnt the president know what the Voting Rights Act was? Why is it ok to impeach Clinton for lying about head, but not ok to impeach Bush over lying about Iraq? Why are gas prices so damn high? Why cant someone make a healthy cigarette? Why is sex only right when your married, when everybody knows married couples usually have crappy sex lives? Why is marijuana illegal, but cigarettes and liquor arent? Why arent more people upset about the Real ID Act? What was Jesus' real name, and why do people call him Jesus? What makes blue eyes better than brown eyes? Why are modern cars made of plastic, but cost more than their metal predecessors? Who reads this anyway? Why do people run so many red lights? Why is insurance mandatory, but so expensive and non tax deductable? Is that how you spell "deductible"? Why has so much crazy stuff been happening to me lately? Why do I waste my time and words here? Will black people ever receive reparations for slavery? Am I going to work out today? Am I going to hell? Why dont more Americans kiss when they greet? How much truth is behind all those 9/11 conspiracies? Why didnt the police ever find Tupac or Biggies killers? Were the killers trained professionals, or did they just not look too hard? Why do so many people still act like racism is no big deal? Will I ever marry? What do you wanna be when you grow up? How high would the basketball goals be on the moon, since everyone could dunk?

There is a song...
Stuck in my head. It goes...
I get down for my grandfather who took my mama/ made her sit in that seat when white folks didnt want us to eat./ At the tender age of six she was arrested for the sit in/ and with that in my blood I was born to be different./ Now, niggas cant make it to balance to choose leadership/ but we can make it to Jacobs and to the dealership./ Thats why I hear new music and I just dont be feeling it./ Racism still alive, they just be concealing it. / But I know, you dont want me in the damn club./ They even made me show ID to get inside of Sams Club./ I done did dirt then went to church to have my hands scrubbed:/ Swear Ive been baptized at least three or four times. / But in the land where niggas pray, shoot guns, and get paid,/ its gonna take a lot more than coupons to get us saved. / Like it take a lot more than do rags to get ya waves./ Now as sad as that day, my girl father passed away/ so I promised him Mr. Ramey, Im gonna marry ya daughter/and you know I gotta thank you for the way that she was brought up./ And I know I felt you smiling when you seen the car I bought her./ Then you sent tears from heaven when you seen my car get balled up, but/ I cant complain bout what an accident did to my left eye,/ cuz look what an accident did to Left Eye./ First Aaliyah, now Romeo must die?/ I know I got angels watching me from the other side...

Zimbabwe Funerals...

He lived his days of poverty
Inside a cardboard shelter
Inadequate of cover he
Did either freeze or swelter
Remembered he when he was ten
He had a scrap yard shack
It wasn't much, enough, but then
He suffered an attack
Policemen came and routed him
Destroyed his meager home
His chance at life now very slim
Just rubbish dumps to comb
Death did fight with him and win
As he knew that it would
No one can pay to place him in
A coffin made of wood

-Chris Higginson