Walking in the Rain, Exodus.

Sitting still. Stillness. How do you sit still in a world that constantly moves? I will always remember what my mother told me when Dad passed away. “The hardest thing is that the world just continues and moves on as if he wasn’t here to begin with. I know what I felt. I know what i seen. We had a life together.” 

When it comes to these different experiences i’m forced to really confront and digest in stillness. About two weeks ago, Silhouettes Of Scarlet production team agreed to postpone our December show for the sake of our team and community’s emotional and mental stability. Since then so many things been popping up for me. For starters, some of the people I was surrounding myself with that I had the nerve to call friends were they racist or ignorant? I remember vividly, some making fun of high school students from my neighborhood because they talk in a certain dialect, wear long fingernails, may have a first name thats not part of American culture etc. it made me feel super uncomfortable but I trusted (for whatever reason) that I was safe because these people know my background being black, queer, growing up in these neighborhoods, getting into gang fights and what not. A lot of violence that goes down in our neighborhoods is not a thing of us going out and looking for shit, its survival. A lot of time white people steal culture so we come up with new ways to stay true to ourselves via language, style, music and so much more. Sad thing is these criticisms aren’t from white people but from people of color that would know and understand culture.

Revisit places with an empty slate. Seems strange, but im in the middle of a club/bar right now writing this. My brother Miko, is DJing at Paper Tiger. I haven’t been here in a year or so. This the place I actually was drinking at shortly after my Dad passed away. Prior to that, community parties were here. Homies were DJing and got it going. Crazy to see how much changed. Before coming here tonight, we was at a Sunday Jump fundraising event for a community member that was abducted by ICE. In that room, I feel the heaviness. Actively. Present moment. Grief. I was talking to the homie Kirby, how do you learn sit still in those moments. 

Yaakub, the young man who was abducted documented his time during the detention center. The horrors couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Everything noted down to the date and time of transportation (by flight), landing in the detention center, the people he met, the people he encountered and the stories he heard from others there. A huge part of me felt so uncomfortable. It’s like what Miko said tonight, it’s happening so close to home. Its here. Battles lost, but we are engaging in war currently. Just like what my mom experiencing, the mourning, the world continues to turn as if none of this craziness is happening, at home. 

The stillness. Sitting in the uncomfort. 

I did something recently I don’t usually do when it comes to people i’m interested in getting to know or connecting on a romantic level: flat-out shot my shot in front of their best friend and a friend of mine. Supreme out of the ordinary for me. I guess something just possessed me that day. We talked on the phone a few days later and she wanted to go to an arcade to build connection on a friendship level. Something within myself froze. I got instantly scared. Come to find out when life knocked me on my ass for working too hard (i gotten sick and was unable to move for a full 24 hours) I believed I lost a whole side of myself. The arcade is where as a kid i roamed free. I absolutely loved video games. Thats how me and my Dad connected. 3-4 years old playing Batman on super nintendo. Mortal Kombat. Getting older playing the boxing game and watching prince of bel-air after defying my mother’s demands to go to bed. In middle and high school, Dad taking me and my siblings to the Malibu castle arcade. After literally ending his 4am-3pm shift at work with racists white people that would call him a nigger and spit on him. 

Tapping back into that side of myself with someone else feels foreign. I played one game here and there with three friends once a year but thats it. Its only when i travel out of town to Monterey. Out of my element. I don’t know what inner child looks like or feels like. Revealing that to someone else in this state makes me incredibly anxious and even if just at the beginning stages of something potential. Is being in the moment of an experience considered being still? I only know that when I don’t have to think is when i’m more in-tuned with my inner child. The tricky part about it all is that I’m a thinker. I think way too much. 

All things happen for a reason, maybe to feel this script more for Silhouettes I have more living to do. This version of the coming show is meant for me to fully accept what occurred. In all honesty, I haven’t yet. I’m still angry. I bare resentment. I want revenge. I been afraid to share that out loud because the dangers of being a black man feeling these emotions can be fatal. Some may look at me and what i’m saying believe that I’m over-exaggerating. I’m not. Hell, people I called best friends had the sheer audacity to insult me and wants to be entitled to my emotions by me taking care of myself and walking away. Saying “its unfair after everything we been through.” In other words, “how dare you walk away from me? I demand you be next to me.” No matter what the history is, history itself is not an anchor. I had friends present for my Dad’s funeral and we are no longer cool. I don’t fuck with them people. My tiredness and depletion stems from constantly giving and making sure others are cool. I do feel a way a lot of times in 90 percent of my friendships its hard to get a “hi”, “hello”, “you okay?” I know this all comes with being an adult. Different journeys that must be respected. Different capacities, but I do wonder what kind of person people see me as? 

Expression is a dangerous often a fatal game for black people. 

I know on a broad scale im seen as a artist, that one guy you see everywhere and is busy. I never really show the “fuck with me and your teeth will be on the floor side.” What I’m trying to get at I don’t know if people see me as a pushover. There’s a guy in here that asked me where i’m from. In LA when being asked that could mean trouble. When I told him he was like I can tell you your own dude. Where we come from people would look at how you dress and how you talk as like “nigga you a weirdo”, but I can tell you have that side to you of like “i’ll fuck up a nigga if they cross me.” Code-switching. 

Wild concept when applied in situations. It’ll get you in doors. Shut some. Get you hurt. Get you in bed with someone. Get you killed. Limitless possibilities on how your reactions/ responses can play a role in an event. The question that comes about is: “who are you putting on a show for?” A friend called me out last night and said you always surround yourself with chaos. You day you don’t want it but you step in it knowing things can go left. When the quiet comes why I feel the need to sabotage it? I’m becoming more aware of my self-sabotaging ways and it’s unsettling. 

Today, I ran into a old friend I haven’t seen in a year or so. He told me he has a kid on the way. Then he told me about he’s in an abusive relationship. This partner has physical beat him and gotten him thrown in jail. Haven’t taken accountability for anything. Black man, younger than me. He was talking about running away. Shortly after getting out of jail he was in a coma for a week or so. The stress of keeping all that bottled up. Who you going share with being in a society that already has a dismissive system in place? Where do you go? I tried to give him words of encouragement, share a bit about my situation. Unfiltered. Raw. When I shared my story, he broke down and gave me the biggest hug. He became more concerned about me. Thing i shared with him is, against all odds, you have to remind you. You will always shine through anything that gets thrown your way. No one can strip away your name. Your traits. Your character.  They’ll certainly try to rewire, but they dont have the power. 

As black men, yet again fighting for freedom in a different way: freedom of expression. Our mind. Why do we die at a young age? Stress. Unhealthy eating habits. Not talking. What causes these things? Being around the wrong environments. People that don’t nurture healthy living.

Getting into fights over my anatomy with community members is useless. At the end of the day I’m doing what mind, body, spirit and God is telling me whats right, and avoiding whats wrong. It’s simple as that. With these choices I am solely responsible for me. 

I want to have more quiet days where its not an immediate panic or survival mode. I talk to God often about softness. To be granted that opportunity to feel that, to understand it wholeheartedly. I hate that at times my mind wants to run from it or worse sabotage it. Its a defense mechanism yes, however, goodness gracious definitely frustrating. Since a kid I knew I have such a big heart and yearn to give love openly. To be choosey with how thats being distributed shakes me, because again I understand the need to defend myself. Kinda goes back to this reiki session I had last November where my practitioner expressed “You are a believer in love, but have no problem at all with War. You dont want war, but if someone starts it, you’ll end it.”

That ruthless teenage Chris scares me. I guess at times my inner child becomes unrecognizable because I have to talk to my teenage self first. Like “hey buddy, i know you were an atheist and publicly denounced God, but did you know God literally saved your life at least 3 times as an adult?” He didn’t have anyone to talk to like that. Just like my friend I ran into, held the eagerness to run away. How you sit still with death in your face? Grief in your face? And on the other-side of that you know there’s joy. Happiness. The night becomes morning without doubt. 

The easiest thing is always to distance yourself. Distancing yourself from Grief is just straight up ignoring and disrespecting yourself.