when the quiet comes.

Less rumination, more experiences.

The entire winter i kept to myself. Bit difficult to go outside. Definitely paralyzing doing mental gymnastics on whether or not cut loose more people I love dearly. Deciding whether or not I could really trust certain people around me, and my being. 

an idle mind is a dangerous game. Can’t tell you the amount of times I actively picked apart every relationship, every connection, every decision I made. I wish to write something more joyous. Something more hopeful. The energy that looms this current era of our lives screams for that. Hope. Faith. How much a life costs? I mean is it all that bad to sell yourself to gain a piece of happiness? Back in December, my moms asked me, “Chris, you know, I don’t think I ever asked you, who’s your favorite rapper (i definitely told her this lol, its Lupe Fiasco)? whats your favorite color? What you like to do for fun? How do you make time for fun? What makes you happy? I felt the tears erupting behind my eyes because I didn’t know how to answer any of them. I didn’t want mom to feel she failed as a parent. Its the same kind of guilt i have with my Dad. I always felt my Dad didn’t know or understand me because I didn’t let him. A lot of it was because I didn’t know myself really. 

I’m here at my day job, and outside in the courtyard, some folks are holding a star wars themed wedding reception. Having a ball. Not a care in the world or so it seems. A moment. How much a moment costs? It’s really tough to admit this, but I do feel alienated by friends. I see all these christmas plans, new years plans, and I’m like “man where’s my invite?” I feel like that skit on Kanye West’s College Dropout, “School Spirit II” where one of the characters is talking about how the school degrees is going to keep him comfort. In the midst of the degrees giving him comfort he misses out on all these life experiences such as rising his son and being with family. Work is giving me comfort, and its scarring the fuck out of me that I’m missing out on so much, ignore so much. However with this I do question who wants me around in with good intentions. I secretly get mad at friends that don’t answer the phone. I don’t know how to say it. I get mad when plans fall through. I don’t know how to say it. After trying to call a friend to hang and everything I got hit with a weird comment, “I just want to just say I appreciate how diligent and timely you are.” At times I feel like people think I’m a puppy just waiting on their call. 

I created a note for friends and family. I sent it to someone I’m collaborating with on the latest iteration of Silhouettes Of Scarlet show. Just as a professional thing of them knowing, I may come off not in the best moods when around me. She said, “you’re admired and important.” I hate my mind went there, but am I just important to everyone’s progression? Their own gains? Admired in what way? When was the last time a lot of these people just called or texted me just because? Especially people that don’t know me at all, because what exactly do you see in me? My human is more than my work, but its hard to show that to people. Man, I see what my granny and auntie was doing all these years. They sent the most uplifting messages and I never responded. 

I don’t want to be that “serious” friend, or that “emotionally intense” partner all the time. I want moments to just be. I was incredibly sad in December that I had cut off one of those groups that allowed me to just be because one of the people in that group actively sides with my rapist. Its odd as hell because they always have something to say about upholding feminist values, sexual assault awareness. Where the fuck is the line drawn? Because this person looks like you? You resonate with certain behaviors of loneliness they display? Are you anti-black? I have evidence that points in that direction as well. Fucked up thing about it, no one is going to check you on it. Just like you won’t check someone else’s fucked up behavior. How much does a black life cost in your eyes? 

A police killing is a police killing. No matter how you spin it. Its Horrible. ICE killed a black man recently, Keith Porter Jr, and several other people of color since these raids popped off. Now white folks up in arms over a white woman getting shot in the face. Reportedly people raised 1.5 million for her family. The black man that got killed people raised 60K. You can’t tell me people care about black men because y’all don’t. It’s rooted in history. 

Revisiting a song I made, “sincerely, a black’s boy’s cry”, its violent because it has to be. Thats the only way anyone listens. Its a popular song of mine,  that I almost never perform. I aint trying to glorify, but I’m asking for help and no one is listening. I have to kill someone on a record, in a song for you to get it. America pays attention to violence. Someone can write create the biggest cry for help on self-harm and ideation, no one would bat an eye. That same person turn around and kill someone to release then it becomes “what the fuck, they’re a monster! They are a messed up person!” Well, do you understand the makings of a so-called Monster in some these spaces Karen? You’re not going to listen anyway. The lack of active listening evolves to “well I get depressed and struggle with grief, anxiety, diagnosed with X, Y and Z” while completely ignoring the intersectional identities at play while black. The several layers, systems of oppression compounding one another. For the sake of the argument, no, no one should ever be a victim of violence. No one should never inflict violence on someone. Period. Full stop. What I’m sharing is what pushes people to a boiling point. When we talk about revolution from a political standpoint, revolutions are violent. Its revolting. Voices of the unheard show you just how loud they can get for you to pay attention and bring forth a change. In addition to revolts, there’s education behind it. Frustration.

When NWA said, Fuck The Police everyone saw how law enforcement are overseers in the black community just in a different uniform with upgraded weapons and backing from institutional power. 

I see a lot of my non-black counterparts online saying, “why aren’t yall protecting black people? Why isn’t anyone doing anything in these spaces?” I question their integrity. What exactly are you doing yourself? Aside hitting the latest trend we pioneer, dance, rap, fashion style, become outrage after latest police or ICE killing then disappear til the next one occurs. I’m not saying to stop living your lives. I’m saying fucking do more. Stop throwing the word “community” around for gain. 

If I shared my most rawest thoughts at this moment, I would have the entire world breathing down my neck for thinking of some shit like that. A lot of my new music contains violent lyrics or calling people out. 

I sincerely hate I have to contemplate going at a space I occupy for them to hear me and for this shit not to happen to anyone else ever again. 

I don’t want this business to strip away this last bit of human i have left. My sexual assault/rape situation I have made me a bit irritable, easily annoyed, angry, kind of an asshole at times. The energy is present because I can’t hold her accountable. I sway back and forth on actively holding my community accountable for not making better attempts at creating a safe space. A community leader had the fucking nerve to tell me “I get to learn how to not put myself in that situation again”, as if I knowingly put myself there. Its crazy. In addition to this, I was told “we just create this space for people to express themselves, everything that happens outside is for them to deal with. We all have our own lives to deal with.” 

After hearing that and processing, just have to say, I lost a lot of respect for you. 

Listen, if you just want to be an open mic space, just say that. Don’t do this stupid shit of claiming to be something you’re not. At this point, you’re virtue signaling for personal gain. For example, we take two people: person “A” and person “B.” Both people enters this space with a problem. Person B hits person A outside the space. They both come back into the space. Person A feels uncomfortable, tells a leader and gets met with that response. Then what? Are you going to deny safety? Are you just going to sit there? What are you going to do to ensure safety instead of saying a few punk ass words? Bunch of excuses. You can’t control people, but you can control the space you cultivate. Wild enough, telling me it’s just one person thats causing me to generalize a whole community. Your response to the information is going cause a shift. We always talk about being selfish. How there’s a negative connotation behind the word and fighting against that in the name of self-care. There’s nuance to that. Lingering in the selfish space too long in the name of self-care reinforces the idea of the negative connotation, due to not actually helping anyone. Not progressing anything forward. 

The beginning to my 2026, was just flat out filled with anger and numbness. The desire to take everyone down when the quiet comes. When im by myself. Facing that anger. The worse part about it all, is my abuser has done this to not only me and the guy I know about, to which she told straight out of her fucking mouth, but several other men. SEVERAL. I remember someone approaching me that was dragged in the middle of everything say to me, “You know what yall problem is with this entire thing? Y’all some horny people.” Implying, that during our break up I was attempting to be intimate sexually when I wasn’t. I never mentioned anything like that to them so the thought of it was just what? This is beyond heartbreaking, but sure everyone is concerned about reputations. Concerned about the person that actually caused the damage rather than the person that gotten hurt.

Someone towards the end of last year straight up told me. A hood girl. “You need to feel that shit. Stop being a fucking bitch, and cry that shit out. Theres a choice you have to make soon, i feel it.” I return to the park where me and my abuser walked often. I feel sick. I gaslight myself into believing i wanted it. I don’t want that shit back, but i get it when they say survivors stay in a place because it’s familiar. The last time things felt even remotely normal with life in general was this park. My auntie would send those random messages. My Dad was still here. Joe was here. I wasn’t beefing with people (that deeply.) I was going forward with my career. Things wasn’t perfect but it was a normal I was growing used to. Its not about the relationship itself it was surrounding it. Walk the same route away from the park to remember the strength it took to say enough when I got looks as if she was going to hit me. 

To every hood nigga reading this because I know some of this shit may sound weird, but imagine you woke up one day in the middle of a minefield. Can’t move. Can’t sit down none of that. In addition to that, any action you do has a consequence to it. I had a homie whose partner was abusive towards him. She punched him. Slapped him. Talk down on him. Literally ripped out his long dreads for no reason at all. All happened for a year. One day she hit him and he hit back. He got locked up. Got into fights in jail. Gang bangers pressing his line. I share this because everybody talks wild until confronted with a situation. 

What the fuck can you do? What will you do? 

Back in 2024, in therapy, whenever I talk out of line my therapist would say “Chris your feelings are valid. Before you expose them like you want to ask yourself, What kind of man you want to be?” 

I am fighting for a new normal. Up until my pops passing i saw him fight for a new normal. A life outside of survival mode. Literally the year before he was talking about going back to work, getting a job, knowing damn well he’s in no condition to work. Wait thats wild… as I write this I just realized thats a generational curse. I remember as a kid, my Dad’s mom, would work in a tiny liquor store right in the middle of south central. She didn't have to work at all. I don’t know why she did it. 

Something i been confronting myself over is that happiness factor. Keep working for a piece of happy or letting everything go completely for that happy to come to me? Maybe this is what that girl was saying. The choice. 

Thoughts swirling during my isolation.