supervillian strikes again,

Ahhhh. relaxing after a wonderful and entertaining weekend in chicago. got to do some shopping, found lots of good sales. got a couple new pairs of shoesies, which i am very excited about, checked into my hotel, which was entertainment in itself, something like out of a palahniuk read, twisted, real, and not something in which the mainstream recognizes. There was a plexiglass mirror over my bed, and an old 80s poster that you might also find in a nail salon, that reads "ECSTASY" in cursive underneath an outline of a silhouetted woman holding a rose. there was gum stuck in the red carpet, the rust colored paint extended past the trim to the ceiling. cigarette burns in the comforter, one large, but multiple, reminding how many people have been in and out of this bed. uck, i found a mission, which was to find an alternate sleeping situation. so i hid my things in the shower, which i later found out only gave a drip wash when turned on full blast, making for the ideal whores bath. hehe.

anyhow, i put on my black tights, and short black heels and took off to go witness a meet-up, with the mighty mos, and the supervillian in flesh, DOOM.
after waiting outside, in the cold of a winter night in chicago for about a a half hour, i make it inside, much after the time promoted as the

start of the show. I find a dj on stage, not mos defs, not dooms. lucky me i haven't missed anything. and so i find my way to the spot i feel will be best, and wait, and then for the next 5 hours, im experiencing the opening acts to the headliners. BBU, a hip hop trio from chicago, comical, but def. not vibing on the level the crowd was coming with, so they eventually are booed to their last song. then comes Mike Relm, a cat from San Francisco. He starts spinning and has video edited simultaneous to the music, it was quite entertaining, but still the crowd was to ready for the mellow, retrospect they would find themselves in when the headliners arrived. Finally 130 am rolls around, and mos def hits the stage, everyone gets thier second wind and is hyped. Mos brought a very lyrical set through, and stuck with newer stuff. Some people were bummed about that, but in my opinion, they are listening to a man who is ahead of his circumstance, an artist who is inspiring progress, and i think this is very clear in his music. Hes tackling the now, hes writing music about the current things hes experiencing. Would it be more meaningful if he was always reflecting when he performed. go home. listen to that cd when you want to go there. and then its over, mos def leaves the stage as Doom's hype man enters, and then here we all are, that things weve all stood for HOURS waiting for is happening, but suddenly a feeling of angst sweeps, and everyone is paying very close attention to the performance of the alleged mf doom. I know, i cant take my eyes off of the microphone, and the mouth behind it, and the hype men are hyping, and the speakers are filled with their heavy breathing, but for some reason, mf doom barely is taking breaths between words, "its amazing, he sounds just like his album", i say to myself sarcastically, as i switch my vision to the dj behind him, who is obviously pretending to spin. From here, i look at the foreign beauty next to me, and ask, " where is it from here?" im not as disappointed as i thought i would have been, mos def really did it for me, and it gave me more time to enjoy chicago, on a cold winter night, for what it really is. en amour avec le monde.

" I want to take an endless drive underneath that big Texas sky. I want to watch the sun set on the fences, feel the soft breeze coming off the water, hear the crickets late at night, lie on the upper deck and see the entire milky way unobstructed by signs of life. I want to hear the caleche rocks crunch under my worn out flip flops, throw rocks at rusty pans hung up on a wire fence, and feel the cultural vibes of San Antonio deep in my soul. Three years ago, however, i wanted nothing to do with these things. They disgusted me, repulsed me, and made me question why my parents would ever choose south Texas, of all places, to live. But now I understand. It's not just the scenery, it's not just the slow.pace of life, and it's not just the endless horizons. It's the southern hospitality, it's the friends who are there for you WHENEVER you call, and it's the promise of a man's word. It's the implicit TRUST that lies understood between even complete strangers, and it's the place where being nice isn't a crime. " - Sarah Digby. 

she speaks of feelings that ring true to me when i revisit these feelings i last had in new york. 

im sitting in brooklyn, feeling a little snakey, " Ciao Bella," he says as he shuts the door to leave for the airport.  oh and the imagination a new yorker can stir up.

I hear flavourful latin music rythmatically cradling the streets today. Puerto rican day in Brooklyn. 

a car pulls up bumpin some other shit. some real shit. some urban jungle boy beat with some truth and some passion. the perfect mixture for relevance, its hard to understand when your always walking in our shoes. step into  place like this, and you wear all the shoes because the only clue youve got to whats going on is by observing those around you. catching the flow, then finding smaller patterns. - and im back to the song, and the lyrics, 

"  Ay-yo I warned you, now all niggaz could do is mourn you

I'm born to kill and still thrilled, I put it on you

There's no regrets, remorse, only results and loneliness

Only the strong survivors strive through life as warriors

All of us die, some of us kill, even massacred

Who wanna try? Punisher will if you ask for it

I'm hazardous for your health and hell's your next stop

For real my shit's cocked the world has just stopped..."

- big pun 

im supposed to open up the wormhole this week. im in way over my head, and then you add unreliable people to the equation causing for a stressstorm warning this week. mm great.