about june 14th
BRRRRRRR!!!! What happened to that boy!
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!! What happened to that boy!!!!
Woke up this morning just going BBRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!
As someone whom has been living alone and single for some years now I will let you in on a lil secret. I am used to being alone. My brother was 8 years older than me and I was a bit more of a loner than anything else. All of this to say that when you spend that time alone you pick up certain habits. One of them being saying certain things out loud and if its funny laughing out loud about it followed by commentary to myself.
Yesterday’s example: “Brrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!! What happened to dat boy!!!, BRrrRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! What happened to that boy!!!!”
(5min later)
“BRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, “BRRRRRRBRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!”
(walking into bathroom)
“BRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!”
(walking into kitchen) “BRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!”
(bigass smile grinning at myself while walking into my bedroom)
“BRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT BOY!!!!!” “BRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!! HA!!!! SHAWT YOU SO DAYUMSTOOOOPID!!!!!”
I don’t know if its evident or not yet but I love myself and I am quite honestly a funny motherfucker sometimes and that is one of the many joys of getting to be in my company, and if you can’t tell yet I love being in my own company. (Just sayin’!)
Another vague thought is that walls tend to be thin here. Well, my current lil apartment’s walls aren’t so paper thin as some others that I have been privy to here in Berlin. With that being, do the neighbours think I’m crazy? I mean there is just a black dude downstairs or next door going “BBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!” spontaneously throughout the whole morning. What could be wrong with him?
Not sure if it were figured out yet to whomever is reading this but the last week I had been listening to that Birdman and Clipse track from some time ago which the “BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!” was supposed to be Birdman’s bird-themed call.
Context is everything huh?! lol
The day starts to settle in. Reality of the time starts to settle in. I start to remember hearing about the guy shot in the back by police at the Wendy’s on University Ave. (In Atlanta) The day starts slinking back into the past weeks and now is only accented by a new murder also caught on film. I get a text saying sorry about Atlanta.
I end up making the mistake of checking the Facebook timeline and then finding out what happened and just seeing more from old friends in Atlanta.
(I should also state that I am not naive to the irony at hand)
Sinking
My son arrives and is super happy to spend the day with me even if it means we have to clean up some still, it’s Sunday which he knows that means that the probablility of us having pancakes is increased. Yes I do have stuff for pancakes ;) I’m trying to keep a certain composure and not descend further into that thing. I end up having to try and decide what to tell him and how much. It’s of course irresponsible to have your child unaware of these things and also with my son being biracial he still needs to be aware of certain things. There will always be a part where you either have to let them be a kid. There’s also another component of not letting things control you or having more of a sense of being in control of yourself no matter what is happening.
I made the mistake of searching for Rayshard Brooks to try and make sure it wasn’t someone I knew personally. It wasn’t. I didn’t recall knowing him ever. His daughters birthday party was Saturday. His daughters birthday party was Saturday. That wasn’t a typo…. His daughters birthday party was Saturday. She was turning 8. Thinking of lil mans bdays of course… All of the time and preparation. Trying to make sure that no matter what it was at least something special for him.
It’s no longer a sinking, more like a full on descent. Lil man is still being happy and I feel like I’m not properly participating in his happiness. I already have a pre-made batter and have been making pancakes on autopilot for the last 10 minutes by now. I put on another pancake and while it cooks I stop and speak to him. I tell him I’m sorry if I seem a touch down and express that it definitely has nothing to do with him. I tell him that someone else was shot and killed again in Atlanta and that it was getting to me, so that if anything with daddy seemed off then it definitely wasn’t him and that he shouldn’t worry about it or take it personally.
We exchanged a few words. We ate pancakes. Played a little bit of Battlefront 2 against each other. Then started to get ready for going to pick up some plants for the apartment before rearranging furniture in the room. As per usual I put on some music while getting ready. I had been listening to that Thundercat album “It is what it is” for the last weeks and always loved it. Revisited the track Funny Thing the day before and it always does a thing when it hits just right! Saw there was a video for the track and definitely had to check it out. It was a basic cut up of a party scene from a Dolemite movie. Honestly, between that music and seeing so many black people just having a good time and no worries and being just who and what they are felt just right, and it so so right. That was what I needed.
I smiled.
The rest of the day was dotted with me singing the chorus and lil man going “Oh no not this again!” as is per usual when I get a song stuck in my head and I sing it the rest of the day.
The combination of that track and its imagery saved me.
Life
Living
Just, trying to live life. There are things to fight for and life is one of em, but when is it possible to just live. I know that not all parts of humanity understand the appeal or can sympathize with singing Birdman exclamations to oneself. I know that not all people can know about the stress and exuberant yet subtle joy of getting ready for your childs birthday.
Thats part of the joy of just living. Being able to stress. Being able to agonize. Being able to make mistakes and learn from them. Being able to take joy and pride in your life and doing what you think is best regardless of if anyone else knows what song you’re singing or not.
