Wednesday, December 6, 2006
The Nature of a Hustler
Every hustler has certain characteristics that stand out above the average Joes of the world. Their natural instincts allow them to see the world from a more radically different perspective than most. At a time when most Americans are overly concerned with self-indulgence, true hustlers are able to step outside themselves and capitalize on the greed and needs of others. Pessimists see a glass of milk as half empty. Optimists see a glass of milk as half full. Hustlers see a glass of milk as a chance to make fifty cent a pint. Some folks hustle for money. Others hustle for love. But the true masters of the game hustle for the hell of it—they can’t help it; it’s as much apart of who they are as their genetic makeup.
The Composition of Game
Game can come at you in all shapes and sizes—the texture and degree by which a motherfucker tries to play you varies according to the situation and circumstance. A niggah who is good at sniffing out street scams can be taken to the cleaners when dealing with broads. Anyone claiming to be able to recognize all forms of game is either lying, ignorant, or just plain stupid as hell.
Game mutates constantly, according to the person or persons delivering it. Golddiggers don’t dig for riches with the same type shovel. Some broads are straight forward and ghetto, while other broads are more secretive and subtle with their shit.
Game is an ever-changing pollutant that has the ability to kill in a variety of ways. This is why it is so important for true hustlers to maintain a united front. With snitching replacing rapping as the new urban art form, the plight of the modern day hustler is exceedingly difficult. The only real hope for hustlers now-a-days is to band together and weed out the fake. United Hustlers, Inc. was created to do just that. We are dedicated to idea of promoting genuine hustlers to the next level. We will work tirelessly to expose the ugly head of game from all angles.
Game mutates constantly, according to the person or persons delivering it. Golddiggers don’t dig for riches with the same type shovel. Some broads are straight forward and ghetto, while other broads are more secretive and subtle with their shit.
Game is an ever-changing pollutant that has the ability to kill in a variety of ways. This is why it is so important for true hustlers to maintain a united front. With snitching replacing rapping as the new urban art form, the plight of the modern day hustler is exceedingly difficult. The only real hope for hustlers now-a-days is to band together and weed out the fake. United Hustlers, Inc. was created to do just that. We are dedicated to idea of promoting genuine hustlers to the next level. We will work tirelessly to expose the ugly head of game from all angles.
Half Full
I have learned many lessons over the course of my life, some good, and some bad. One of the lessons that has helped to bolster my prosperity in this world has been the idea of always surrounding myself with positive minded folks who have a optimistic perspective on life. The world we currently live in is oftentimes dark, cold and unforgiving. Pain and suffering can sometimes hop onboard the life of even the most undeserving of us.
Because of this, I have learned that our only real defense is to shield ourselves in the cloak of faith and to arm ourselves with the ability to see beauty even in the ugliest of situations.
It takes strength and courage to mentally maintain a positive outlook on life—especially during those moments in life when there is honestly no visible light at the end of the tunnel. It’s easy to smile when a crafty joke catches us by surprise or when everything in our world is in order and filled with joy. But it takes a certain amount of strength to smile when your life has become a combination of disasters and misfortune and pain. To smile in the face of adversity as the bible instructs requires a certain amount of confidence and faith in the overall design and purpose of things that is both inspiring and impressive.
I have met people who could stare into the eyes of death and struggle, and smile. They were at peace. They were happy. In the middle of life’s deadliest storm, in the mist of losing everything they cherished in the world, these people looked into my eyes and smiled. Like the man who was paralyzed in a multi-car accident and broke down in tears, thanking God for the good fortune and blessing of being alive. He could have been bitter at the drunk driver who caused such a senseless tragedy. He could have turned angry toward God and cursed the undeserving punishment as an act of unjustified spite. He could have become a miserable and withdrawn man, pushing everyone who attempted to connect with him and love him away. But instead, he had the spiritual strength to see beauty in a very nasty situation.
His story moved me. I am touched by the human ability to overcome adversity in spirit. They are the ultimate testimony of a higher power in my eyes. Because I know how the average person deals with destruction. I know how I used to deal with pain and disappointment. So it has to be a spirit moving inside of them that is more powerful than us. And I am awed by this. I seek it out in everyone I meet.
I know how easily negative perspectives on life can seep in and steal away whatever joy we have left in life. I have known people who were so caught up in what’s wrong with their life that they never got a chance to enjoy the things that were right. The mother who loses a child to a horrible tragedy, spends so many years morning the loss that she forgets that she has another, living child that needs her.
The old question of “Is this glass half empty or half full?” is actually a serious question that can ultimately tell us a lot about the way a person is naturally inclined to view life. I seek out those who see the glass as half full. I am a romantic. I am too passionate for my own good sometimes. I am the boring dreamer who still stares at the clouds some days and picks out the designs of faces and images. I have blind faith in a higher purpose. This childlike belief in a design beyond my understand makes it easy for me to not accept life at face value. It enables me to experience hardship and difficulty and problems and pain and heartache, to morn and grieve my loss, yet still have faith in a brighter day tomorrow, to still enjoy—truly enjoy--the taste of a strawberry Popsicle an hour after a funeral. I am a very sensitive man. I feel compassion for my fellow human beings deeply—sometimes too deeply, the story of injustice by my fellow man in a country thousands of miles from me can bring tears to my eyes and inspire me to attempt to write and fight on their behalf—but at the same time, I still am able to appreciate the life I now have, however disorganized, however uncertain, however painful, however disappointing, however sad, because it is all I have.
In poker, you are not always dealt pocket aces, which is the best starting hand possible. Sometimes, you just have to make the best out of the hand that you are dealt. That is what I do in life. I make the best of what I have, all the while understanding that it could be much better, but accepting it for what it temporarily is, and making the best out of it.
When we focus solely on the things that are wrong with our world, we oftentimes lose sight of all the things that are right with it. The confidence it takes to remain positive in even the worst of circumstances is amazingly attractive to me.
Because of this, I have learned that our only real defense is to shield ourselves in the cloak of faith and to arm ourselves with the ability to see beauty even in the ugliest of situations.
It takes strength and courage to mentally maintain a positive outlook on life—especially during those moments in life when there is honestly no visible light at the end of the tunnel. It’s easy to smile when a crafty joke catches us by surprise or when everything in our world is in order and filled with joy. But it takes a certain amount of strength to smile when your life has become a combination of disasters and misfortune and pain. To smile in the face of adversity as the bible instructs requires a certain amount of confidence and faith in the overall design and purpose of things that is both inspiring and impressive.
I have met people who could stare into the eyes of death and struggle, and smile. They were at peace. They were happy. In the middle of life’s deadliest storm, in the mist of losing everything they cherished in the world, these people looked into my eyes and smiled. Like the man who was paralyzed in a multi-car accident and broke down in tears, thanking God for the good fortune and blessing of being alive. He could have been bitter at the drunk driver who caused such a senseless tragedy. He could have turned angry toward God and cursed the undeserving punishment as an act of unjustified spite. He could have become a miserable and withdrawn man, pushing everyone who attempted to connect with him and love him away. But instead, he had the spiritual strength to see beauty in a very nasty situation.
His story moved me. I am touched by the human ability to overcome adversity in spirit. They are the ultimate testimony of a higher power in my eyes. Because I know how the average person deals with destruction. I know how I used to deal with pain and disappointment. So it has to be a spirit moving inside of them that is more powerful than us. And I am awed by this. I seek it out in everyone I meet.
I know how easily negative perspectives on life can seep in and steal away whatever joy we have left in life. I have known people who were so caught up in what’s wrong with their life that they never got a chance to enjoy the things that were right. The mother who loses a child to a horrible tragedy, spends so many years morning the loss that she forgets that she has another, living child that needs her.
The old question of “Is this glass half empty or half full?” is actually a serious question that can ultimately tell us a lot about the way a person is naturally inclined to view life. I seek out those who see the glass as half full. I am a romantic. I am too passionate for my own good sometimes. I am the boring dreamer who still stares at the clouds some days and picks out the designs of faces and images. I have blind faith in a higher purpose. This childlike belief in a design beyond my understand makes it easy for me to not accept life at face value. It enables me to experience hardship and difficulty and problems and pain and heartache, to morn and grieve my loss, yet still have faith in a brighter day tomorrow, to still enjoy—truly enjoy--the taste of a strawberry Popsicle an hour after a funeral. I am a very sensitive man. I feel compassion for my fellow human beings deeply—sometimes too deeply, the story of injustice by my fellow man in a country thousands of miles from me can bring tears to my eyes and inspire me to attempt to write and fight on their behalf—but at the same time, I still am able to appreciate the life I now have, however disorganized, however uncertain, however painful, however disappointing, however sad, because it is all I have.
In poker, you are not always dealt pocket aces, which is the best starting hand possible. Sometimes, you just have to make the best out of the hand that you are dealt. That is what I do in life. I make the best of what I have, all the while understanding that it could be much better, but accepting it for what it temporarily is, and making the best out of it.
When we focus solely on the things that are wrong with our world, we oftentimes lose sight of all the things that are right with it. The confidence it takes to remain positive in even the worst of circumstances is amazingly attractive to me.
My Plea To Tiyatti
There was a time, years ago, (before the marching, before the picketing, before the sit-ins, before the preaching, before the riots, before Jim Crow, before the struggle) when black folks may have had an excuse to be horrified by the conditions of the public school system as it relates to African-American history. I'm not so sure we have that excuse anymore. As a race, we have become almost impotent--we deal with issues facing our communities only after they have exploded in our faces.
At some point we are no longer able to blame "the system." The most educated and successful within our race have become so consumed by the pursuit of the American Dream that they have left most of our brothers and sisters behind in an American Nightmare.
We can only blame ourselves—majority of the sideline problems that directly affect our communities are self-inflicted. There is no excuse why public schools do not have thorough, integrated courses and classes exposing the rich culture and history of Africans and African Americans.
It's time--I would even argue that it is past time--for our people to stop sitting underneath the shade tree of laziness, waiting on the system to help us. The idea that some other entity can care about us more than we care about ourselves should have permanently evaporated after hurricane Katrina.
Your voice, your passion, your natural curiosity is a powerful one, Tiyatti. I can only imagine how deep and influential your words will become as you continue on your journey into the history of our people. We need that voice—may it come bashing in the doors of our sleeping minds and shake us awake in the middle of the night soon.
Learn. Read. Write. Speak.
You may not know it yet, but a lot of us are listening.
At some point we are no longer able to blame "the system." The most educated and successful within our race have become so consumed by the pursuit of the American Dream that they have left most of our brothers and sisters behind in an American Nightmare.
We can only blame ourselves—majority of the sideline problems that directly affect our communities are self-inflicted. There is no excuse why public schools do not have thorough, integrated courses and classes exposing the rich culture and history of Africans and African Americans.
It's time--I would even argue that it is past time--for our people to stop sitting underneath the shade tree of laziness, waiting on the system to help us. The idea that some other entity can care about us more than we care about ourselves should have permanently evaporated after hurricane Katrina.
Your voice, your passion, your natural curiosity is a powerful one, Tiyatti. I can only imagine how deep and influential your words will become as you continue on your journey into the history of our people. We need that voice—may it come bashing in the doors of our sleeping minds and shake us awake in the middle of the night soon.
Learn. Read. Write. Speak.
You may not know it yet, but a lot of us are listening.
Kunta's Revenge
.
Kunta’s Revenge
The slap of the whip had become too painful to bear. I could feel the skin from my back being ripped away in jagged slabs. Blood and dirt mingled together to form chunks of mud that staggered down my back. I no longer had the strength to scream out my pain. The stench of my own urine made it difficult to breathe. Tears welled up inside my eyes and flowed freely down my face in spurts of intense rage.
The crackle of the whip sounded again. More flesh was snatched from my body. Rusty iron shackles plowed into my wrists and ankles each time I collapsed into silent spasms of pain. My consciousness weaved in and out like the shadow of a clever boxer.
I could hear the whip being whooshed in the air again, ready to lash out at me. I forced my head around and stared back at my captor. Our eyes grabbled for several stubborn seconds. It suddenly became apparent to me that I was about to be murdered.
This realization challenged my resolve. “Is this worth it?” I wondered. “Am I really prepared to die for this?”
A smile formed across my chocolate face. Without warning, my smile began to mutate into a hoarse chuckle that somehow transformed into a vigorous, almost hysterical laughter. Time stuttered clumsily in place as the sound of my laughter vandalized every ear in range. A deep sense of peace enveloped me. I would rather die than tell this inhuman monster that my name is "TOBY!"
I will be Kunta Kinte 'till death.
Kunta’s Revenge
The slap of the whip had become too painful to bear. I could feel the skin from my back being ripped away in jagged slabs. Blood and dirt mingled together to form chunks of mud that staggered down my back. I no longer had the strength to scream out my pain. The stench of my own urine made it difficult to breathe. Tears welled up inside my eyes and flowed freely down my face in spurts of intense rage.
The crackle of the whip sounded again. More flesh was snatched from my body. Rusty iron shackles plowed into my wrists and ankles each time I collapsed into silent spasms of pain. My consciousness weaved in and out like the shadow of a clever boxer.
I could hear the whip being whooshed in the air again, ready to lash out at me. I forced my head around and stared back at my captor. Our eyes grabbled for several stubborn seconds. It suddenly became apparent to me that I was about to be murdered.
This realization challenged my resolve. “Is this worth it?” I wondered. “Am I really prepared to die for this?”
A smile formed across my chocolate face. Without warning, my smile began to mutate into a hoarse chuckle that somehow transformed into a vigorous, almost hysterical laughter. Time stuttered clumsily in place as the sound of my laughter vandalized every ear in range. A deep sense of peace enveloped me. I would rather die than tell this inhuman monster that my name is "TOBY!"
I will be Kunta Kinte 'till death.
The First Love Letter I Ever Wrote as an Adult
Close your eyes for a moment. Seriously. Close your eyes. Not long. Maybe five to six seconds. While you are doing so, I would like for you to take three very deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling everything else that may be on your mind right now. Push everything aside before reading what I am about to say next. Make sure you are alone and able to concentrate completely. Close your eyes now.
Yes, right now. Close your eyes and take deep breaths.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
Open your eyes and imagine something for me. I want you to imagine the deepest love you have ever felt before, a love without pain or hurt. I want you to imagine that love in it’s purest form, before doubt, before heartache. It doesn’t matter when or with whom the love was with or for, just imagine it. I want you to imagine how it felt to love. Imagine what it felt like to be loved back. And just hold that thought for a moment. Remember it. Pure love. Innocent love.
Marlon loves you in that way.
Don’t let go of the memory yet. I want you to try and remember where exactly you felt this pure and deep and innocent love. When you experienced this love, where did the feelings come from? Did you feel it in your stomach? Or did you feel a tingling in your chest? Or was it the thoughts that traveled around in your mind? I want you to remember where you actually felt this love and I want you to place your hand there. I want you to tell me so I can eventually touch you there as well, so that I too can place my hand on the place where your love goes.
Marlon loves you there.
I need for you to concentrate a moment on the feeling that love gave you. If you take a moment to think about it, I’m gambling that you can also tell me what color this love was, what color that feeling was. I know it sounds crazy but just think about it a moment. When you think about the deepest love you have ever known, when you put your hand over the place on your body where you could actually feel this love, can you also put a color to it as well? When you are thinking about this love, what color comes to mind if you had to choose one? Is it light blue? Is it green? Is it red? No matter what the color is, I want you to remember it and tell me. Let that color be bright and radiant in your mind right now. Hold onto it.
Marlon’s love is the same color.
Imagine me now, reaching deep inside of you and using my fingers to paint your entire body with that very same color. Imagine my hands massaging that love, that color, all over your heart, your soul, your being. Can you feel the color spreading throughout your entire being? Can you feel yourself being painted with love this very moment? You are my canvas, and I would like the chance to spend the rest of my life painting a masterpiece on your soul. I would like the chance to dedicate the rest of my life to finding new and exciting ways to make you happy. I would like the chance to one day be the man that you call your husband.
Marlon loves you completely.
“Me and you forever.”
Imagine the tree in the back yard that we carve those words into. Imagine the grandkids that will eventually look at those words and laugh. Imagine a household where your thoughts and opinions and feelings matter. Imagine having someone by your side that supports your decision and encourages you as you pursue your career and dreams. Imagine a relationship where you get to support your man’s dream to become a writer. Imagine a chance to have a solid family unit, mommy and daddy going to PTA meetings, softball games, doctor appointments, school plays, high school graduation, and college graduation. Imagine a world where our kids gets exposed to different cultures, places, and people; a world where they grow up honestly knowing that they can become anything they want in life. Imagine a situation where you never have to struggle again to make ends meet, where your major decisions will be made based on time instead of money. Imagine having someone you trust so completely that you can be your true self around him, someone who is willing to love you in spite of your imperfections and insecurities. Imagine being able to talk about anything with him without ever being judged or condemned, all by a man who wants to take the time to learn who you really are. Imagine a relationship so strong your man will never cheat on you or hurt you intentionally. Imagine a love so powerful that his happiness is based on yours, his pleasure intensified only when you have found pleasure. Imagine never feeling satisfied or complete until the arms of your man is around you. Imagine always feeling safe and secure, knowing that your king will defend his kingdom to the death.
Marlon loves you.
I’ve asked you to imagine these things because they are a portion of the endless possibilities that we have in front of us, they are a few of the things that our relationship has to offer. How much are those possibilities worth to us? How much are we prepared to sacrifice for the relationship to become a reality and reach its full potential? How much are we prepared to give each other, how much are we prepared to take away from each other? How much are we willing to deal with and take in the name of our love?
Imagine. Just imagine,….then let me know if this is possible for us.
Love
Marlon
Yes, right now. Close your eyes and take deep breaths.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
Open your eyes and imagine something for me. I want you to imagine the deepest love you have ever felt before, a love without pain or hurt. I want you to imagine that love in it’s purest form, before doubt, before heartache. It doesn’t matter when or with whom the love was with or for, just imagine it. I want you to imagine how it felt to love. Imagine what it felt like to be loved back. And just hold that thought for a moment. Remember it. Pure love. Innocent love.
Marlon loves you in that way.
Don’t let go of the memory yet. I want you to try and remember where exactly you felt this pure and deep and innocent love. When you experienced this love, where did the feelings come from? Did you feel it in your stomach? Or did you feel a tingling in your chest? Or was it the thoughts that traveled around in your mind? I want you to remember where you actually felt this love and I want you to place your hand there. I want you to tell me so I can eventually touch you there as well, so that I too can place my hand on the place where your love goes.
Marlon loves you there.
I need for you to concentrate a moment on the feeling that love gave you. If you take a moment to think about it, I’m gambling that you can also tell me what color this love was, what color that feeling was. I know it sounds crazy but just think about it a moment. When you think about the deepest love you have ever known, when you put your hand over the place on your body where you could actually feel this love, can you also put a color to it as well? When you are thinking about this love, what color comes to mind if you had to choose one? Is it light blue? Is it green? Is it red? No matter what the color is, I want you to remember it and tell me. Let that color be bright and radiant in your mind right now. Hold onto it.
Marlon’s love is the same color.
Imagine me now, reaching deep inside of you and using my fingers to paint your entire body with that very same color. Imagine my hands massaging that love, that color, all over your heart, your soul, your being. Can you feel the color spreading throughout your entire being? Can you feel yourself being painted with love this very moment? You are my canvas, and I would like the chance to spend the rest of my life painting a masterpiece on your soul. I would like the chance to dedicate the rest of my life to finding new and exciting ways to make you happy. I would like the chance to one day be the man that you call your husband.
Marlon loves you completely.
“Me and you forever.”
Imagine the tree in the back yard that we carve those words into. Imagine the grandkids that will eventually look at those words and laugh. Imagine a household where your thoughts and opinions and feelings matter. Imagine having someone by your side that supports your decision and encourages you as you pursue your career and dreams. Imagine a relationship where you get to support your man’s dream to become a writer. Imagine a chance to have a solid family unit, mommy and daddy going to PTA meetings, softball games, doctor appointments, school plays, high school graduation, and college graduation. Imagine a world where our kids gets exposed to different cultures, places, and people; a world where they grow up honestly knowing that they can become anything they want in life. Imagine a situation where you never have to struggle again to make ends meet, where your major decisions will be made based on time instead of money. Imagine having someone you trust so completely that you can be your true self around him, someone who is willing to love you in spite of your imperfections and insecurities. Imagine being able to talk about anything with him without ever being judged or condemned, all by a man who wants to take the time to learn who you really are. Imagine a relationship so strong your man will never cheat on you or hurt you intentionally. Imagine a love so powerful that his happiness is based on yours, his pleasure intensified only when you have found pleasure. Imagine never feeling satisfied or complete until the arms of your man is around you. Imagine always feeling safe and secure, knowing that your king will defend his kingdom to the death.
Marlon loves you.
I’ve asked you to imagine these things because they are a portion of the endless possibilities that we have in front of us, they are a few of the things that our relationship has to offer. How much are those possibilities worth to us? How much are we prepared to sacrifice for the relationship to become a reality and reach its full potential? How much are we prepared to give each other, how much are we prepared to take away from each other? How much are we willing to deal with and take in the name of our love?
Imagine. Just imagine,….then let me know if this is possible for us.
Love
Marlon
Please Shut Up!!
"If you haven't snatched up a few rifles and aimed them at the war criminals in Darfur; if you haven't yanked out your billfolds and purses and tossed something into Sudan; if you haven't attempted to explain to the ignorant masses how genocide affects us all; if you haven't found a way to volunteer your time to help the thousands of missing black children displaced by hurricane Katrina; if you haven't done anything of substance to help uplift black folks you don't know (and, by the way, donating money to your church so your pastor can own three Mercedes and live in a half million dollar home doesn't count as a contribution to the struggle); if you haven't given my generation of hoodlums anything other than lip service; then please, pretty please, shut the hell up when your mouth dares to limp open and criticize the youth or black males or black role models or sagging pants or scantily dressed women or gangster music or spinning rims or anything else that seems to irritate you about the hip-hop generation. Please, just shut up. Our people are being exterminated right in front of our eyes and you are down here frowning, with your nose in the air, over a pair of jeans that happens to hang too low? Most of you struggled-out has-beens are just too lost for words."
--Marlon leTerrance (Nightshade)
--Marlon leTerrance (Nightshade)
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