The following blog posts of this week will involve me trying out a process called, Three Good Things (Greater Good in Action). It asks those who take it on to write down three things that lifted their spirit and put them into a positive mood. Trying it couldn't hurt and may even be fun. The result is for me to stop focusing on the negative and picture the good of what happens in my day-to-day.
Early Bird : Managed to get up with the alarm to make it to my job on time this morning despite the earlier start time for holidays. Breaking Bread : Me and a friend shared some lunch while on break at work. The conversation and grub made for a pretty chill lunch time. Work Delayed : My public speaking class rescheduled our next speech by another week. This gives me more time to prepare and definitely brought a smile to my face.
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The following blog posts of this week will involve me trying out a process called, Three Good Things (Greater Good in Action). It asks those who take it on to write down three things that lifted their spirit and put them into a positive mood. Trying it couldn't hurt and may even be fun. The result is for me to stop focusing on the negative and picture the good of what happens in my day-to-day.
Laughing about dumb stuff : Me and a friend of mine were standing at the side-entrance of my work place standing in for security. For no reason at all I stared at the camera we were supposed to be watching and mumbled, "Yeet" just to get a laugh out of him. His response was, "YEET" yelling it even louder. The moment was stupid, but just that little interaction was enough to make us laugh for 2 minutes. That Bang Energy : Late into my shift I was throwing some boxes into our store's trash compactor. A coworker came into the back and mentions that he was thirsty. "Hey this drink is still here? Its been there for a whole month now, people really that scared of it?" He points toward the can of Bang, a root beer flavored energy drink as he approaches it. "Bro nobody wants any parts of that." I replied before going back to what I was doing. My attention gets pulled to him as I hear the 'pop' ringing from the can as he was about to drink it. "Yo, you really about to drink that?" I called out to him in an unintentionally shocked and dramatic voice. "Look man I need the energy. But you sound completely thrown off about this." he remarks while trying not to laugh too hard, causing me too laugh just as hard as we was. Red Lights : Driving home from a fast food place I was coming up on a yellow light. Knowing that I was close enough to blow through it I sped up and made it just in time. In my rear view mirror I saw that someone who was right behind me, though a little far, pushed through the light too. What made the situation funny to me was that I knew they had just blown a red light to which I remarked to myself, "Yo people out here wildn' ." with a grin on my face. The year is 2004, Qaadir is nine years old and was excited to spend the weekend hanging out with a friend of his. It was a Friday, and that also happened to be the date that his friend, Brian, would be getting a visit from his cousin. Whom he had moved away from a couple months back. They used to live on the same block until he came to Qaadir's neighborhood. The three of them decided to come together and play a game they assumed was their own making, free for all basketball. Each shot that you made went toward your own score. But to keep neutrality they made a rule that no player could help another make the basket. It kept things competitive and balanced. Today the sun is shinning brightly, and the wind blowing gives you the nicest blast of air when your body experiences heat waves from all the movement. The court itself is divided into two parts all surrounded by a green cage and separated down the middle to create two sides. With the flooring colored a darker green. Both sides of the cage being full sized for two separate groups to play at the same time, and usually both are taken up right away. Between the bigger kids and adults on the block, kids like Qaadir hardly got the chance to use the court. With it being empty on a chance like today, it finally him and his friends a chance to see what an actual court was like instead of some kiddie little stand set-up in the driveway. Today like Qaadir had hoped was going to be a good day. Over the course of their little game Qaadir manages to take the lead. But the lead scoring shot causes Brian's cousin to get angry. As the ball fell through the net and he picked it up, Brian's cousin started to argue the fairness of the shot. He makes a claim that as Qaadir jumped for the shot he elbowed him as way to shake him away from blocking. Qaadir rises to the argument but when he challenges the other boy, the other kid even though short than Qaadir retaliates with more anger. What was at one point playful trash talking between the three boys was now blowing out of proportion. Qaadir looks over to the third of them standing off to the side, waiting for his friend Brian to step in and shut the situation down as he knows them both where Qaadir only knew him. Though Qaadir would do it himself he can feel that it would be out of his place to do so since he doesn't know the relative at all. So he attempts to diffuse the hostility with a little joke. But with the current vibe between the two, instead of saying it lightly it, his following words take a more serious tone. “Whatever nigga, I didn’t elbow you. Maybe you should watch yourself when playing someone taller? Every time you try to block me it feels like a fly is getting in my way.” The other boy knows that what Qaadir just said was a shot at his height. Removing his shirt the boy take a few steps closer into Qaadir's space. But he wasn't phased. By now Qaadir is used to other kids trying to use scare tactics on him. The only reaction the boy can get out of Qaadir is a rather disturbed and uncomfortable look in his eye as he took a step back. Not out of fear of the other boy striking him, but because he simply likes having his personal space at the other kid was starting to weird him out. He also doesn't want the other kid to get the wrong idea and start assuming that he was scared. So instead of backing away further, Qaadir decides to dig his fingers into the ball he is holding. “Say something else, nigga, and I PROMISE I’ll slap your sht.” The words echoed as Qaadir listened to them. Immediately the words put themselves on replay in his conscious. Tried as he might the rage inside of Qaadir built up like a geyser overflowing with heat. The ball which he was holding through the entire ordeal eventually couldn’t bare the brunt of this anger anymore. Of course, being a child, it wasn’t like Qaadir could crush the ball with his bare hands. But more so that it just wasn’t doing enough for him anymore. Pressing into its buoyant surface with his fingers as the words spoken seconds earlier start to ring louder. All his youth, all his childhood did he let people talk to him anyway because of his longing for companionship. At the start of this year Qaadir told himself that he would deal with things like this no longer. The orange sphere in his hands became like a tether. A way for him to project his building outrage as to not ruin what little fun he was hoping that we would get back to having. Just hoping that this spat would blow over. But the last thing he was willing to allow himself to let happen is to stand there and let another kid talk about bringing harm to him just because he was standing up for himself. So Qaadir drops the ball. As it fell toward the green pavement he raised one fist and cocked it before driving it into the face of the kid before him. Pain, he could feel pain. Qaadir meant to put this kid in front of him down, which he did, but the response from his fist wasn’t what he was expecting. Qaadir threw the punch wrong. But the adrenaline was kicking in and before he knew it, the kid was scrambling back to his feet while he was busy shaking out the hand he struck the other boy with. Brian's cousin retaliates by going for a body blow into Qaadir's stomach. It connects but their difference in size and reach allows Qaadir to roll his body with the punch thinking it was hitting him sooner than it actually did. Throwing his head back Qaadir rams his head into the other boy before tackling him into the ground. His fist start flying. Pounding away at the boy beneath him as hr vented his rage and showed Brian's cousin that he was nowhere as big as he thought he was. More pain. Except this time its erupting through Qaadir's head. A blow to the right side of his temple rocks him. It was Brian. Of course Qaadir couldn’t have expected him to sit there and watch his cousin get bested in front of his own eyes. As Qaadir laid there trying to regain composure over what had happened, a foot crashes down into his abdomen. Qaadir immediately reacts by covering himself and curling into a defensive ball, but the rest that he couldn’t cover was open for fire. Fist, kicks and stomps rain down all over. Eventually it ends. Qaadir watches as Brian walks away with his cousin whom was wiping his mouth clean of the blood running down his lip. Rolling onto his back Qaadir groans as his body aches with pain, staring into the sky that despite of what just happened, was still as peaceful as ever. “What did I just do?” He questions himself as he climbs to his feet. He is shaky but he manages to gather himself and rise off of the ground. He touches his lip and winces at the sensation of broken flesh. Blood was now on his thumb and only reminded him of what he had done and how stupid it was of him to do so. With nothing else to do at the court Qaadir walks home. Looking at his hands as each foot passes over the other. The wind blowing against his face and easing the fiery pain that was abusing the wound on his mouth. He walks through his front door and passes by his mom on the way to his room. “Qaadir are you okay? What happened?” “Nothin’. Nothin’ happened.” He replies before going into his space and closing the door behind him. In this addition to my blog, I will be composing a found poem by using my Narrative Project as the source. For an idea of what a found poem even was I had to read What is a Found Poem?, and view these Sample Found Poem's as examples. The year was 2004 I was nine years old It was pretty sunny The breeze gave you the nicest blast of air Today like I had hoped was supposed to be a good day. Instead, someone shorter says I elbowed him We don’t know each other Waiting for him to intervene My friend of two years by now, Brian Watching it all go down Stuck standing, in surprise I walked out of the court Now a few days after Sitting on a brick construct He finds me to apologize I wasn’t to interested in hearing what he had say I was too angry Question : Do you think the narrative provides enough descriptive language to create a compelling found poem? Answer : There was descriptive language for me to use but now that I have tried forming a found poem out of the narrative, I think more could definitely be added. Question : Do you think the descriptive language more so creates a setting or delivers the subtext of a theme? Answer : Re-reading this found poem I get a sense of subtext over a theme. When writing the narrative I spent a lot of time trying to describe how I was feeling in the moment without realizing a lot of that was tied to events that happened further back. So instead of theme a being produced I ended up with what I believe is subtext or a sense thereof. This post will consist of me both revisiting and revising my earlier entry 'Composing a Past Scene'. After completing the prior story I have decided to follow-up with some crucial pieces of the story that were glaringly absent. Some text has also slightly been touched up to be more accurate to the dialogue that really took place.
In today's blog post I compose a scene taken from a moment in my past that had a drastic impact on my life. To get a grasp on how this is properly done I listened to the podcast, What You Don't Know by Lulu Wang). “Shut the fck up, alright?” I hear the words being said to me, but as I listen to them leave the mouth of the little midget in front of me I give myself time to pause and let it register. Is this really being said? I thought we were just playing a game of basketball but ever since I took the lead things have gotten way out of hand. Being the same age as this kid I don’t really have the right to rip on his height, but with us being the same age he was still somehow smaller. I’m here holding the ball, an orange sphere lined with black and a team logo designed at the top. Spinning it every now and then as insult after insult comes to mind. It’s the year 2004 and today I, a friend and his visiting relative were supposed to be having a good time down in the public basketball court this afternoon. It was pretty sunny, and the breeze gave you the nicest blast of air when your body was overheating from all the movement. The court itself is divided into two parts all surrounded by a green cage and separated down the middle to create two sides. With the flooring colored a more darker green. Both sides of the cage being full sized for two separate groups to play at the same time, and usually both are taken up right away. The grown-ups always laid claim but today it was empty. It finally gave us kids a chance to see what an actual court was like instead of some kiddie little stand set-up in the driveway. All in all, today, like I said before, was supposed to be a good day. Instead I’m being sht talked by someone shorter than me because he wanted to call a foul due to a shot I made over his head. He says I elbowed him on the way up but I know for a fact that wasn’t true. But every time I try to argue he ups his disrespectful ante. Now I get that we don’t know each other and sometimes smack talk happens but something about his vibe is rubbing me the wrong way. I’m looking over to my friend of two years by now, Brian, waiting for him to intervene as his relative continues to berate me. If they weren’t related I would have already let my arrogance loose. But I’m not gonna do that to someone who my friend rarely got to see. “Whatever nigga, I didn’t elbow you. Maybe you should watch yourself when playing someone taller? Every time you try to block me it feels like a fly is getting in my way.” Now what I had said obviously got under the boy’s skin. Because now he was exposing that damage by removing his shirt as some show of power. I always hated how people did that. The last thing I need to see is some shirtless elf trying to call himself bossing up on me. It’s embarrassing for everyone here. Instead of saying anything further I rolled my eyes as I used the ball as s source of ventilation for my anger. I clinched it tightly with my fingers while tapping against its surface with my thumbs. “Say something else, nigga, and I PROMISE I’ll slap your sht.” Now that really got me irritated. The moment the word ‘slap’ was aimed at me I immediately looked in Brian’s direction. Except now I notice he too is just standing there looking at the both of us with his shirt slung over his shoulder. “Are you serious dude? You gonna let him talk to me like that?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about man.” “What is going on, did I do something to you? You’re not acting like yourself at all.” “That’s a lie. I am myself all the time, this right here IS the real me.” After he said that to me I was just stuck standing there with my mouth gaped open in surprise. This always happened. I should have known better than to come out here and be apart of this. Whenever I was around someone I called a, “friend” and their relatives were present they always changed on me. Or as we call it, “flipped the script”. They would show off more, act all big and disregard anything that was said if it wasn’t coming from their own blood. It always confused me because I hung out with my own siblings around other people all the time. But I never felt the need to act any different. I been down this road before and at this point, I’m just tired of traveling it. So with a slanted eye I darted my irises between the both of them before admiring the ball one last time. Spinning it around to admire the design. Then I beamed the ball into Brian’s hands. He caught it but I could tell by the wince in his eye that it definitely hurt his wrist in doing so, and that brought me satisfaction. So, I decided to leave the court and as I was walking away I only said these few words. “Well if this is the real you I never knew you then, so have fun.” And I was gone. As I walked to my house that day I was tossing a decision back and forth in my head while each foot passed over the other. Should I still talk to him or would it just be a waste of time? How many times would I let this happen to myself before I realized how much it hurt? But we were friends for two years now and he’s the only person left in the neighborhood who’s cool with me. Now did that mean I would have to let myself get steamrolled by the same scenario over and over? Nah, not a chance. So today was gonna be the last day me and him ever spoke. Now a few days after that my mother would come pass my room and tell me that Brian had stopped by, but after that day I wasn’t to interested in hearing what he had say. Until one day he finally walked up on me whilst I was sitting on a brick construct that had a full view of the whole block I lived on, looking up at the clouds. The moment was kind of surreal because that was how we met. He was sitting where I am now and he was upset because he had lost his ball. I was the one who found and returned it to him. We started hanging out every day after. You see, he was the new kid on the block at the time and didn’t know anyone. I knew how that felt. Funny thing is, that was the very same ball we had been playing with the same day I decided not to speak to him anymore. “Hey man..” his voice was low, carrying his words with a sense of regret. He took a seat next to me and I was half tempted to leave, but I didn’t. “Back to being yourself yet..?” I asked bluntly. Not even looking in his direction as I addressed him. His answer would set the tone for how long this conversation would last and if it was gonna be friendly at all. “Look man I’m sorry about the way I was acting, I don’t know what came over me bro.” and the apology comes out. I had to admit, I was shocked. “Is that gonna happen every time, bro? I always told you how I hated that stuff and then you did it.” “There won’t be a next time..” And then I paused. He comes over to apologize, and here I am ready to mend the friendship. But the way he said that is just hanging in the air. Was that him agreeing with me or was he talking about something else? “What..?” “I’m moving. I just wanted to say sorry before me and my family left.” Again, like before I was thrown off. By the time he finds me to apologize he’s also telling me he’s moving away? Why come and find me? Why leave me on this note? I was so confused and angry. More than anything I was hurt. It had been more than three weeks we had stopped talking at that point, and it was mostly my fault. All that time I had wasted trying to prove how I didn’t need anyone and now one of the only friends I had left is leaving me. I didn’t know how to feel then and sometimes I still think about it now. Not spending the time we had left because I was too angry will always be something I regret. Now let me go into detail of how things escalated the way they did. During my younger years, I'd say from age 5 to 10, I'd have had many people call me a friend but all I really was, was a convenience. Those same people would always abandon me when someone more preferable came around and when playing with those who they actually hung around, would leave me high to dry. No invites or even being told I wasn't included when I figured I was. Living a different life due to my faith led people to believe I thought I was better than them because I acted and spoke differently. Because I wasn't really into being a 'bad kid' I was also considered boring and annoying. But when they were in-fact bored they would come around me for entertainment and me being desperate I would gladly accept them. But the entertainment would usually end up with me being picked on for laughs. Or even having things taken from me just to see my reaction and then have those things broken or tossed on rooftops. I was a lonely kid who had no REAL friends until I had ran into Brian, and a lot of times I'd tell him about these things because he would ask me after seeing some of it first hand. So when he did this I guess I blew a casket. Maybe within good reason, maybe not. This occurrence didn't just teach me 'one' thing, but a whole lot more than I bargained for. |
QaadirOn this site, I plan to express myself. So feel free to read the stampede of text, but never get the idea my blog's the best. Archives
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