Crevices of the Mind: Best Jam Session, barely any music.

In the movie Up in the Air, George Clooney plays a motivational speaker that advocates everything but commitment. Whenever he would do a speach, he would ask his audience to imagine that they were going on a trip..or vacation. And he'd ask, "What would you put in your bag?" Old friends? New shoes? Ipod? Sentiments, like pictures that remind you of old friends? "Pictures are for people that can't remember," he said. I remember that. And I've thought about that a lot over the time. Pictures are memories. Agreed. But memories aren't always reminders, nor are they always for ones who can't remember. Sometimes....Most times....shit, every time...memories play the role of a teacher. A memory cannot only help you remeber but also open your eyes to things that you've never even known or realized to begin with. Memories show you more than what was. Memories show you what will become.

& this lil' youngbol' here?? is not the past, nor the present. He is the future, which is beyond us ALL. I love him just because he exists. And I embrace that feeling, even though I wonder how love could fall from the sky the way it does for him. I don't understand...

But nonetheless, I'm so glad that the past left me such a great present.

A merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

-peeeaaace.

Prepare for

The best of 2009: We Ride Septa edition

Hey you (Yes YOU),

One day you wake up and the world that you're preparing to walk out into won't be the the same as it was yesterday. Sure, the sky will still blue (masking the CFC'S seeping out of our ozone), the air will smell the same, the people you meet will be unchanged, there will still be that undetermined stain on the sidewalk, in the mirror you'll greeted by the same face..But the same things won't matter anymore.

You might wake up and put on a pair of Visvims instead of Jordan's, Jordan's instead of Nike's, Nike's instead of no name's..Or you might just wear a different brand of socks. Maybe the change won't be physical either..Maybe on this particular day you decided to say "hi" to that girl who always gets on at the stop after yours, or maybe you'll finally punch that douche bag in the face, there might even be a chance that you say something "douchey-er" than you normally would, maybe you'll get punched in the face.

Whenever that day is I hope that you come to this blog and find a reason to smile, frown, be perplexed, or become annoyed that we've yet to post for the 4th consecutive day. On that day that you wake up and the world has changed, I hope that your faith, hate, love, boredom (or whatever brings you to We Ride Septa regularly) does not change.

Bear with us

: )

"Noise Sweatshirt"

Dope.....

"I didn't know central was so diverse." -Arlene Ackerman

So, the superintendent of the Philadelphia School District comes to the alma mater of both me and Nya - formally known as CENTRAL HIGH SCHOOL (byotch). During an assembly, the students basically boo'd her off as she was introduced to the stage....

Agreed - Central students are jackasses, okay. Fine. But that does not excuse Dr. Ackerman (the Supa).

Here's the situation at hand: Dr. Ackerman wants to make philadelphia a more successful environment with the plan to uplift 85 public elemntary, middle, and high schools with a more hands-on personell and a better application and acceptance system that makes school with great success a little more accessible to the less fortunate. That's great =D, round of applause.

I'm sure she comes with great intentions, and if not....big surprise, she's a politician. But w/e. I think that making all the underacheiving schools better is excellent, as long as it has nothing to do with imagine 2014 (But it does. read up). But, because this little agenda involves loosely accepting less qualified students into special admission schools, central don't real fux wit it.

This is basically a case of, "I'm trying to bring affirmative action into the school system to make this city better." Little does Dr. Ackleman know, the exact opposite will happen and central will eventually ooz down into a neighborhood school. Central knows though..that's why theye boo'd her ass.

I guess every central student knows exactly what it's like to be a "rich white man" in America right now. I mean, here you have someone that wants to create equal opprotunity for the less fortunate, and the more fortunate boo's her off stage. The ones with priveledge, and opprotunity, and a future ahead of them boo's this person that wants the rest of the school system to have what they have. Not knowing that the money to build their new classy library was the money taken away from schools that underacheive because they dont have money to begin with.

But hey, know one wants to make a difference at their own expense. Right, rich white guy? Riight.

Politics just entertain me. that's why I watch CNN like it's MTV. I'm just sayin

-peeeeeeeaaaaace

The Crevice of the mind: Beginnings

Just to clear up the confusion, "The Crevices of the Mind" contributor to the bottom left is no longer a contributor. That was Samir & I's joint name while we were the only writers on this blog.

Any who. I don't know what it is about that combination of words that gets me but, it just sounds too beautiful not to be written multiple times. Possibly because it really is (and describes) everyone's innermost thoughts, emotions, grievances, etc..Or perhaps because I find it to be catchy (kind of like cuh, or fuck it). In any case, some time last April I was inspired enough by the words to consecrate a multiple stanza'ed set of rhyming thoughts. After presenting it to my Mom, Sister, and inevitably facebook..It was forgotten about.

Prior to any thought of the poem, I was alone (with the exception of my camera) in a dark hallway in the Senate building shortly after the inauguration. Months after that, a friend and I ventured outside of our Hall to find that the campus was absolutely gorgeous when barely lit and soaked. And tonight after searching Hewleus for a worthy post, I've discovered that when put together, the combination depicts the closest thing (on earth) to my phantasm of that holy place.

Know this though, I said on earth for a reason. If for whatever reason God were to read this, bless me with a spaceship, diving suit, camcorder, and a lobotomy; I would be able to show you my actual mental image.

Until that happens, this will have to do.


Welcome to the Crevices of the Mind

Eighteen with the world ahead of her
stars to the left of her
and the sun shines down on her perpetual dreams.
Purposely she's placed them with forever so she'd never lose sight of what she'd seen.
See she's been chasing forever with a steam.
So lost to find it-
as she rolls up her sleeves
to breathe air from the life intended just for she.
Oh, the moons beams a smile, intended just for she.
So her intentions in life match her aspirations perfectly
and vividly,
intuition screams,
"you'll cross the sky to light up the night like astronomy.
Destined to be seen, seperate from all commodities.
Extend bare palms in exchange for comraderies.
If found comatose they'd dissect you like lobotomies."

So she kept a surgeons hand on her thoughts,
deliberate and cautious with a fear to get lost,
in the crevices of the mind. Beware at all cost,
deeper than depth lies the valley of frost.
Memories of a void in the soul, refusal to be whole-
after she'd let her guard down and took the armor off.
Stripped of all and dignity, she fought-
only to fall and find that she'd lost
hope and life
but her angel lifted her
and that dark tasted light-
as she inhaled an engine's exhaust.
High enough to touch the sun, when the plane shutoff
and the angel left her to fly and kiss the clouds so soft.

So gently she descended past the stars and time that she'd wrought,
touching only the sins that she'd been and the rights that she'd wronged.
Blowing cosmic powder on the lyrics of a song that she'd yet to write.
Still it's melody haunts her mind in the black of the night.
So loneliness has gone.

and now forever calls you,on and on-
in pursuit it seems she's running on and on.
No destination just, on and on.
The wings are off, just on and on-
top of the world where the entrance is drawn-
in green and red
noise is dead and a sight beyond it she's yet to find.
In circles on and on and on and on until she breaks cycle into the crevices of the mind

Silver Collection Jordan VI