Truth Serum
The 20s are all about being real with not only yourself but everyone around you. Everyday we wake up and put on the masks, the facades, the illusions that prep us to be perfectly put together enough to venture out in the world. What lies beneath stays there, hidden behind hours of pretending. Then those times come when you get too tired to put on your masquerade, and the truth of yourself and about other people come out. Ready or not, here comes the truth serum.
*First and foremost, if you're apart of my digital social circle you know I attended the NEACURH (RHA conference) this past weekend and my recaps are infamous. I was going to write one, but postponed it for this one. Don't worry it's coming, most likely with a new video too. Prepare yourself, we'll be kickin' it old school with those posts.
The truth has a funny way of coming out and it also has a way of hurting people. Why do people lie? Why do people withhold the truth? Why do people pretend to be something they're not? All good questions right, but who really has the answers? After returning from my weekend away from campus instead of returning refreshed and ready to knock out my last week of classes before Thanksgiving Break, I came back more unbalanced than ever. I didn't get to speak the truth when I needed to. Why is it so hard for people to say what they mean, and mean what they say? There are so many insignificant things that prevent us from spitting out what we're actually trying to say. There is so much power in those nonsensical things, embarrassment, trepidation, awkwardness, and rejection among other things. That power is only there because we give it to our emotions. What if we stripped away the bull crap, the fears we had, and got down to business. We'd be spouting off truths lefts and right. Well there comes a time in every semester where you literally cannot care anymore and you just go. Watch out world, I'm at that point. I downed the truth serum and now I'll be giving it to people hot and fast, regardless of if they're prepared or not. This past weekend, I saw my college best friend, Jeff, but we were so busy doing our conference stuff that we didn't have time to acclimate and get real to actually talk to each other. There was so much to say, and so many truths to speak about how actually this semester has holistically gone. I needed him. I didn't take it there. I let it be the more comfortable fun playful buddy-buddy bro stuff. Monday came and I spent my morning running around gathering supplies to table for my RHA's social justice bakeaway event. I talked and talked and talked, to just over 120 people about race, racism, oppression, social capital, and the social value of identities. The truth is, it was amazing and gave me so much hope that people actually were apt to listen. The other truth is that my ass is tired of this perpetual battle. I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one fighting, like I'm the only one who takes the time to care. I know it's untrue, but the personal truth of the matter is unless I'm seeing you put your money where your mouth is, you are not an ally to me. The evening came and with it our last executive board meeting where I was just slinging truths like it was my damn job. Oh it was palpable, that truth serum was potent as hell. Telling it how it is and not giving the safe, easily digestible, basic versions of the truth. Tuesday happened, and I just wasn't giving anyone the pushover PG variation of me they were so used to. After a long day I was taking some personal time to watch some TV and I was interrupted (we all know that invading my TV time is a cardinal sin in my eyes) and I just let my fraternity brother have it. I checked him so hard and I think it caught him off guard. I'm going to need you to analyze your intentions and look at your actions, cause me being your backup friend and troubleshooting teleoperator is the reality our relationship. That's fine to a certain extent, because you've obviously made it clear I'm nothing more than a pair of ears to listen, and I'll do my duty, but let's not push it past there because truthfully, there may not be anything past that at this point. Ooph, those truth bombs though - they hurt, but they're necessary.
The thing about me is that I'm pensive. I'm thinking constantly. I'm wondering about myself and other people and their relations to me (right because I'm the central character in my life story). I'm always partially bitter that almost always I'm the one to check on my friends. I'm thinking you can really go this long without hearing from me, classic one-way outreach. Slowly but surely, I'll realize I'm not a priority in your life but can we speed up the process of determination of our state of either being or not being actual friends. The truth part comes in when I'm literally telling people about me and they're not getting it (whether it's because they can't, don't want to, or aren't understanding me, I will never know). Who am I? It's someone contrary to popular belief. I'm nothing like what people think of me as. The first words that come to mind when you think of me probably are popular, put together, well-spoken, confident, and probably even self-obsessed. Well that last one is correct, but in a different context. I'm actually reserved. It's only when I feel comfortable, safe, and wanted that I'll let myself be open (funny, pragmatic and honest). I'm quiet. I may be vocal but in actuality I don't say much (at least about myself that is). Everyone gets the abridged, curtailed, enhanced to be an audience pleaser, facts of my life. I'm scared ... all the time. I'm nervous. I'm terrified of everything new, situations, places but most of all people. Speaking up is a battle for me that I just barely win. I leave so much unsaid. People hear me but they don't hear me, because if they heard me then they would actually listen when I spoke to them. I repeat myself constantly because people aren't listening closely enough to actually take in what I'm saying much less read the subtext of my speech. I'm insecure. I change multiple times in the morning because no matter what I wear I cannot cover the ugly truth of the social invalue of the identity I hold as a person of color. I don't see anything about me that could ever be desirable. Everything is too skinny, too big, too protruding, too wrinkled, too awkward, too brown to be anything worth valuing. I'm weird. Everything I like is not what other people like. I like the media (writing, reading, photography as well as TV, movies, and pop music). I'm a walking game of catchphrase that I've inadvertently patented for mass reproduction and feel like nothing more than the punchline to everyone else's jokes. I hate hugs because people give me them for annoyance's sake and get a reaction out of me instead of sincerity. I don't like looking people in the eyes because they may look into the depths of my soul and see all my imperfections. I keep myself busy to give me some semblance of relevance in other people's lives. The truth is I'm not popular. Nobody knows me, nobody takes the time to know me because I'm good at getting people think they do when they really don't. Nobody picks up on the context clues that I drop. I test people and they almost always fail to be who I want them, no need them to be, even though they have no idea that's what I'm looking to them for. Just because I pretend to be perfect doesn't mean I actually am. Truth serum has run out and I'm here, wearing nothing but the naked truth that I'm forever the boy who knew too much and who people knew not enough of.
The 20s are all about keeping it real. Whether you let other people know it or not, there's a lot more going on behind the fronts we put on a daily basis. We build walls not only to keep people out, but to keep ourselves in. We do whatever it takes to keep our sense of normalcy, disregarding that the game we're playing isn't normal. Oh how liberating it is to be free from the bondages of fallacies, and falsehoods. Down the truth serum, and shout from the rooftops the veracity of who you truly are.
My blog post for the question is ... when does the truth usually come out for you? Yeah, when people have pushed me passed my limit then I just serve up the truth on a gleaming plate of "I don't care currently." #sorrynotsorry
*First and foremost, if you're apart of my digital social circle you know I attended the NEACURH (RHA conference) this past weekend and my recaps are infamous. I was going to write one, but postponed it for this one. Don't worry it's coming, most likely with a new video too. Prepare yourself, we'll be kickin' it old school with those posts.
The truth has a funny way of coming out and it also has a way of hurting people. Why do people lie? Why do people withhold the truth? Why do people pretend to be something they're not? All good questions right, but who really has the answers? After returning from my weekend away from campus instead of returning refreshed and ready to knock out my last week of classes before Thanksgiving Break, I came back more unbalanced than ever. I didn't get to speak the truth when I needed to. Why is it so hard for people to say what they mean, and mean what they say? There are so many insignificant things that prevent us from spitting out what we're actually trying to say. There is so much power in those nonsensical things, embarrassment, trepidation, awkwardness, and rejection among other things. That power is only there because we give it to our emotions. What if we stripped away the bull crap, the fears we had, and got down to business. We'd be spouting off truths lefts and right. Well there comes a time in every semester where you literally cannot care anymore and you just go. Watch out world, I'm at that point. I downed the truth serum and now I'll be giving it to people hot and fast, regardless of if they're prepared or not. This past weekend, I saw my college best friend, Jeff, but we were so busy doing our conference stuff that we didn't have time to acclimate and get real to actually talk to each other. There was so much to say, and so many truths to speak about how actually this semester has holistically gone. I needed him. I didn't take it there. I let it be the more comfortable fun playful buddy-buddy bro stuff. Monday came and I spent my morning running around gathering supplies to table for my RHA's social justice bakeaway event. I talked and talked and talked, to just over 120 people about race, racism, oppression, social capital, and the social value of identities. The truth is, it was amazing and gave me so much hope that people actually were apt to listen. The other truth is that my ass is tired of this perpetual battle. I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one fighting, like I'm the only one who takes the time to care. I know it's untrue, but the personal truth of the matter is unless I'm seeing you put your money where your mouth is, you are not an ally to me. The evening came and with it our last executive board meeting where I was just slinging truths like it was my damn job. Oh it was palpable, that truth serum was potent as hell. Telling it how it is and not giving the safe, easily digestible, basic versions of the truth. Tuesday happened, and I just wasn't giving anyone the pushover PG variation of me they were so used to. After a long day I was taking some personal time to watch some TV and I was interrupted (we all know that invading my TV time is a cardinal sin in my eyes) and I just let my fraternity brother have it. I checked him so hard and I think it caught him off guard. I'm going to need you to analyze your intentions and look at your actions, cause me being your backup friend and troubleshooting teleoperator is the reality our relationship. That's fine to a certain extent, because you've obviously made it clear I'm nothing more than a pair of ears to listen, and I'll do my duty, but let's not push it past there because truthfully, there may not be anything past that at this point. Ooph, those truth bombs though - they hurt, but they're necessary.
The thing about me is that I'm pensive. I'm thinking constantly. I'm wondering about myself and other people and their relations to me (right because I'm the central character in my life story). I'm always partially bitter that almost always I'm the one to check on my friends. I'm thinking you can really go this long without hearing from me, classic one-way outreach. Slowly but surely, I'll realize I'm not a priority in your life but can we speed up the process of determination of our state of either being or not being actual friends. The truth part comes in when I'm literally telling people about me and they're not getting it (whether it's because they can't, don't want to, or aren't understanding me, I will never know). Who am I? It's someone contrary to popular belief. I'm nothing like what people think of me as. The first words that come to mind when you think of me probably are popular, put together, well-spoken, confident, and probably even self-obsessed. Well that last one is correct, but in a different context. I'm actually reserved. It's only when I feel comfortable, safe, and wanted that I'll let myself be open (funny, pragmatic and honest). I'm quiet. I may be vocal but in actuality I don't say much (at least about myself that is). Everyone gets the abridged, curtailed, enhanced to be an audience pleaser, facts of my life. I'm scared ... all the time. I'm nervous. I'm terrified of everything new, situations, places but most of all people. Speaking up is a battle for me that I just barely win. I leave so much unsaid. People hear me but they don't hear me, because if they heard me then they would actually listen when I spoke to them. I repeat myself constantly because people aren't listening closely enough to actually take in what I'm saying much less read the subtext of my speech. I'm insecure. I change multiple times in the morning because no matter what I wear I cannot cover the ugly truth of the social invalue of the identity I hold as a person of color. I don't see anything about me that could ever be desirable. Everything is too skinny, too big, too protruding, too wrinkled, too awkward, too brown to be anything worth valuing. I'm weird. Everything I like is not what other people like. I like the media (writing, reading, photography as well as TV, movies, and pop music). I'm a walking game of catchphrase that I've inadvertently patented for mass reproduction and feel like nothing more than the punchline to everyone else's jokes. I hate hugs because people give me them for annoyance's sake and get a reaction out of me instead of sincerity. I don't like looking people in the eyes because they may look into the depths of my soul and see all my imperfections. I keep myself busy to give me some semblance of relevance in other people's lives. The truth is I'm not popular. Nobody knows me, nobody takes the time to know me because I'm good at getting people think they do when they really don't. Nobody picks up on the context clues that I drop. I test people and they almost always fail to be who I want them, no need them to be, even though they have no idea that's what I'm looking to them for. Just because I pretend to be perfect doesn't mean I actually am. Truth serum has run out and I'm here, wearing nothing but the naked truth that I'm forever the boy who knew too much and who people knew not enough of.
The 20s are all about keeping it real. Whether you let other people know it or not, there's a lot more going on behind the fronts we put on a daily basis. We build walls not only to keep people out, but to keep ourselves in. We do whatever it takes to keep our sense of normalcy, disregarding that the game we're playing isn't normal. Oh how liberating it is to be free from the bondages of fallacies, and falsehoods. Down the truth serum, and shout from the rooftops the veracity of who you truly are.
My blog post for the question is ... when does the truth usually come out for you? Yeah, when people have pushed me passed my limit then I just serve up the truth on a gleaming plate of "I don't care currently." #sorrynotsorry
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