who is giiilbeaux?

I'm not over it.  Not by a long shot.  I have come to a point in my life where I can say that I hate men and all for which they stand.  Yes, I am being a bit dramatic, but if this isn't hate I feel I don't know what it is.

my bags are packed
so numb i can't react
surpression of the facts
where they do that at?
still i can't believe
the fool you made of me
foolish, jaded me...
love ain't what it used to be

I am a red bird in a sea of blackness
Don't know if I'll land this
Land or sea makes no difference

A stand out, stand in

Made no plans to win
Hell... It is hard enough to begin

It would be terribly hard for someone to walk a mile in my shoes.  There are times when I am completely free of shoes.  There are other times when my feet are bound by wood... unable to move from the infectious state...

Sometimes i walk toward my horizon... taking steps toward my purpose and my dream.  But then there are times when I am stuck going in circles... one leg planted will I move to the left flailing my arms... looking for focus...

For this reason I have two pairs for shoes... I don't know where my path will take me...

Perhaps
Marching over stones, kicking up dust.
Searching for something motivated by lust
Something I cannot trust
Blinded
Binded
Like my feet.

No matter how successful you may be or think you may be, does not mean that you will be happy. You can create the most beautiful clothes (Alexander McQueen), create the most innovative beats (J Dilla), or create the most timeless characters (Zora Neale Hurston), but you cannot create happiness for yourself.

It is one of the worst feelings in the world to know that your art makes other people happy, but it (as it relates to us, the artist) means little when discovering your own happiness.  I believe that it comes from the need to create and wanting others to accept you and your creation.  Understand you and your creation.  But maybe we as artists need to take the time to understand ourselves.  What is it in us that causes us to feel so deeply?  Why is it that we can't find peace in the art that we create? 

When someone creates they are bringing something into existence.  It is as close as we will get to being a creator like God.  Why isn't that enough?  The God in you should be loved fiercely; the creations (that are of God) should be loved fiercely.  But it is something deeper, something innate, something esoteric...  Something I cannot pin point.  Something I cannot define.  Something that I wil continue to search for...

Zora Neale Hurston had a beautiful mind.  She ended up as most of us with beautiful minds do... driven crazy by the beauty in her mind while trying to live in this ugly world.

There is a debate about intelligence and insanity.  I won't say that I have been keeping up with it, but I do believe that there is a strong correlation between the two.  According to a new study, which is linked to the title of the post, the same gene that makes you smart can also lead to mental illness.

I won't get into the debate in this post, but I just wanted to give you something to think about.

Clark Atlanta University Accused of Fraudulently Violating Rights of Faculty Members What is going on with our HBCUs? What can we do to help? It seems that this continues to be a trend among the schools that were founded to educate minority students. Why can we not move past this stigma?