Funny story:
I saw a sign that said "UTOPIA: It isn't that far away."
After I saw that sign, my mind went into overdrive. I just came to the conclusion that I'm probably keeping myself from the next level of my journey.
My friends and I were just returning from visiting our homeboy in rehabilitation that got hit by a 18 wheeler.
http://www.naturalfreedom.info/viewtopi ... 913#p28236
He may never walk again and he has some brain damage, but it's mostly just to hit memory. He still remembers everybody and most of the things we did. It's funny how his mind is making up for what he doesn't remember though. The coolest thing about him was how humble he was. His mindset was totally devoted to practicality. Three minutes before a hot nurse walked in he was grilling me about why I was just smiling so much. I told him it was because of his nurse and how she was into him. His logic was fanatically precise even with his brain damage. Later, when he dropped the issue, I told him that he should have already known. I reminded him that he is the best friend I've ever met. It was even funnier how he dismissed my point that the nurse liked him and then turned around and ran game on her like a convict fresh out of prison. Later, my gut told me that she was actually interested in me because of some of my ice. We were sitting very close together, so I couldn't tell definitively just from observation. My gut did some heavy lifting when I saw her in the hall alone.
The three of us leave my homeboy after taking pictures with him. His younger sister was so sexy. I see why she has a kid. Some stupid fuck couldn't wrap that shit up because of her nice features.
About 45 minutes into our trip back to campus, after we're done talking about how much better my homeboy is doing, I turn around and look in the rear view of the car for no good reason. Then that sign hit me like a lead weight.
Anyway, schizophrenic moment aside, thinking that a sign could be something more than it is, I thought to myself that the funniest thing about my staunchness is that it probably is a double-edged sword. The same thing that makes me so resistant to the matrix is probably the same thing that has helped me construct the basis of the life that I'm living. "Utopia: It isn't that far away." I've gotten as far as heavy resistance can take me, and I'm just holding myself back now.
The three of us get to campus and hit up my dorm to grab the drinks. Then we hit up the main cafeteria to pick up drinks. We politic with some females that like my homeboy, and this bitch in the group that has liked my swag/the way I carry myself since she first saw me immediately flips to mirror my position and sheepishly says hello. That set the tone for the night. We're sipping on some 100proof peppermint schnapps I picked up earlier in the week while we politic with some of my homeboy's other friends in the dorm I was supposed to be living in.
I'm laughing at some of these rules that this dude nicknamed "Kush" has up in his room. This poster is from the movie Wedding Crashers. If you haven't seen some of those rules then you should look at them because they have some game even though "Kush" has that atari game.
We finally make it back to "E's" room and my closest friend, since my homeboy got hit, asks "E" to teach him how to dance for this party. He's been saying that it's the biggest dance party of the year because of all the stuff that was going on earlier in the day that we missed to go see my homeboy. Truth be told, the dance party had some different faces, but at the same time that it was large, the party was isolating. Very few of the guys and girls that go my school turned out for the party. I also suspect that the black crowd was diminished because of party competing with a likely party in the black student center. So, we both teach him how to dance. "E" is trying to teach him way to much at once. I just show him how to two-step and move his arms so that he doesn't look weird. At first, I thought he was playing, but he was serious. I suspect that he used to be one of the guys that would just walk around the dance floor and try to grind with anything that didn't push him away. We had a talk about dancing and he mentioned that he couldn't before. I'm pretty sure I made fun of him for being a grinding ass weirdo or something. He takes a lot of what I say to heart and works on it. So, the whole time he's asking me if he's dancing right. I keep telling him to slow it down or speed it up if he needs to hit the beat. I tell him to just get into the music and hit it on whatever part of the beat he wants to hit it on. "E" man makes the comment, "Oh he doesn't know that." In retrospect, I can't believe that the files of my mind hadn't picked up on his inability to dance. I've seen him at two parties. Once, he was leaving with a female that he later on had to tell me in begrudging detail dissed him right outside of his far ass room. The other time he was just walking around and moving a little bit and then walking around. He never got his ass into the middle of the dance floor where he wouldn't even be seen and would have a higher chance of getting grinded on.
A white guy walks into the room, "Omes." It's funny that my half black friend can't dance, but this white guy can dance. I laugh to myself about that shit. Then, I realize that it's part of the fucking matrix. I let it go real quick, and by this time we're all sweating giving my half black friend a crash course in art of moving to the beat. So, I suggest that we hit up the party soon. "E" takes a shower and we get moving.
Our new foursome, hits the dance wasted and ready to move. There aren't many people. My half black friend takes off from the floor when "E" goes to do something real quick. I move off the floor after a couple minutes to retrieve his scared ass and get some water to deal with my liquor cramps. He's talking about hitting up some party and coming back to the dance. "E" reassures him that the dance will be packed in 20 minutes. By the time I return, our foursome was split up across the large dance floor that had gotten far more packed since I went to get water and take a break. I was slightly perturbed that they decided to split up because we had at least 15 females watching us. My count comes from the eyes of two groups of seven women. A few guys asked, "Is this the cool group?" We had enough space to dance in a group and have each member swing in during a high point of the music and show off his skills. I chalk that shit up as part of them trying to get their dicks wet and move back onto the floor. So, for a quick minute, I scope the dance floor to see if the three of them have gotten back together on a new part of the floor that had open space. Nope. They were spread across the floor. My half black friend was busy doing his two step on the edge of the floor. I pat him on the back and move back to where we were initially.
I start in on my moves and in about 20-30 minutes, I have these two twins that I know about from last year dancing on each other. One of them starts, dancing on me. The other one starts dancing on her sister in front of me. A white guy that took some time off last year was grinding on this half-black senorita. In my mind, I had already decided to not worry about how the night went. Nothing different from how I normally think, except I had decided not to resist the matrix and decided not to give a fuck about any females dancing on me. So, this black guy comes up and starts talking to me. I turn away from the twins to greet him because I had partied with him a couple times, and he's a friend of some of the Africans I know. The twins and their two friends take the opportunity to move to a different part of the dance floor because these extra drunk weirdos from a sports team took the opportunity to man handle the group because two of them were dancing on guys. I chalk up a victory in my mind even though it felt like an L at the time. Of course, I didn't see them again that night, but I'm happy because I not only exploited the matrix. Everybody else suffered. The idea not to resist the matrix kept ringing through my head the whole time I witnessed this shit go down.
What I learned is that there are glitches in the fucking matrix. Star talks about this a lot, but it isn't something that you see until you see it.
The rest of the night, I had white girls and black girls move in front of me to dance. When there was space to dance elsewhere. A few times, they moved in right behind me, and I had a dance feaux pa because I couldn't see them. They would rub their asses or arms or tits on me to get me to turn around. When they did that I humbly obliged not only because it's the right thing to do, but also because I can manipulate the status quo. I can choose to let them dance on me or not. Most of the time, I let them dance on me. I just turned around like the girls do to see exactly whose dancing on me.
A question that kept crept in and out of my head was whether or not I should have snatched up a few of the females that started dancing in front of me. I was in the moment, so I didn't have time to think about the question until writing this. My answer to myself now is that I should do it if I want to, and that really answers every situation. There was only one female that consistently looked back at me and closed in on my space. She was also the only female that I mildly wanted to dance on. This is not coincidence. This is something I wouldn't have even contemplated on in the past. I would have staunchly decided against doing.However, the pull to her wasn't strong enough to move me out of my lane. It's partly to do with the fact that I wasn't always looking at people on the dance floor like everyone else. Sometimes, my eyes were on the very animated DJ's that kept the party thumping. The other times I was just had a blank look, and I was focused on feeling good. I couldn't help but smile most of the night because I wasn't worried about anything.
So, after the other three people in my group slowly find their way to me over the course of the night, I decide to pack up and move out. I kept getting bumped so hard by women and guys that I decided to post up on the edge of the floor to keep from being interfered with. Each one of my homeboys chased at least two groups of women away each by choosing to start dancing on them two soon. A group would start dancing near me. They would swoop in. Rinse, repeat. Each one of them moved on respectively, until the last one to make it to me, "E." Had enough balls to keep doing the same shit over and over again until he chased out all the females from around me. They came back, but in smaller numbers. Before he had left, I had opened a window so that air could get into the hot dance floor. "E" had opened the other window. I had wrote "PIMP" with a capital "P" on the window, but a drunk guy from a sports team was hype to crash my fun by scribbling over what I wrote. I smacked his hand and told him to write on another window. I now realize that dude was jealous that he didn't have any females trying to dance near him, so it makes sense for him to copy me in the most base way that he could, mockery. Since I wasn't dancing and he doesn't know how to dance. Fucking with my scribbles on the window is the only way he can fuck with me.
I got tired of dancing and decided to leave. I pick up my bandana that had finally fallen off, and I picked up my extra shirt. It was cold night and floor was extra hot because the wind stopped blowing.
As soon as I hit fresh air, I see this dude that is definitely pimp tight. He lights up a cigarette right behind me, and I see this female come rolling up after him. She says something and he replies with one word in Spanish. Then she starts talking, and he just steps back into the receding corner of the building. She steps in with him and they're both out of site. She shuts up. I can only imagine that the reason she ain't running her mouth is because she had it down his throat or had one of his phallic ass cigarettes in her mouth. The first case seems more reasonable because of how she was leaning into him.
After my entertainment is over, a white guy that's clearly this asian girl's boyfriend rolls up to me with her.
In unison: Can we have a cigarette?
Him: I'm willing to give you a dollar or two.
Her: I can pay you a dollar in class.
Me: If I really need a dollar would I even have cigarettes right now?
Him: No. That's a fair point.
Me: Yeah you can have a cigarette.
He promptly takes his cigarette. I tell the girl to take hers because she's hesitant.
Him: So, what class do you two have together?
Me: (Silent)
Her: 202
Him: Cool. How do you like the professor.
Me: He's better the second time you have a class with him.
Her: Yeah, he's always circle jerking with you in class.
Me: (Silent)
Him: Cool. (LOL)
Me: What's your name?
Him: Mark (or some other mark ass name).
Him: I was just about to ask you the same thing (Yeah right).
Me: xxxxx
Me: What's your name? (I was rifling through the pages of my mind because I knew her from years ago. One of my black friends dumped her ass).
Her: Chrissy
Me: Oh I thought it was kitty (LOL!/Joke to myself about about a virgin/Joke to myself about her pussy).
Me: I couldn't remember because the last time I talked to you, you wouldn't sell me some Ecstasy.
Her: Keep it down!
Me: You think I'm afraid of security?
Her: NO. I am. I just got out of trouble. I missed going to jail for two years.
Me: That's your problem, not mine. (Pause). You're lucky. I dodged them for 13 years.
Him: You she's been going to the liquor store for three years and they still call her Christy.
Me: (Silent)
Her: I can pay you back in class.
Me: It's yours.
Her: I can pay you back in class. Are you sure?
Me: Don't worry about it. (I think this is staunch, but I'm on the fence somewhat. Do I want her to have a reason to get at me besides actually wanting some dick, or do I accept the fact that she may play up some guise, or do I continue with my line that I don't need money?)
Her: Ok.
Him: You know the professor said he biked from the bottom of South Africa to the tip of Massachusetts on acid (showing his gullibility).
Her: He's always making those bad weed jokes on the first day of class.
Me: I don't believe him. (I don't believe you/duh, there's an ocean separating the America and South Africa).
Him: It's not common knowledge. He doesn't talk about that to students.
Me: Yeah, he'll probably tell me himself soon. He offered me some Cognac in his office.
Him: Cool, you know he does drugs with girls.
Me: Yeah and he fucks the student girls too.
Her:
Really?
Me: Yeah, really.
Blah, blah, blah
Him: Later. We're about to go to the cafeteria.
Her: See you in class.
Me: Later.
A wonderful end to a good ass day.
"Utopia: It isn't that far away."
"What I learned: If you want to..."
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