The Blog

the cool

Our friendships are made of… the buzz. The cool, the mixed signals and covered moon. Genuine laughter. Dancing something with no name to it with you but would rather be doing anything else. Something like the middle finger, the smile, white teeth showing. Dimples, and beaches, and jungles, and weeds, and healthy foods, and tattoos, and something we think original. Pronounce that right, thank you. Whatever, go on, be happy. Topless models, breathtaking conversations, patios with great views, nights we’ll never remember and real love. Caramelized popcorn, back-to-back movies, and unforgettable sex – reel love? Hour-long somethings and chills. Under-exposed photos, the blurs. Designer shit. Good nights, bad mornings, gorgeous women with dark shades of lipsticks, tired eyes getting everything they want. Not you sweetheart, something like the movies; the noons, the mixed signals and ever coveted moons.

What are we selling? We’re on our third passport and we’re bored. Wouldn’t change a thing though.


A night full of talking that hurts; my worst held-back secrets, her worst held-back desires. Lord, our hearts can’t take this! But we keep on. Everything has to do with loving and not loving. Mystical conversation; often, the closest we come to surrender is orgasm but we’re past that… where are we? Closer. We move; milk, and honey, and warm chocolate, and a stirring of the spoon comparable to your waist around mine. Dancing something supple but we break.

This night will pass, but we had it. The night will pass, then we have work to do.

music to sleep two

Sometimes the night gives more than it takes and you bring all the stars home with you. And the rain, and the moon, and the whole damn storm. And she looks at you – says, “You make love to me like you’re going to lose me and there’s no convincing you I’m here to stay awhile. Such sadness.” And all she’ll remember is the morning you convinced her to stay awhile, the temperature. The afternoon you showed her how to carry a knife and still trust everyone, how she’s the thing at either end of the gun. Church.

next afternoon

this morning

last night

What It’s Like Growing Up Smart And Poor

You feel like an X-Man.

From a minority’s point-of-view, you don’t actually realize that you’re smart (different) until later on, and when you do you see that the smartest choice to make is to not be smart (different). Let me explain.

First off, I don’t consider myself particularly developed in one area of intelligence, I consider myself to be naturally above average in most forms of intelligence.

I’m black and I grew up poor. Very poor, and thus I grew up in the worst of neighbourhoods and the worst of intelligence enhancing environments. Though we were technically well-off where I came from (Rwanda), when I emigrated with my sister and mother to America we quickly joined the American lower class/working poor. My mother being a single-mother usually worked two jobs just to feed us, clothe us, and to put us through school. On top of that, we moved around a lot, but usually stayed in the same state, from one apartment to another (I think this is because my mother couldn’t pay the rent on more than one occasion).

There was no such thing as money left over to spend on books and movies. The only books my sister and I ever received from our mother were a bible, and an ancient kid’s encyclopedia (that she most likely got for free from someone/somewhere). We had a television set but never had cable, and we got an old computer when I was around 13 with no internet, which I didn’t seriously pay attention to until I was a junior in high school. (We only got the computer because our mother was married to our step-father at the time, who’s a failed CS major. Every time I peaked at his CS books or asked what he was doing with the computer he said it was too complicated for boys like me and to stay out, so I did, more so because he was an asshole.) The only options really available to me and my sister most of the time were to stay inside and draw (we’re both considerably above average in the naturally artistic departments), or to go out, explorer the world and get in trouble with friends.

Although at home I had quirks like Continue Reading →

What It’s Like Working With Elephants

Elephant Trainer

Though it’s mostly for show, I technically have an elephant trainer’s/ caretaker’s license from Thailand. One could go so far as to call me a Mahout.

The best I can say is that “training” elephants is a complex subject, but living and working with them is… holy.

There are many methods to training elephants and I chose my mentors based on theirs. Most elephants in Thailand are Continue Reading →

What It’s Like Sleeping Two Hours A Day For A Year (Polyphasic Sleep)

Polyphasic Uberman Dymaxion Sleep

After your body gets a handle on the extreme military-like conditions your stupidity is forcing onto it, it’s amazing and then unbearably boring.

It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.*

  1. Above all, you learn how to nap wherever possible no matter how. You make sure to secretly always be in possession of a sleeping-mask, you sneak out of parties to nap before returning, you learn how to catch naps in bathroom stalls, all cars start resembling portable beds, &c..
  2. Your sense of time is nonexistent. Although you only sleep two hours a day (via six 20-minute naps), each nap feels like eight hours of sleep and every four hour segment feels eleven hours long; every day feels three days long (equally filled to the brim with darkness and then light) and every week feels like a short February. You would think this would make you lazier, but in reality the opposite’s true: with them being your only means of time-keeping (from your body’s perspective) every nap equates to the end of a day and so you become psychologically conditioned to finish everything on your plate by the time you have to sleep (you’re slowly forced to always be focusing only on the tasks that matter). This eventually has you completing a week’s worth of tasks in two days time, half a week’s if you’re lazy Continue Reading →


Madonna said, “Don’t treat me like I’m special,
I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

but you loved her. and she loved you
and the whole world knew it