The Key...

Here i sit, motionless and contemplative surrounded by water almost as clear as my feelings for you; more peaceful than white sandy beaches and sea star sandwiched mangrove roots is my mind when I picture your shimmering smile. The intricacies of your being, the way your bangs curve like minor wake; your dainty hands extending out to me, sea lettuce pertruding from the shallow sea floor. Your smooth cheeks sit like fair clouds, your eyes curious enough to send gusts of wind to and through me. Three days, years, and still i'm captivated by your mysteriousness, your reclusivity. And when i'm not captivated, i'm deterred, frustrated. Your blue skies and fair waters are my perfect storms and monsoons. I am dying to pursue you as passionately and properly as possible, but "no wake zones" surround you. I am a speed boater, and you a sailor. End of story. Or is it... The winds, both of love and of sea,are ever-changing, unpredictable winds. The tides, whether high or low, never disappear. If anything, realize this: your river, despite the twists and turns, the meandering or wandering, will always lead

...To My Heart

JbP

Politically Correct?

As i have grown and matured, I have begun to see things that I may never have seen in the past. My eyes have been opened to the flaws of family, friends, and the biggest one is my school.

Yes, St Paul's is a great institution, one which has given me a very solid foundation to build on in college and beyond....

but our major flaw here, is political correctness. At SPS we tend to attempt too politically correct too much of the time. I find it absolutely amazing that in a community like this, one in which we pride ourselves in diversity, uniqueness and individuality, one cannot speak his or her mind without reprecussions.
You know, a few weeks ago, a student gave a speech addressing a controversial issue, and at the end of the speech, most people got up and gave her a standing ovation. Ofcourse, there were exceptions, but what amazed me was the fact that they were reprimanded for not standing up. Correct me im wrong, but you only get up and give someone an ovation if you personally think it is deserved, not because the poeple around you are standing.

Those that are brave enough to speak their mind always get the furthest....
political correctness is not always the best way forward....

... But I'm Not Complaining

All of my friends and form are in the city right now, or on campus enjoying their last break as a VI former. I on the other hand am in glorious key Largo, with a terrible trip adviser who thinks that I will willingly adhere to her tyranical methods of control like everyone else.This teacher, call her... Ms. Flacks... is the least pleasant and most annoying, obnoxious, repulsive human being I've vme across in recent memory. She alone has turned bronzing sunshine into bleak rain, clear blue waters into murky brown sewage, and interesting marine organisms into pesky and mammals.
Her presence makes my skin peel as if I had been in the sun too long, her voice makes my ears feel flooded with water, and her figure actually makes me wish I were home. She has turned a potentially great experience into just another school trip.

This trip has truelt been indicative of my time at SPS: I experience a completely ridiculous situation, I rebel against the cause of that situation, I establish myself as "that guy", and I repeat.The only difference I see between my time in key Largo and all of the other wack situations I've found myself in while at SPS is that now I have the abilit to blog about it.

(And just to tie this back to the title)...

It may sound like it but I'm not complaining.

ABAP

lubeen, i hope you don't mind that i stole your acronym. Dude - i'm getting As Bronze As Possible!

As I type this on my blackberry, I am sprawled out on a picnic table soaking in sun on beautiful key Largo with my great marine bio class having the absolute time of my life!

Actually, surprisingly, unfortunately, most of that is false. I am stuck with some dry personalities, tyranical chaperones,one smelly roommate (don't worry lubeen smells fine) and I honestly would rather be anywhere else, including concord nh where its 80 degrees and we have no school.

But there's no sense in whining. It impedes the sun rays from reaching my skin and as you all know:

I'm trying to get ABAP!

Afterdark Simpson House Chronicles: Part III

Enjoy...




En Absentia from from Video Credits:

Josh Herrera as J-Springs

William Scopa as Mr. America


El amor conquista todo

- Mr. Jackson

The Final Straw

I have had enough. Enough of the clowning, the pretending, the falsities, pretentiousness, you name it, and I am sick of it. I am not one for in-fighting, or commentary that can be viewed as derisive, but I do not hold my tongue when there are pressing issue at hand. This is an open letter. Take it however you wish. But getting offended only runs the risk of perpetuating the issues. You know my room #, we can chop it up if necessary.

1.) There is no figurehead in the 5ive. Forget what you heard, or what you think you saw, or that time Gbola and I argued in the hallway. It wasn't about anything. Seriously. We are all the best at what we each individually do, that is precisely why it is the 5ive, and not 1ne plus 4our.

2.) Ego. Egos, egos, egos. Let it go. We all want to be the freshest, flyest, best dressed, and what have you. But there comes a time, when we must look ourselves in the mirror, and then smash it with a brick. It has ceased to be about us. The minute we made our Common App passwords and began selling our souls to the monopoly that is College Board, a process was put into motion, which is quickly coming to fruition. Look around. There are entirely too many underformers on academic review, on bounds, bagging classes, for us to be concerned with the latest fashions. It is imperative we do everything in our power to influence these younger students, because we didn't have that when we came in.

3.) Time Management. Please believe I did not forget. We are all 18 here ( I see you Lubeen, its all love) yet we are complaining about how much time we see each other. It was all good just a week ago (c) Jay-Z. Or so it seems. No one was having these problems in the Fall Term, or even Winter. And if you were, you did not make it as explicit as you have now. We are all busy but if we were really concerned about not seeing each other..it really only takes a walk across campus. So..just be easy...if we were friends throughout the majority of our four years here..that will continue for long after this...so be easy..For the sake of everyone.

Please be aware that I am never above my own reproach. I believe the mark of a good writer is one who can take his own fallacies and shortcomings and make them presentable to a wider audience. Grow with me.

- Mr. Jackson as the Bad Guy 

Ode To the Starving Artists

For those of you who may not know me that well, and even for some who do, I like to write. I write poetry, stories & songs (although that department is still under development, so don't expect anything from there right now.) I know there are innumerable amounts of people out there who have (or believe to have) artistic talent and hope to use their skills as a meal ticket. I am not one of those people (I do this for fun, my plans are "Deeper Than Rap" (c) Rick Ross), but I can completely understand and even empathize with the authors, poets, rappers, singers, composers, playwrights, actors, etc.

This is my dedication to those who keep the Art alive against all odds.

Poetry can help fulfill my insatiable thirst for attention and recognition

but I can’t eat words or drink creativity.

Regardless of how many minds my lines penetrate,

thoughts they impregnate,

and vivid dreams they conceive,

the price of art can’t compete with the price of eggs, cheese,

bread, meat,

or a sandwich from the deli across the street.

Sex sells, poetry doesn’t.

So when you all were sleeping, I wasn’t.

I was up fighting, writing, biting back the hunger pains

that tore into my stomach.

While my thoughts flourished, my body cried out,

malnourished.

Three course meals of shrimp flavored ramen DO NOT constitute

a balanced diet.

Just like my imagination, my gut could not remain quiet.

But I had to let it know that I hungered for something bigger than a meal,

and far more unique.

Something that could incite or quell a riot with a move of the lips,

something supernatural, a true poets gift.

And until I attain it, I’ll continue to eat sleep,

drink spit, and write with the passion of Christ,

so that one day I’ll no longer be trapped in the darkness,

and I can finally pay for the lights.

As Always,

Pax, Amor et Musica

To Thine Own Self Be... Accountable

As I sat on the periphery of the round table - Alumni of Color on one side, Students of Color on the other - I reminisced over my last four years at SPS. There were hardships, there were low points, there were catastrophes, disasters and defining moments; yet, out of this heap of all of this, call it... shit... blossomed Flowers of Opportunity, whose pedals continue to mature and ripen so as to be plucked (or ceased - recognize here that Carpe Diem most literally means "pluck the day") at that most beneficial time.

More interestingly, while listening to their stories and simultaneously reflecting on my own, I noticed that all of these successful alumni not only achieved here at St. Paul's and at the institutions to which they matriculated, but also that the blueprint of they're stories followed more or less my own: Highs, lows, accomplishments, failures, and success ultimately at the end. In the moment, I felt somewhat disappointed that I would be unable to claim the courageous feat of overcoming disappointments to reach goals; that could just be the selfish, conceited, soloist in me. I flirted with the idea that this is not just about me; or about what I can gain from another via nepotism (which I fully support), or about how quickly I will be able to grow my bottom line. 

But now, as I write, or as I begun to write, about my earlier reflections I stumbled across a realization! (Can you believe that, two in 1 hour?)

It is about me.

It's about what I can do to ensure that generations before and after mine feel connected; it's about what I can do to maintain the trends of success I have established for myself and my peers; it's about what I can do for this school that has seen me through so much. I believe that too often, we concern ourselves with another's agenda: "Is he/she doing everything he/she can to ensure that he/she graduates from this school with results reflective of the high standards that he/she failed to meet?" is just one example. We, speaking in terms of my generation, have been fortunate enough to live in a time period where we've had to worry less about the perils of racial and ethnic discrimination. To acknowledge that, we need to be more concerned with our own individual success living up to that standard that was set for us generations before. The realization and sustainment of success begins with Accountability.

JbP

p.s. Any alumni viewing this blog looking for a charismatic, gregarious, intellectual intern please comment in the "comments" section.

Afterdark Simpson House Chronicles: Redux

Part 2 of the Dorm Chronicles.

Disclaimer: my sincerest apologies for the brief use of profanity, I will try harder in the future to keep my posts fully clean.

Enjoy



Mr. Jackson