Month: March 2014

I’m so sweet, keep birds with no beat.

Keep the piece between my jeans and polo briefs.

My flow so tough I crush niggas confidence.

My flow hot like a pot of ya grandmama grits.

I don’t understand you lil niggas stewie griffin

In a all white bryan but the roof is missing.

Niggas lyin, talkin bout they in the newest denim

Them jeans atheist, they ain’t true religion.

 

When you shine, they pull you down like mini blinds

But I done fell and then rose again plenty times

I gotta fight for my position fine, I came into the business blind

But listen now my vision fine.

I developed a better business mind

So I’m not done ima run until I cross the finish line

 

I only mess with ASASP so you know we get it in

We all sore losers so you know we gotta win

Swear they don’t do it like this I’m on some ice shit

Cold, beat a nigga like night sticks, I write sick

That’s why I got the game in a tight grip

You niggas been done you Vince Young I’m Mike Vick

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q07eDze8pjY&list=ULQ07eDze8pjY&feature=share&index=8

My first crush.

I have never been the kind to come out in the open and tell someone I like them or admire them. I always wait for the guy to be the first to tell me that they like me or ask me out. I don’t know why but I can just never make the first move. Anyways, my first experience at liking a guy was a complete failure because I could never get past him for nine years and nothing happened for nine years. People say that love is unexpected and come at anytime and any place. My version of love was puppy love back in 2002. I know I was such a little girl. I must have hardly known how to tie my shoe lace when the mention of my crush’s name caused my face to turn bright red. I really liked this cute, spiky haired, naughty boy. And I had no idea if he liked me too. During my first year of crushing on him all I had done was copy his multiplication homework (I was always so impressed that he knew the answers). The following year I had made a tremendous progress by seeing his Spider-man underwear while bending down to pick my pencil. By the third year I knew I really liked him because I would ask my grandparents (who were friends of his grandparents) to set up play dates between the two of us. Mischievous me. During the fourth year he called me for his birthday party and I threw such a fit because I did not know what to wear. Finally, I wore a red coat and I can honestly tell you that my face tone looked no different than my coat. Unfortunately, he left for a school in India in the fifth year. After that I never saw him for six years. But all that time even though I never saw him I would think of him and want to meet him. I could never get over him. Then, in 2011 I suddenly ran into him during a local rock band concert. I could not believe it. All my feelings started to resurface and this time it came out even stronger. We talked to each other for a while and he asked for my number. I was so thrilled at the idea of going out with him. So, on a Sunday we went for a walk. But something unusual, something I had not expected happened. All the time I was talking to him I realised that I did not like him at all. I felt nothing for him and I was shocked at the complete emptiness of feeling that now ran through me. It was not because he wasn’t nice or anything. In fact, he was so sweet. But somehow I did not feel anything. After I got home I realised just how stupid I had been all that time. I had held onto some kind of fragment of childhood crush for so long. I felt embarrassed then to think of how much I actually valued something that wasn’t really there. But now I know better than to waste time on feelings that don’t really exist. the kind to come out in the open and tell someone I like them or admire them. I always wait for the guy to be the first to tell me that they like me or ask me out. I don’t know why but I can just never make the first move. Anyways, my first experience at liking a guy was a complete failure because I could never get past him for nine years and nothing happened for nine years. People say that love is unexpected and come at anytime and any place. My version of love was puppy love back in 2002. I know I was such a little girl. I must have hardly known how to tie my shoe lace when the mention of my crush’s name caused my face to turn bright red. I really liked this cute, spiky haired, naughty boy. And I had no idea if he liked me too. During my first year of crushing on him all I had done was copy his multiplication homework (I was always so impressed that he knew the answers). The following year I had made a tremendous progress by seeing his Spider-man underwear while bending down to pick my pencil. By the third year I knew I really liked him because I would ask my grandparents (who were friends of his grandparents) to set up play dates between the two of us. I would also ask them to tell his grandparents that the two of us looked cute together. Mischievous me. During the fourth year he called me for his birthday party and I threw such a fit because I did not know what to wear. Finally, I wore a red coat and I can honestly tell you that my face tone looked no different than my coat. Unfortunately, he left for a school in India in the fifth year. After that I never saw him for six years. But all that time even though I never saw him I would think of him and want to meet him. I could never get over him. Then, in 2011 I suddenly ran into him during a local rock band concert. I could not believe it. All my feelings started to resurface and this time it came out even stronger. We talked to each other for a while and he asked for my number. I was so thrilled at the idea of going out with him. So, on a Sunday we went for a walk. But something unusual, something I had not expected happened. All the time I was talking to him I realised that I did not like him at all. I felt nothing for him and I was shocked at the complete emptiness of feeling that now ran through me. It was not because he wasn’t nice or anything. In fact, he was so sweet. But somehow I did not feel anything. After I got home I realised just how stupid I had been all that time. I had held onto some kind of fragment of childhood crush for so long. I felt embarrassed then to think of how much I actually valued something that wasn’t really there. But now I know better than to waste time on feelings that don’t really exist.

2011: This is one grand mountain. I hope that one day I can reach what is up there, the thing that lies beyond the clouds. I know that if I find what ever is beyond there, I will be strong enough, strong enough for anything. Based on my performance, I can see that I might have a few kinks to work out, but otherwise this should be a simple trial. What I need to do is not give up, I know that what I am looking for lies on that top, lies beyond the clouds. I must refuse to give up…

2012 : This is something to marvel, a mountain as endless as this, as ever changing as this. Was this the same mountain that I crawled on ever since I was young? Was this the  mountain that resembled the same shape that I remember? Years past and I still cannot see the top, what lies beyond the clouds. There is so much that I wanted to experience, so many people I have crossed that I want to meet again, but as a different man. This mountain, this identity is not the one that I want to follow. I want to be different, I want to change again for them…

2013: I changed, I know I have. Yet why can I still not appreciate the path I have chosen for this mountain?  I thought that if I had changed, I could be better, I thought that I could find what was up there, beyond the clouds on the mountain of my choice. What was the point of this change if I could not find what exist up there? If I could not find the goal I was looking for? If I was never good enough to reach the top, never good enough to change this mountain, why did I even start? I wanted to change, I wanted to be better, but what was the point….

2014: “One more round”….that was all I could hear. I thought mountain took away my heart, mind, and soul, yet there is still a voice that rings “one more round”. I still can not see the summit, what lies beyond the clouds, but that does not concern me. I learned that what lies beyond the clouds are the things you bring, the values that helped you reach to the top. I learned that this mountain does not bend to the will of anyone. I can choose what I bring, I can choose who I am, but this mountain that I climb only submits to the flow of time. I do not know how long this trial will take in order to reach to the top, but I know I will get there with one more round. One more round, to enter what lies beyond the clouds.

 

 

 

“Veronica, you have to be faster than that.”

“Veronica, that coach said you looked better last year.”

“Veronica, why are you so slow, it’s not that hard. Try being more like her.”

Now, you can take what I’ve just said and think nothing of it. Most people would just think it is a weird way to encouragement someone. However, when you consistently hear things like this, it takes a huge toll. You dedicate your life to something, expecting it to benefit you mentally, emotionally, and physically, and more importantly, to benefit your life for the future. I am tired of being told I can’t do something. I am tired of being compared to another person.  And most importantly, I am tired of being called “big.” When people say these things to me, I dwell on it and usually stay up most of the night crying. I ask myself if I am just being too sensitive, but than again who else gets to hear this every day? I recently found a way to focus my anger and depression on something else. It is called motivation. I am motivated to improve myself for the better. In life, you have to accept what you can’t change, and change what you can’t accept. I cannot wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces when I come back in August a different person. I will make them regret what they have said.

 

The most important rule in your life is to never let anyone diminish your dreams and tell you that you aren’t capable of doing something. They are wrong.

By: Veronica Ganzi

How I See Myself – Veronica Ganzi

Tafannum Rahman

March 11, 2014

The Life of Taf’s Face

Oh my goodness. Here she goes.

I swear it’s the same shit everyday.

I love the feeling of the bristles of the mineral powder brush against me but like hello, do you hate how I look that much that you have to alter it’s color and appearance!? Next comes the concealer. Girl you need to conceal your bag of makeup and put it away because I think I’m beautiful naturally. Ouch. Easy. Can you lightly dab and not press so hard under the eyes to evenly spread out the concealer? MAYBE IF YOU GOT MORE SLEEP YOU WOULDN’T NEED TO COVER THESE UGLY BAGS. Oh boy. Here comes that nasty sticky stuff. What do you call it? Oh yeah, primer. I hate how sticky that shit feels and by the way, Taf, that smudge brush you use to apply the primer on me is harder than your nipples when you’re cold. I have to say I love the way those eyeshadow brushes you use on me feel though. But don’t you think you put a little too much? You put like three different fucking eyeshadow colors on me that all look the same. Talking about “blending different colors to make it look pretty.” I swear I wish I was a guy. A guy would treat me better. Are all girls this unappreciative of their natural beauty? Anyways, my favorite brush is the blush brush. It feels as soft as a baby’s ass. Just put blush all over me all day and I won’t mind Taf. Or is it just to apply on the cheeks? Aren’t you supposed to turn red naturally when someone makes you blush? Oh. So you girls pretend like you’re blushing but in reality it’s just all that blush you put on? How fake. Hm. THE WORST PART OF IT ALL IS WHEN YOU PUT THAT DAMN THING ON MY EYELASHES. What is that shit? Do you know how hard it is to not flutter my eyes every five seconds? And god forbid you get it anywhere on me besides the eyelashes and you start dabbing the shit out of me. Mascara I think it’s called? Yeah. Those need to like, be extinct. Why do you need long eyelashes? What’s wrong with the ones you have now? You girls are so extra. I hope one day you wake up and you have no eyelashes left. Oh and quit stretching the area under my eyes just to put on eyeliner, seriously Tafannum. Lipstick. I don’t even know where to begin with lipstick. CAN YOU JUST LEAVE THEM NATURALLY PINK? I hate the way lipstick smells Taf! Your boyfriend is not going to want to kiss you with that nasty shit you put on your lips. And I swear you have one hundred different red lipsticks that all look the same. It’s red. Who cares what hue or how vibrant it is? The lipstick is fucking red. One red lipstick is enough. Why do you need all those different shades? Buy a fucking book with that money you would spend on all that Mas lipstick. Or wait, is it called Mac? I don’t know what it’s called. Stop putting me through all that nonsense and pain and unnecessary torture every single damn morning. Just put a little lotion on me every morning to moisturize meand call it a day. I swear if you keep putting make up on me, I will make sure you wake up the next morning with seventy two pimples. Think twice now. Taf.

Everyone struggles to find where they fit in. During my freshman year in highschool I strived to become a part of what I thought was the popular click. It actually wasn’t that difficult to get into the group because I had a few friends from grade school who were already in it. The so called popular kids though, were a bunch of bullies. They would tease and make fun of other kids just because they weren’t like us. Of course me wanting to fit in so much, gave in to peer pressure and made fun of those kids who never did anything to me. I did this all so I could say that I was part of the popular kids and sit with them during lunch. I didn’t really have anything in common with the popular kids, but I just wanted a place to fit in.

It wasn’t until I had classes with the kids that I would make fun of that I realized, they were actually the best people you could ever meet. I could actually be myself around them and they accepted me for everything I was. I regretted wasting a year with people who  thought bringing others down was a way to have fun, and especially for making fun of  people I can honestly call my best friends today. Ever since that first year in highschool I made sure to just be myself because being someone you’re not just leaves you with a feeling of hollowness. I also learned that people will like you more if you just be yourself. I’ve carried this mindset with me for a while now and I have no regrets about it. I can be honest with myself and others, and it gives me a good feeling knowing that I can be myself. If I could give one piece of advice to everybody it would be, to be yourself, the other pieces of the puzzle fit easier after that.

Oh and here’s an image that describes how I see myself:

How i see myself. A drawing my friend made of me.

We all have someone in our family who we most admire. From my perspective these people are essential for us as we have somebody to mirror ourselves.
In my case, the person I most esteem is certainly my father, whose life story inspires me and even helps me to have a better life.
He was born in Morocco 71 years ago and when he was 9 years old his parents decided move to Israel. they were very poor and at age of 11 he had to leave his home because he has 7 siblings and only 1 room to live at. He was growing up on the street with no money for food or clothes but with a big dream to became successful man. make long story short after 20 years at age of 30 he was in the top 100 richest mens in Israel. and I admire him for this ( of curse that for lot’s of other reasons).  I think that everyone have dreams but there are few people in the world strong enough to fight for them. Surely, my father is one of this people. Courage, determination and overrun are the traces of his strong personality that I most prize.He is also smart and extremely confident. It is always a pleasure to hear his life experiences. I’m looking to follow in his footsteps so that I can be a better person and guarantee a successful future for me.

This is gonna get a little graphic. 18 and over only.

My name is Elizabette. I am a feminist. Well, I’m a bit of a mild feminist, not as extreme as others. I do believe that women can do whatever the f*** they want. We can f*** whoever we want, We can wear whatever we want, We can say whatever we want, and I dont believe that we should be called any less of a women for doing so. A women who makes herself happy and provides for her family can pretty much do whatever she wants. I met a lady the other day, she is tall, beautiful, bright white teeth and long blonde hair. She had a loud italian strong brooklyn voice that asserted whatever the content was that was coming out her house. What she wore reflected her 6 figure salary. She was in her second marriage, 4 children, and said to me ” I can comfortable take care of my family on my own.” I admire her. Any women who’s achieved that status is commendable. Even more so than a man who makes the same amount in salary. He doesnt have kids to feed or load to wash. He doesn’t wear 6 inch heels for hours at a time and look absolutely effortlessly flawless while working. A women who doesnt exploit herself and can sit on the same round table as a president. BE the president. She is the real king. She is the new man.

One day, I will be that woman that every little girl that lays her beady little eyes on me will look up to and hope that they will grow up and be a fraction of who I am.