Thinking Out Loud

                I’m glad that I survived another summer without having a meltdown, even though I’ve had more than enough reason to. These days, I marvel at my tenacity and elasticity. It’s interesting how life events completely alter you, for better and for worse.  

A little nervous about declaring that I’m attempting to start the process of overcoming several temporary emotional upsets - especially when others have tried to use your very own words and experience against you, in attempts to break and discredit you. Because I know people, situations don’t want to see you prevail - to get better, it’s very important to watch what you say, when you say it and who you say it to. But we’ll talk about that later.

It’s a new day in time and nothing is sacred anymore. As I sat on the patio of The Abbey, Saturday night, I smoked a blunt full of reefer and thought to myself, “If this was 10 years ago, I would have gotten escorted out, and then arrested.” It was sort of liberating to experience – as I had been going to The Abbey since my 20’s, it was a dream fulfilled in a sense. There was many a night where there was a Patron Margarita in one hand and an imaginary blunt in the other, because it would have topped off the night perfectly. Now that a wish was fulfilled, I was ready to leave it all on the floor, including my intake of weed.

                I know that in life the tables always turn, for me, it was weird how weed is not only accepted; it’s somehow a strange, magical, instant bonding mechanism that brings people together – an icebreaker.  People no longer judge you for smoking a lil’ weed, it’s the equivalent of a martini in L.A., but what about 10 years ago, when I was being judged, talked about and left out of the social equation for smoking weed? All the friends that I lost because they looked at me as the pothead, not the cool friend who had edibles and blunts like the old church ladies with peppermints, they couldn’t look past it then, but it’s all they do now. How did that even happen? How did I not get labeled cool, or a trendsetter? I feel like I’ve been jacked, hoodwinked and gas-lit. It’s the same thing with being…gay.

                When I watched Insecure last night, the episode was titled, “High-like” and what stood out the most to me is when Kelli was high off an edible at the Coachella party, while looking around she was pointing out all of the guys she was attracted to. Then she included a woman, her next line was something along the effect of, “What? Janelle Monae made it okay to be gay.” That perpetuation will eventually, maybe trickle down to some popular, DL, presumed heterosexual Black man and make it cool or okay to be gay…Bi. Which makes me think, here we are 14 years after I released my initial book and we’re still having the same conversation.  Black and gay can’t even be in the same sentence, unless it’s fetishized between two women. Why are we still talking about any of this? I have grievances and questions.

                As time moves along and the scales of what is acceptable start sliding, what about the people who were criticized and bared the weight of being an outcast, especially people like me, who was persecuted for both offenses – only so repressed and professional hokey-pokey players could live without shame, judgement and being ostracized?

                 I need to release another book…and a few more podcasts. I have grievances and questions. Most importantly – someone has to speak to the experience, someone who has been in the throes of the experience and gonna be real about the experience. I’m tired of seeing fake ass bullshit permeate my life and control people into buying into some shit that’s not gonna assist them in being better.


Trent Jackson1 Comment