Atlanta, GA//Month: June (or July) 2005//Date: Hot Sunday Night//Location: Apache’ Cafe

I was an Apache’ Cafe Virgin. The innocence was written all over my face. Although the veil of consciousness had been removed

(realizing there’s more to life than tunes of snap-lean-rock)

my cherry of “baduizm” had not yet been popped.

Enter Stage Left: HAZIQ

{music plays softly in the background}

“I don’t remember the first time I heard Kweli/I don’t remember what I was doing/There were no remembered witnesses to my doings/But it seems like I’ve known him forever”

[everything man by talib kweli]

I am now in the fifth year of my Post-Consciousness Cherry Popping.

Haziq has taught me that holding cake and not being allowed to eat it is tomfoolery.

Rubbish.

He allows me to have my spoken word & hip hop wrapped neatly in a toasted wonton wrap that I can consume while rocking my Chuck Taylors instead of a dashiki with matching head wrap.

&I Love Him For That

He is my big brother.

We are: Urban Soul

Now Playing: “Freedom/Hussla” by Haziq

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