#draft2016

I dont enjoy asking people for things. If a closed mouth don’t get fed, i’ve been starving all my life. I can’t even tell you why. Pride? A desire to feel independent? As proof to myself that I am capable? All of the above? Today, there is no space for any of it. I have to call the last person I ever want to ask anything of. The person who had always been there for me in the past.

“Hey mom. How you doin?” I ask. I can hear rustling as she shifts positions. “Hey ‘Bias. I’m good. How are you?” she answered happily “Is that Tobias? Where you been? I thought you moved to Africa or something!” I hear my dad say. He’s joking because they both know how much I dream to see to see the world. I chuckle a little, completely understanding where he’s coming from. I rarely reach out to people. Not because I don’t enjoy talking to them. Simply because I don’t enjoy talking.

We’ve been catching up for a few minutes now. I’m basically uh huh-ing and yeahing throughout our conversation. On the inside, I’m anxiously trying to muster up the courage to let my parents know I need help. Stepping so far out of my character is a process, and judging by the sweat flowing from my pores, not an easy one. My throat feels dry. My heart is beating faster than normal. My palms are sweating. I’m so fucking nervous.

I finally conquer my anxiety, and explain my situation to my parents. I ask them can they help me to rent a hotel room. Honestly, I dont mind even living out of a car for a week. It’s not ideal, nor desirable, but i’ll do that shit. “Ok. Well, find a cheap room and we’ll see what we can do,”my mom responds. Perfect! “Why don’t you call your Uncle? Stay over there a few days,” my dad adds. “Oh yeah, I can do that,” I lie, knowing good and god damn well i wasn’t going to call my uncle. Why the fuck would you say that shit to me? You know that calling you was a last resort. What would make you think that calling my uncle was an option?? I haven’t even talked to him since the Christmas party at his house.. My immediate reaction is anger. Per usual, my anger is confined to my mind. “Ok. I’ll see what I can find…

“That’s a good job bruh. I hope you get it!” A plethora of conversations happening in what seems like such a short span of time. That was my Uber driver congratulating me for the interview with the Post Office that he is taking me to. The interview ends up being administered by an older dark complected filipino man named Rodrigo. He comes off… Dry. Stagnant. Unimpressed. I’m answering all of his questions, emphasizing my employment history with Bank of America, and my management experience with Walmart. Still my gut feeling tells me that my chances of getting this job are slim. As a black man, I always have to consider rather or not my skin color has any influence on the decision. I wonder if white dudes ever have to consider that someone will not hire them simply based on the color of their skin. I wonder what it’s like for my skin color to never be a factor.. What is it like to not even be conscious of my skin color when I walk into a room. Despite the racial undertones that follow me throughout life, I am giving my best in this interview. The real question I have to ask myself is, is it really my gut, or my dissappointment in myself casting a shadow of self-doubt?

Another Uber ride later and I’m home, with a pipe in my mouth, inhaling a sense a solice. Exhaling the anxiety that my circumstances breed. With so much to be done, I don’t have time to sit and enjoy my relaxing ritual. I put myself in the zone, throwing on my white and red Beats headphones. Before I know it, I am lost, surfing the sound waves. Music is one thing that always puts me in a better state of mind. A better state of being. A faster perception of time. Cleaning. Packing. Organizing. Reminiscing. Remembering when I drew in the sketchbook that i’m packing away. Remembering when i tried sewing as I throw away the ugliest unfinished blazer. So many memories of times when I used to be someone.

I woke up this morning, trying to motivate myself. Trying to get that fire within me burning. Trying to get up and get things done. So much to do, so much I wish wasn’t happening.

From a job interview, to moving out of my apartment, and having to find someone to come and tow my car away. If you’re keeping up, yes, that means that today I am jobless, homeless, and car-less. All of the necessities that I considered basic in life are being pulled from underneath me. So quickly. So swiftly. So suddenly. I feel like i’m awakening to a reality that I have been fighting to avoid. Awakening to the question, can reality ever be avoided?

At this point, I can’t contemplate. I can’t sum up the time, or the mental capacity necessary to do so. All that I can conclude is:

There is no option, but to get up, get out, and get my shit back. That or be defeated by my circumstance.

I’m going to be posting somethings that are going on with me during this time in my life. Today is day one in a process that will hopefully result in me reaching my goals. I’ll keep updates in the chat, and throught the days i’ll be making new post. To keep them all organized, i’ll make sure to provide a link on every post.

I know y'all don’t read this type of shit anyway, but i’m going to write anyway. I don’t know what i’m hoping for out of it, but we’ll see what happens.

I’m thinking, I just might write it as a novel. We’ll see. For now, lets call it….