I met Colt Cabana after the CHIKARA show at The Highline Ballroom today. What a nice guy (which doesn’t surprise me).
Musiq - Halfcrazy
Going through this shit right now.
/emorant
She’s a keeper.

I need this right now. I just need to go underground far away from all the bullshit. The subway is one of the places I feel that New Yorkers can go to clear their minds, even if it is for a brief amount of time. As soon as you descend down those steps, you lose connection to the real world. Your phone has no service, your family or friends can’t reach you, you’re just by yourself in an underground world where nobody knows you. You can’t force the train to come any faster or speed up to where you need to go, so you just calm yourself to let it all flow on its own. You stand there on the platform thinking about certain things that are going on in your life. You zone out into the tracks and watch a rat scurrying down the rails to safely get its food back through a little crack below the platform. You wonder about all the different people that are standing there with you on the platform, and the thoughts that are going through their heads. You realize that you’re not the only one going through tough times. You look at every single face on that platform and notice that there is not one person who seems content with their lives. Everyone is in their own little world transfixed on the ground in deep thought. The train arrives and you step in to find yourself a seat. Stand clear of the closing doors, please. The last few people squeeze in through the doors as they let out a sigh of relief. Once seated, you look around at all the different faces surrounding you. Directly across from you is an elder black male whom, from the look of all the wrinkles on his forehead, seems to have been through a lot in his life. The signs of sorrow and pain are etched all over his face. You can’t help but feel some compassion for the man. Beside him, standing by the doors, is a young Hispanic kid with a Yankee fitted on just bopping his head to some music. The world around him is put on mute. He’s oblivious to all the whispers and sounds that the train is making. Every time he bops his head up, you get a quick glimpse of his eyes. He seems focused and well in tune with himself. Not a care in the world. Just him and his music. A few seats away from him, you see a beautiful young lady whose eyes are caught on the floor in the empty space between her feet. She seems hurt. Her eyes are puffy from tears that ran down her face not too long ago. She’s still sniffling away very subtly trying not to attract any attention towards her. Every time the train makes a loud noise, you notice her take advantage as she pulls in hard through her nose, hoping the train’s noise drowned her sniffles. She’s not fooling anyone. Beside you, sits a little boy who can’t be more than 6 years old. His face is lit up as the lights inside the train is reflected off of his over-sized glasses. You know the type… thick lenses which make their eyes look huge, but it’s adorable in a way. He’s swaying side to side, dangling his feet while holding on to his mother’s arm, and humming. He takes a quick look at you and you can’t help but smile at his innocent little face. His mother seems overwhelmed, probably from work and a lack of sleep the previous night. She’s a single mother stressing about how she’s going to pay this month’s bills in this expensive city….. Oh, right. The city. The train arrives at your stop, and you’re completely lost as to where the time went. It was probably all the little observations you were making that made it seem like such a short ride. You get up and give the little kid that was sitting beside you a rub on the head. You step back onto the platform and just stop in the middle. You let all the people walk around you as a blur, and you look up and think for a second…. You’re in New York fucking City. The city where dreams are made, and then shattered to only make way for new ones. There are mad people in this crowded ass city. Everyone is struggling to make a living, and barely getting by with what they have. Psh. Think about it. People only dream to visit this place, and here you are calling it your home. Your mother fucking birthplace. Put a smile on that face and walk out that station like not a damn thing is wrong. There are people out there that are struggling to even put a pair of sneakers on their feet. The fuck are you so worried about? You got this, Tanim. You’re blessed with the life you have. Walk back up those steps and cherish every moment you get. You got this.
(via gamerecognisegame)
I do sell this at my t-shirt site, and it is appropriate for some today. I’m just saying…
Okay, so this made my fucking night!
GPOY
I celebrated my birthday last month, and this was a part of the invite that I created and sent out. It’s a tribute to one of my all-time favorite albums, “Midnight Marauders” by A Tribe Called Quest.
…I’m certainly not getting out of my bed to go to a bodega right now.
"I like to watch everybody gravitate towards you. Your magnetic presence make them all come through. The same way you got them, you got me too."
Q-Tip - “Gettin’ Up.”
This is how I’m feeling about her right now.
Beats that I love, my t-shirts, and random things I see online.