In the green room...kissing Liza

Hey you. Welcome back. I know it's been a while since I have written and there is so much to catch up on. But I thought I'd go backwards in time a little, expose some real truths and nasty confessions of my sometimes insane perspective that leads to insane actions. These experiences directly influence my music. I destroy and then create. I get fucked up then I fuck it up on the mic. I take these real life moments and turn it into art. This is a story, an actual journal entry rant that I turned into a song after being up for more than 24 hours. As it is with artistry, I started to rework some of the craziness so you could understand what I'm talking about. But the guts and glory of it stayed the same. Kissing liza was written like a thousand times in my notebook. Over and over again, the image, blasting my brain, burning it like a cigarette on my thigh.

I actually did that once. I was high on mushrooms sitting on the toilet, felt like I was in an elevator going down, down, down. I wanted to see how long I could take the pain, the burn of the ash going into my flesh. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Left me with a little button sized scar.

Summer 2007. I was having my quarter life crisis and partying a lot. House parties at Shelter. Coney island with dope DJs like Kamala Jefferson and great dancers like Sybarite crew and my boy Ant, and artists like Concept and dear friends like Jess and Hosanna. Wasn't a very productive summer on the career front. I guess I've always battled between the life of an artist, just living art, everyday in freedom and adventure, creating but not headed towards a goal, just BEING and then there's the life of the business of art which brings the art to a larger scale but can drain the expression. Finding a balance is what I'm looking for. 

So one crazy summer night I link with, hmmm well, what should I call him, Prospect, I will call hin Prospect, hah, we used that term in college. I link with Prospect on his birthday. We had been spending time together. A borderline, are we friends just kicking it or is there some real chemistry popping off here?

So I meet him for his bday, we go to a spot, which will remain nameless cus it could get me into trouble. There we meet a bunch of his friends, some of them mutual. The liquor is flowing, I've already had at least 4 and I'm on my 5th. Hoping the drunker we get, the closer we get to each other, in more ways than 1.

Which is so retarded, actually reminds me of like a sleazy guy trying to push up on a girl, get her drunk and vulnerable and take advantage of her. I do sometimes feel like a man's sex drive and mating techniques are trapped inside my psyche. Like I'm the one on the pursuit, I'm the one who makes the move. Maybe cus most of the guys are pussy footing round the pussy. HA

This is definitely a naughty blog today.

SO all seems fair in love and whiskey. Until Liza walks in the door. And their chemistry and eye contact is obvious and annoying as hell. He then becomes the sleazy guy encouraging her to drink more and more champagne. She fights him, then succumbs to his sweet face but silly accent. And soon enough they are slow dancing on the dance floor and KISSING!!!

And me being the slightly, not matured emotionally in intimate relationships since I was 12, rushes off to the bathroom in a huff and puff. Thinking back now, I wish I could've shook myself in the mirror and made me look at how beautiful and sexy and amazing I am and that it was all good and that Prospect wasn't right for me ANYWAY. HA

But the higher voice wasn't there in that moment. Only the rageful jealous maniac who had too much to drink. 

I rushed out of the bathroom with intentions of just leaving the bar and not looking back. But instead the whiskey and emotion dragged my hands to both their heads and knocked them so aggressively they might've come off if I had one more shot. And THEN I walked out and proceeded to act like nothing had happened.  Eventually I made peace with them both and even remained good friends with the Prospect. Below is the song I wrote after that crazy night. Enjoy and if there is any lesson learned from this. I'd say its what they told you when you were a kid, 

"Keep your hands to yourself."

Kissing Liza by the dj booth
Kissing Liza in the middle of the room
Kissing Liza under the full moon
When you you shoulda been kissing me

Kissing Liza on a Friday night
Kissing Liza all up in my light
Kissing Liza got me ready to fight
Cus you, you shoulda been kissing me
Yeah you, you shoulda been kissing me

And I’m in the bathroom crying my eyes out
Broke the garbage can and a glass or two
Almost broke the mirror but not with my hand
But with the look of a woman that no one understands no

Kissing Liza up against the wall
Kissing Liza now I’m two foot small
Kissing Liza and I’m going AWOL
Cus you, you should’ve been kissing me
Yea you, you should’ve been kissing me

Whispering in her ear and pouring champagne down her lips
Makes me sick watching you caress her fake tits
Its sweet now, but 6th sense predicts
You’re gonna realize that Liza ain’t shit
No I’m gonna realize that you ain’t shit
No I'm gonna realize this was all one of my stupid tricks

Kissing Liza now the parties begun
Kissing Liza well isn’t this fun
Kissing Liza if I only had a gun
Then you, you woulda been kissing me
Yea, you you woulda been kissing me
Hitting Liza in the back of the head
Don’t do nobody good
But I hit Liza in the back of the head
Cus you you shoulda been kissing me