I think we all live for something, whether we get to that something and live with it, that’s the real challenge for some. I feel like that sometimes, like what I want is going to pass me by if I don’t get up and work. Maybe that’s a higher power telling me, hey, “you need to get up and work”. Smh. College has really set my vision all blurry and then refocused in onto something new. I felt turned upside down when I came to college, nothing made sense. My Ego told me I had my life figured out, and then life said, “I’m not yours to figure out”. I think that was a beautiful realization. I’m hoping part of my life’s mystery is involved in the art’s. I love art, and think maybe that’s one of my certainties. I love people, too. I love the combination of those two things, which is why I love working with people on films. I have a lot of art in mind for the future. I’m hoping I will be able to provide some of it to here, instagram, and YouTube. I want to just create this year, IDC if it’s rough around the edges. I just want these ideas that sit restlessly in my brain to finally have their voice for everyone to hear. I really hope everyone is well, I love you all.

-GS

Last night, and early into the morning, I had a rare experience with alcohol, sex, and people. My friend Jaxon brought me over to his friend’s house for a lil party, and I met many new faces (5). Thank you to the hosts! You were all hillllarious. I learned A LOT about sex, the host’s house was littered with genitalia, as shown below. I’d never seen a group of people so comfortable in talking about sex, and it was really cool. They were trolling tho, I think, and also drunk, but nevertheless, a very safe feeling experience and I hope to return to the dick and vagina house one day!

*Artwork by Margaret, a friend of the host. She told me these two pieces represent everyone’s sudden attraction to “what’s in your pants”. Upon looking at these two pieces, I agreed with her.*

01/17/2025

A POEM

big cars, big wheels,
loud diesel, engine,
drive far, no fear,
paint black, think that, your shit's cool,
decals, of fire flames, and bone skulls,
highway, this ain't a race,
this a town road
fly by, at night time, out control
controlled, by your vice, alcohol
can't seem, to steer straight,
swervin' on the road,
interior, of truck filled, with booming bass
bleeding ears,
wanna be loud, shit you made your case,
wanna be found, in a five mile radius,
city don't sleep till you sleep,
that's your mindspace

you ain't steering well,
burnin rubber on the concrete,
burnt rubber smell,
while you peel off,
from Hoover Street
keeping rubber mended well, never been,
a priority,
like when that rubber broke,
left her lone', with your baby

the truck that,
drove you away,
from parenting,
same one that honks at anything,
It's 3 in the morning bro,
you need to get some sleep,
rather blare your horn,
please, just notice me,
like when you blared, your voice,
at nurture and peace,
a mother tryna raise a baby boy,
not your priority,
take your truck,
and coast,
to an-oth-er city,
100 miles away, she cries and prays,
hoping that one day,
you'll come her way,
for the sake, of baby boy, his name is Joseph,
but the real baby boy, too childish, so you avoid him,
a void in your heart,
black as your truck's paint job

negligence from your parents,
hereditary,
feel the pain throb,
grab the throttle, and the bottle,
speed and non-engagement 
is what that truck, provides for you,
it's a way out.

alone in driver seat,
no time frame to meet,
no restaurants for eats,
coasting round' the city,
you lost in wedding ring,
the one you bought her, for $3,000,
she asked, do you love,
asked, would you be a father,
you lied, and told her yes,
your word's weight, ain't rest,
until, she took that test,
and came back pregnant,
you hopped, inside, your truck,
a baby, popped up in her,
Joseph, coated in your love,
you coated in, Metallic hues,
reflections from, interior mirrors,
you sped when you heard the news,
now it's 5, in the morning,
the sun, is slowly showing,
the orange glare, of a heat ball, that thing is glowing,
and 100 miles away,
another head is poking,
out from birthing process,
Joseph is finally born, but,
he, came out to early, heart not fully developed,
you hear the engine act up, hear the clang of metal,
the doctors rush Joseph, to another room,
your baby mama is sweat-coated, sitting without you

she just produced power, will power,
to get a kid out her alone,
while you speed down, highways, with horse power,
that truck is,
a mechanism, for avoidance, of your kid,
you should be with him,
your truck puffs, black smog,
with every gear shift,
killin life, oxygen, dirty smog spirit,
you told Rachael, your baby momma,
that you ain't feeling in,
suggest, abortion, her eyes had tears in em,
"you promised, you'd be ready,"
she show's her ring to you,
diamond reflection, just like the one on your rear view.

Speed back, to where we at,
doctor said, "Rachael, your son is dead",
he's not coming back,
her body, already drained, from pregnancy,
drained her heart, through a tank of tears,
on her white sheets,
you drain, your dick, for lust,
were never in it for love,
she gave you her trust,
now she's crying feeling alone,
a piece of her, just died with him,
your son, laid lifeless,
down the hall, on a table cloth.

that truck, easy way out,
don't speak, it's only vows,
to take you, were you want,
leaving momma or scenic routes,
but karma, is a bitch,
you bout, to find out,
the engine, acting more funny,
a breakdown is imminent,
when you get, that call from mommy,
saying, retire that label,
"now, I'm just Rachael,
I just went through,
the most painful,
experience of my life,
more painful, than seeing, my momma die at bedside,

more painful, than the collections, of nights, spent hiding,
afraid, daddy gonna beat me,
blamed me for why momma died,"
Rachael said, as she cried,
and on the other side, you just sit,
eyes wide, mouth open,
"he's gone, Danny, we lost our little Joseph"
at that moment, you lost control of,
the wheel, truck broke down, tears flowing,
like oceans.

that truck is you,
embodiment of your emotions,
outside hard, black and printed,
diesel truck, massive engine,
you play the part,
cold as your rims,
the interior, of your truck is filled,
with bass and tears, and alcohol,
you left your family all alone,
you left your girl,
her world is gone,
if only you hadn't,
keyed ignition and sped away.

Today was very full, I felt all around the place, in a good way. In a way that isn’t mental, I was physically at Piets hill (where we went sledding), the ER, and Rice’s. An odd collection of locations, that’s what happens when you got a lot of people. Veni took us to the ER when he dislocated his shoulder, Charlotte, Willem’s girlfriend, took us to Rice’s for dinner per her friend’s recommendation. This was a energetic day, and because of that, I am tired and no longer want to type, goodnight.

Dis MF is dressed to hunt!

Big love to everyone in the picture! this was such a chaotic experience, I felt like a kid unbound by any restraints, just me and the sled.

From left to right: Veni, Jaxson, Me, Willem, Charlotte, Quinn, Ainsley, Mia (sorry if I spelled your name wrong).

PICKLE BARREL!! I mess with the cheese steak, never fails to satisfy my hunger, and I was HUNGRY today.

Top: After Sled Hill

Bottom: Before Sled Hill

01/18/2025

Happy MLK day everyone! Today, for me, is going to consist of finally snagging a washer and doing some much needed laundry. Except for that, I feel a very chill day coming on, it’s currently 9 AM.

A. serious urge to type about something entered my body. But, what should I type about? Outside of being an amazing blogger I am many other things. I am an artist at my core, art is my thing. But I don’t think we were put on this earth to label ourselves and have that label be us. At my core, I’m a human. And I do human things, like eat, drink, and sleep. We all follow that pattern together, or we die. But outside of that, there’s so much time to be yourself. For me, being myself can be hard. I definitely fear judgement. I think that roots from social media insecurities that I picked up as a kid. But I think living as yourself is essential to living. Living as something you’re not is draining and unproductive. You came in this world as you, and despite what people tell you, or even what you tell you, you should go out of this world as you, too.

But that’s not to say “you” are bad either. (you refers to I, directly addressing myself is uncomfortable.) Part of being “you” is being bad, and part of the good of “you” is working to rid that badness out of your body and away from anything for it to infect. being “bad” to me is a very broad term that addresses a state of being that makes yourself or others feel worse. Sometimes making people feel bad is essential to helping them be good, so making someone feel bad (getting mad at them for saying a slur) isn’t included in what real “bad” does to people. We all suffer from something, whether we suffer in silence or with community can be a deciding factor for how long we suffer. I think we all are unified through feeling, feeling bad for drinking, feeling good for being sober, we’ve all felt. I’ve felt awful at times for things I did, that’s my “bad”. But to not exist in that world of addiction, or anger, or hatred is hard for me. It’s hard because it happened, and despite how much I want to live in the present, it happened, and it affected something. But to say to yourself, and believe that, “I’m not this, right now I am this.” That is the great escape. We will always be challenged through all sorts of mediums; people, ourselves, those are the main two. Acceptance and realization are a key part in the battle with our “badness”. To accept that there will always be something unbalanced in you and realize that not everything will be figured out today means that you no longer have to fix everything today. Because by being a human, you will probably experience something that throws you out of balance tomorrow, and the day after. Take today to make a minuscule adjustment to yourself, and believe it, that’s the key.

Some music, goodnight everyone.

01/20/2025

PODCAST UP!!

visit “Smooberz” on YouTube to see what da deal is

01/21/2025

I LOVE MY MOM! How can someone be like her, seriously? I always had a feeling towards my mom, and it was hard to put into words, so I always wondered if my mom felt loved the way I loved her. I’m starting to find the words, but they just don’t do it. Mom, there is a feeling in me that probably won’t ever be written down or spoken into words because it can’t be. The love I feel for you isn’t dwindling, and that’s crazy because it was already unexplainable from the beginning. Thank you thank you thank you for giving me the experience I’ve had in life so far, and I just, love you.

Last night, I was not feeling myself. I blamed it on me and others, but to be honest, the real enemy is time. I haven’t lived enough to have myself all figured out, looking back on each year, I see myself growing, but the insistent need to “grow” never clocks out. I felt like I was moving backwards, into anger, into insecurity. And I KNOW that I’m not here to be bad, but I felt like I was losing the battle of myself to the part of myself that is angry and scared. I want to be good, but I also am scared. I’m scared of how people will see me if I am myself, so I hid in a cocoon of anger and falsehoods. So that’s how I felt last night, like I was being someone else who was angrier and meaner to just appeal to, I don’t even know. I returned to my dorm and called my mom, I really just wanted to tell someone I cared about them because that feels aligned with the real me. But I couldn’t bring myself to be honest, even to my mom.

I wasn’t trying to mask my feelings of exhaustion and fraudulence, and my mom knew that. she repeatedly asked what was wrong, and of course, I said nothing. I’d never come to my mom as my go to person because she seemed so busy and stressed all the time, and she didn’t seem like the kind of person to be vulnerable. But, despite still worrying about almost everything, my mom is learning to not hold things in. I think that is what brought me closer, a common desire to better ourselves. Well, I cried to her, for the first time ever. I took the phone from my sweat coated cheek and gently rested it on my knee, I didn’t want my mom to know I was crying. But I was, and I guess I wasn’t weeping quiet enough because I heard her through the phone, I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she was talking. After sitting in my dorm room and weeping as quiet as I could for about 5 minutes, I returned the phone to my ear, and I then I was ready to be more me than I had in a while. That cry did something, It released something, it released the judgement. I opened up to my mom last night, it was real. My mom brought me out of mind, caused my to cry, and set my mind into a better place than it had been, all in the span of a 2 hour phone call. So thank you mom for making me cry. Making me laugh. I’m bewildered by how someone can be like you, but I guess all I have to do is ask, I love you mom.

Wudu

Mashalloah

01/30/2025