I Got So Much Funky Shit Inside My Brain

I Got So Much Funky Shit Inside My Brain,
I Couldn't Explain, Couldn't Explain

You Probably Wouldn’t Understand, I Couldn't Explain.
- Jungle Brothers 1994

Chillin’ in my office in the crib on the Fourth of July tryna take advantage of the day to clean up and organize things. So I could get in the mood, I turn on Direct TV to the XM Radio channels. They got this one channel called, ‘The Rhyme’ where they play all kinds of old school hip-hop 24 hours a day. Nothing against the commercial radio but I’m not only old school at noon so I needed to hear some good ol’ hip hop, today while I cleaned up.

I also made up my mind, that today I’m gonna start writing a little something everyday. I really haven't been writing at all the last few months or so, and I have so much stuff in my head, it feels like it gonna explode sometimes if I don’t get it out. It gets to a point where no one seems to comprehend me when I try to verbally express myself which frustrates the hell of out me. So you don’t say anything and just keep it in, which my doctor just informed me was no good for my health but that’s another story.

Anyway I open a new document in Microsoft Word and stare at the blinking curser and nuthin’ is comin’ out like the last dozen or so times. I get sidetracked and end up playing my Aces and Kings, a variation of Solitaire, the perferred form of procrastination of the day. I basically was ready to except I tried and nothing came out again as an excuse when all of a sudden the words, “I Got So Much Funky Shit Inside My Brian, I Couldn't Explain, Couldn't Explain. You Probably Wouldn’t Understand, I Couldn't Explain," comes out of my surround speakers of my TV.

The words are from an old Jungle Brothers joint titled "Brain," that came out in 1994. It wasn’t one of their most popular joints but it totally fit the situation. I'm kinda just staring at the TV like damn. While I can relate with the lyrics of alot of joints, this just seem to fit my current situation and came in like the background of a movie they play to explain to the viewer what's going on in the characters mind. The words repeat again.

Then Mike G kicks the first verse off with, "Explanation of the funk essential trapped in my brain, Couldn't do it, make me wonder how a world maintain..." and before I realize it, my fingers started dancing across the keyboard of my laptop. Wasn’t like I was particularly writing anything of any importance to anyone else, but it didn’t matter cause I was writing again and it was like my version of waiting to exhale, finally I can breath again and it felt oh so good, to just exhale.

I have madd stories inside my head, when I don't get them out the just continue to build and build. Sometimes its like goin' thru all 350 plus channels, one after the other and not being able to find anything to watch. It starts to get all jumbled up and become one big blur. That's how my thoughts and ideas get when I can't get it out til it feels like my head is going to explode. So to merely say I need to write is an understatement. It's way beyond something I extremely enjoy. It's beyond people feeling what I write. It's downright therapeutic and basically what I need to do just to hold on to my sanity.

I don’t know if any of you out there can’t relate, but that’s why instead of tryna expain it anymore, I'm writing this entry in my journal. Some will eventually feel what Im saying and some never will, but as long as I get it out it doesnt matter if anyone sees it or even feels it. I have been like that since I was a child. My mom would put me on punishment and send me to my room and I would write, read and draw. How do you punish a kid who is reading and writing, tell him to stop? Eventually my mom would get frustrated with me and tell me to go outside and play.

It's funny how music can take you back to a moment in time, remind you where you were, who you were with and what you were doing when the song came out. It also can just open up an array of emotions and for me thanx to the Subsonic Radio show on XM Radio and The Jungle Brothers, my current writers block is broken and now the words are just pouring out. I Got So Much Funky Shit Inside My Brain, its about time I write it down and get it out.

With that said I'm just gonna end with Afrika's verse cause it sums up what I have been feeling!

Cut you short and escort you to my innermost thoughts

Dreams of fighting for my freedom in the most high courts

But jump shots get blocked and dreams get shatterred

and when the day turns night, souls get bruised and batterred.

Cheap labor for a favor from your cotton picking neighbor,

Got to work your ass off just to show you got flavor,

Life savers won't help you when your breaking your back

And Uncle Sam keep talking about rasing his tax

I look at heaven and see myself rolling in seven or eleven

So I can recoup this suit that I'm spending

Pray to god with divine intervention all my life

Repent for my sins because I don't want strife

Release from contracts to make new contacts

The game gets played but still remains the facts

That I got to wake up and see the brood of charades

'Cause I'm still living in the modern age slave trade

Rapping on holy water, Looking for divine order

Life goes on, but still the rhyme gets shorter

Seal my fate, there's no escape But still I'm straight,

I'm back on track, shaking off the dead weight

The time has come, for me to free my soul

Grab hold of my heart and take full control

'Cause no matter what happens when times get hard,

I still stand my ground and use the force of God

Peace, Im Out

See ya real, real soon

Da Aye