Oh the places you’ll go and the adventures you’ll seek
The road to greatness is but a mighty feat
But I know you’ll make it, and you’ll fight the rain
Frying bigger fish, I know you’ll fight for change
The future is unknown and the past is lost
Memories unearthed at half the cost
People you knew, like trash they’re tossed
You should’ve remembered the ones you lost
The following is a quote from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.”
I was greatly inspired by this and decided to follow this up using what I understood from this text and my own experiences with solitude.
The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly. To stare blankly is to acknowledge their failures and the embracement of true solitude. To stare blankly is to fall into the depths of darkness. To stare blankly is to embrace morality. To stare blankly is to be human once more. To become submerged in the depths of reality. The feeling of loneliness only shows us that we are controlled by our emotions. That we are blinded by our emotions. We realize that we have become something other than ourselves only when it matters the least. Because of this, we suffer.
I am in the middle of a forest during autumn. In this forest the trees are tall and the colors of the leaves vary from green to yellow to orange or… nothing at all. The sound of the leaves beneath me, as dark as stained oak, crunch with my every step. As I take a deep breath, I smell a peculiar warmth in the air that compliments the environment around me. I look around and I find myself surrounded by trees, all which have been touched by autumn. There is a small hill to my left made up of soil with small grass hairs popping out. i hear the sound of birds calling out in the distance. I feel the total isolation as I look back and see no clear path from which I came from. The bark of the trees are a white birch. The sun shines through the cracks between the leaves above me.
I see a brown grizzly bear and I immediately freeze, anxious to see what the bear has in mind. It is a fair distance away, however I run back to the hill of dirt to my left as a precaution. I stay there, taking quick glances at the bear ahead of me. The bear does not see me.
I find a key on the ground. The key looks like the key for my uncle’s room/ where I stayed in Pakistan. I examine the key. It is a bronze color. It is in good condition as well. It feels a little rough from the edges but nothing too short from unscathed. I instinctively put it in my pocket. I notice that the sun has gone down as I do not see the thin rays of light coming down through the spaces between the leaves. it seems rather cloudy. The sound of birds become more faint but are still discernible.
Off in the distance I see something shining. Water. As I come closer I see a small stream of clear water flowing in 3 different directions. One towards myself, one to my right, and one going straight ahead. It is carrying the many fallen yellow and red leaves on the ground from the trees around me, however the leaves are all drifting in the direction coming towards me. The stream runs down towards my right foot and the leaves along with it, piling on top of one another at the tip of my shoe.
I suddenly see a white styrofoam cup sitting with the bottom up. I think nothing of the cup, however I am starting to wonder where these objects of interests have come from. I pick it up and look inside. It is a small hole driven through the bottom of the cup. I put it back exactly where I found it, on the ground with the bottom up.
All of a sudden I see a light. With my curiosity taking over, I decide to follow it. As I walk towards the light, I end up outside of the forest with my gazed locked upon a vast field of grass. There are no trees. No sound. No birds. No breeze. I start to feel lighter. In the sky, I see many clouds and a light blue sky. The grass, however, is moving ever so slightly as if the wind was blowing against it. But there is nothing. The sky and clouds were static. The rolling grass was illogical. As far as I could see, there was no end to this grassy flatland. I felt as if I was in a box where windows were my keepers.
In the corner of my eye I see a house or building type structure. The walls of this building were a sleek navy blue and were in the shape of a jagged crown. Their appears to be no windows or doors. As I examine this building closer, I notice it is made up of tiles. It feels fresh glass. There are no distinct smells or sounds…
As I look further, there is a grey door that appears to be an entrance. Curiosity must not get the best of me so I must stay strong. Or am I just stubborn? Either way I will not enter.
In school, there was a boy who hated what he saw.
Was it the atmosphere? The ambience? maybe it was the call
of teachers telling him he wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t good enough.
Yet this boy stayed, no he didn’t depart.
He took it to heart and spent the rest of the day in shame.
The boy cursed her name on the way back home until there were no more steps to take or dreams to break.
And I say dreams because this boy had dreams, oh he had some big dreams.
In fact, this boy daydreamed constantly.
Pouring all his passion, love, and thought into fantasies that may or may not become a reality.
But It was an escape from the solitary environment where he couldn’t create.
The next day he returns to school, hoping he learns the tools to be what he wanted.
He was taunted with worksheet after worksheet,
dozens of questions.
He hated it all, whether it was review or lessons.
“Why does he live this way?”
“Why does he live at all?”
These are what his teachers say to him on a daily basis.
Because they don’t understand the dreams this boy dreamt
They don’t understand the competition this boy carried
They don’t understand the future he fights for
They don’t understand the salvation he sought
They don’t understand.
His life was a mess
All he wanted was to turn it around instead of turning it off because he knew he was worth more than a blade cutting into his soft skin or a noose wrapped around his throat.
His dreams were too big
Yet they were so small
This boy wanted to prove them all wrong, wanted to show the futility of the education he was held captive in.
His dreams were worth more than school
He wanted to show them that he had a place in this world
But…then why do people hate him for this?
Last night this boy had an epiphany.
One that rocked him to the very core of his existence
An exhilarating thrill shook up his spine and throughout his body.
Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.
Maybe his dreams were truly worth nothing
But these thoughts were not without reason
History has repeated itself over and over again
If each individual was destined to be great then why is there such a big disparity between people?
Why have we not yet achieved universal peace?
Why do we resent what we do not understand?
If you believe racial profiling is a thing of the past, then you probably don’t know who Treyvon Martin is
…
The world is a cruel place
Your dreams will be shattered and you will be lost
Years upon years of living an optimistic lifestyle has given this boy nothing but a false ray of hope beaming down upon him like was standing on the stage of tragedy
It was not the kind of spotlight he had in mind
However
He saw now
People hated him because he wanted to change these sayings
He would ruin the norm
He would be superior
This was the attitude that changed the world, generation after generation
Einstein, Walt Disney, Steve Jobs, Abraham Lincoln, Nelson Mandela, Thomas Edison, Marilyn Monroe have all had this attitude
This boy realized he was destined for greatness no matter what the crowd has to say and no matter where the spotlight lands
It is just a matter of time before each and every individual realizes this
Until then, let there be hate in this world
This was an epiphany this boy would never forget.
“The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it.
Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad city.
While consuming its environment, the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive.
One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but praises the butterfly.
The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar.
But having a harsh outlook on life, the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits.
Already surrounded by this mad city, the caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes him.
He can no longer see past his own thoughts.
He’s trapped.
When trapped inside these walls, certain ideas start to take roots, such as going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city.
The result?
Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant.
Finally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations that the caterpillar never considered, ending the eternal struggle.
Although the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different, they are one and the same.”
Mortal Man
To Pimp a Butterfly
To start off, this poem alone is part 1 of a larger idea that I plan to showcase on my blog. I do not think I have ever been as intrigued by something as beautiful and as eye opening as this piece. Words alone cannot piece together what this poem and the album itself mean to me and how my understanding of everyday life has changed because of it. The idea of “pimping” a butterfly was very interesting to me so I decided to do more research. After reading many descriptions about what “pimping” a butterfly meant, I came across this poem that was recited by Kendrick Lamar, the one who created the phrase “To Pimp a Butterfly”. Everything in the poem teaches us about our initial views on the world. When we enter this world we are trapped in a nightmare, consuming everything around us. We are nothing special. However once we see the upper class, the butterfly, we begin to feel resentment and jealousy. This resentment turns into energy. This energy fuels the passion to become the butterfly. To transform. Once this occurs we work hard, in other words we start working on the cocoon.
The cocoon represents school, media, or anything that contains the people, whatever institutionalizes them. The caterpillar is trapped in the cocoon. In other words the people are trapped by the system and any other struggle. Although you are caved in by the system’s demands, new ideas begin to form, inspired by the system. Inspired by the walls. These new ideas begin to expand and eventually become the seeds to a newfound life. To become something different. Because of this, wings begin to form and the caterpillar transforms into a more capable being. Without the system, without the struggles, without apartheid, police brutality, social inequality, there would be no new concepts and ideas to be explored. If there is no cocoon, there is no butterfly. The caterpillar,that was once an incompetent and futile existence, has been pimped to extraordinary new levels.
In other words, everyone has greatness within them. I feel this line exemplifies the fact that if every person positively used the system against itself, used the institutionalization as power for ideas and creativity, one could raise their consciousness to a level surpassing his/her environment. The fact that the caterpillar is the one being “pimped” instead of the butterfly, as the title of the album suggests, is intriguing. In my personal opinion I feel that the title: To Pimp a Butterfly is sarcastic in a way. Pimping a caterpillar represents being enlightened and to change for the better, To go from having nothing to having it all. Pimping a butterfly represents giving the rich/fortunate ones even more power and wisdom. I feel that Kendrick Lamar was poking fun at places that are run by a corrupt leader. Stealing from the poor and giving it to the rich, putting all financial pressure on the ones that do not deserve it are things that show how to pimp a butterfly. The content within the music and within the poem showcase the correct and moral way to handle society, while the title of the album displays the harsh reality. This harsh reality is compared to racial injustice and discrimination in the US which are the central themes within the album, as shown by the album cover. “Pimping” a butterfly is an idiom of the American Dream in the 30s.
I could go on and on all day about what this poem means to me and just how significant “pimping” a butterfly really is. Although I am really tempted to write a 2000 word essay on the statement “To Pimp a Butterfly” I feel I have exhausted my ideas for now. The main point I want to get across is that this poem really speaks out on racial inequalities and the injustices that are happening in the modern world. This poem shows us how we should be learning from the past. The problems we face nowadays are due to society being trapped in a cocoon and not wanting to become greater. Because of these things, I am scared of the reality I live in. A reality where we pimp a butterfly.
http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61aHQJ-tR%2BL._SY300_.jpg
Descriptive:
The ever flowing water peacefully makes its way back and forth across the river, shimmering and gleaming on the surface as it moves along. The faint scent of mist and rainwater beckon to me as I look around and eventually answer the call with my nostrils. The mild yet comforting breeze spirals around my entire body in a soothing rhythm that makes me feel at ease. As I listen I begin to feel vulnerable and more aware of my surroundings. The mellow breeze, the sound of water brushing up against the rocky shore, the sudden splash of small pebbles after being thrown across the river. I feel at peace with myself.
Persuasive:
There is an affluence of peace and weariness resonating from this area and I feel as if this were to be one big delusion. If one were to come here they would feel absolute. They would be emerged in the awe-inspiring freedom and relaxation this place has to offer. In contrast to the strings the world has attached to people, you are unbound here. There are no limits, only inspiration and beauty.
Expository:
The river and the rest of the scene were the same old until I saw two people kayaking side by side. Both were calm but the expressions on their face were obvious of them having a fun time. As they kept going they noticed a bunch of us staring at them. He crept a smile and then looked straight ahead. After going past the bridge one of them went a little off track and ended up spinning to the left side. It seemed she was stuck as the other person turned back and went to help. Once that was over they got back on track and started kayaking again together. After a while they were out of sight.
Narrative:
My mind was clustered with the many possibilities of what to write about. My thoughts were abruptly put on hold when I saw a few particular rocks. These rocks had pictures of faces drawn onto them with a black sharpie it seems. All of these rocks were together. Like a family. I called my friends over: “Hey Wild, Gavin, Murtaza, come here!”. As they came over and saw the artistically styled rocks we were fascinated. “Wow this is pretty awesome. I wonder if this is the kind of stuff we do in Creative Writing?” As soon as Wild said this I had the sudden inspiration to write about these rocks. The expressions on the rocks were mostly funny and I related this to my own family. We are most like family when we laugh together.
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