Student-Loan Debt Tops $1 Trillion 

“You need to have your physical body out there in the streets and let these people—and the rest of the world—know. When our antiwar movement led the world, it was because people could see us in the streets, see our faces, hear the protest music. You can’t do that shit blogging in a room.”

Samuel L. Jackson


By dotropolis on Tuesday, May 6th, 2014

…and the timeline.

I’m dating somebody and this is the first time in a while that I’m not talking to multiple women simultaneoulsy. Usually, one gets on my nerves so I go to the next one. Other times, none of them bother me and I go with whoever’s energy I’d wanna feel that day. This time, all of my energy is focused one person. But it doesn’t feel abnormal to me.

What hasn’t changed is that I’m not uppity about talking about this relationship to everybody. When I do though, I’ve noticed a reocurring theme. I was at this radio station a few weeks ago sitting in the corner while my friend was running her show. We talked about work mostly but the conversation shifted and I ended up showing her a picture of who I’m seeing:

"Awwwwwwwww she’s cute. When are y’all getting married?"

"I wish people would stop joking like that."

"I’m not joking."

There was this awkward silence for a few seconds but I wiggled my way out of that topic. Then it happened again last week with another friend:

"Soooooooo can you see yourself marrying her? What are her pros? The cons? Where does she work? What’s her money looking like? I mean there’s no point in dating if you don’t see marriage in the long run, right?"

I’m at the age where single people get paranoid about being single and not having any kids yet. I’m assuming that those factors are attached to the stigma of being lonely after you’re thirty. Lonely and unfulfilled. I don’t feel any pressure to do either one yet but it’s interesting seeing how many people believe in this unspoken timeline of high school, college, 9 to 5, marriage, kids, retirement, and death. And what’s even more interesting to me, is how some find complete happiness in just those things and nothing else. And the most interesting aspect, is how those that fit into that box can make you feel left out if you aren’t in that same category with them. I was listening to this TED talk podcast months ago and this woman described marriage as musical chairs. Everyone is circling the chairs while the music is playing but when the music cuts off, people race to the open seat. The married people are already sitting down by the time they hit a certain age. The single people are the ones still walking and looking for an available seat. But don’t we have a choice on if we want to play that game or not? What about the people that play this game and think homosexuals shouldn’t be allowed to play? What if I don’t like the music? What if I think we should all have player names so everybody is more identifiable? What if I want my name to be Thotropolis?

I need answers.


Selfie, for Tiny Teepee

“It’s not just being awake in the middle of the night and being anonymous. It’s being awake in the middle of the night with yourself. Without your support, without your buffers, as we call them. Your comfort things, you’re laying down. He didn’t even have his TV stations. He was trapped. He didn’t have his stuff, he didn’t have his bedroom, he didn’t have his booze, he didn’t have his stuff, [and] he didn’t have his world. It’s just a shock of consciousness where all of a sudden you’re stuck with yourself. You’re stuck with yourself. That’s sort of what Scarlett had, too. “I’m stuck with myself. I don’t have my husband. He’s off shooting this thing. I have my friends, I’m calling somebody on the phone here and they don’t get it. I’m stuck with myself. And there’s nobody here that knows me. There’s nobody here that cares about me. So who am I when I don’t have all my posse, my stuff with me?” That’s what it is. When you go to a foreign country, truly foreign, there is a major shock of consciousness that comes on you when you see that, “Oh God, it’s just me here.” There’s nobody, no neighbors, no friends, no phone calls - just room service.”

Bill Murray


Harvey Milk is getting his own stamp!(credit) 

Danny Brown…

By dotropolis on Saturday, April 5th, 2014

…and noodles.

About five months ago, I was reading an interview with Danny Brown on some fashion website and he was talking about what influenced his attire. The sentence that stuck out to me was, “I dress for who I want to attract.” And I never done that. Whoever I attracted, I attracted and we would work out our differences and enjoy our similarities. Subconsciously though, I began to do the same thing. Last year I was wearing this green and orange plaid peacoat because i was really into colors at the time. This winter, I wore mostly black. Black fitted coat that sat at my waist. Steve Madden shoes for work, which was new considering that I wore my Clarks prior to that, and fitted dress pants. Fitted jeans and higher quality button ups when I was going out. Without noticing, I started caring about how people viewed me and I desperately wanted to be recognized as a man. 

It worked. Until I started having problems at my job. On one random Wednesday, my boss gave me an assignment that was due in an hour and I couldn’t get it done. Then she started scheduling one on one meetings with me to talk about my performance and my workload. Beginning from January 2014, each week got worse and worse. Stress was giving me these headaches where the pain would be on both sides of my head and in the front as opposed to the normal headaches in the back of my head. My hair was disappearing fast. I got fat in the face. My mother noticed my spirits were down and cornered me into a conversation one Sunday. Another conversation I initiated with my mentor after work one other day. They both said I lost my confidence and it’s something I never experienced up until that point. Sometime in February, my boss accused me of dropping the ball with another big situation. She yelled and cussed at me this time. A couple days later, I scheduled a one on one with her and told her she was wrong for speaking to me that way whether i dropped the ball or not, even though I really didn’t. She didn’t want to take responsibility and didn’t apologize so we agreed to disagree. But I felt like a giant because I knew in my heart that I wasn’t wrong and i had the evidence to back it up. My confidence was back but I was still wearing mostly black.

A few weeks after that, I went to the mall to pick up some dress shirts and I noticed a lot of white women flirting with me. More than usual. I was confused because they never give me any kind of attention. Plus, my fascination with being romantically involved with white women died a couple years ago (for no real reason). Here and there since that month, it kept happening and it’s still happening more frequently than I’m used to. Like yesterday. I went to Noodles and Company and the manager handed me my food with the biggest smile and that ‘damn, where you come from?’ eye contact. It’s a fucking mystery to me. However, I do remember telling my little cousins years ago when dealing with women, it’s never about what you’re wearing. It’s all about your confidence. Believing in yourself and believing that nobody is better for the person you want to go after. And making sure that person knows that too.

Like this.

(Source: dwayniac, via haveyoufoundhoney)

“We’re hungrier than ever. We feel like we’re the hungriest team playing in the NBA. I want a ring. I want a ring so bad. And I know that one day our time will come.”

Joakim Noah (via derrickmartellrose)

Small Waists…

By dotropolis on Sunday, February 2nd, 2014

…and hooks.

There’s this blog I follow that posts nothing but women with curves. And it’s one particular woman that’s posted all the time with thick legs, big booty, and the smallest waist you’ll probably see. It’s odd because it’s the tiniest part of her body and I’m sure this is due to her wearing a corset, which she sells on Instagram. It’s nothing that bothers me either way but it is noticeable.

I won’t say who specifically, in case she happens to read this, but a woman that I’m close to came to me the other day and asked me to help her tie a corset around her torso. We attached the first of probably 20 hooks and she was struggling to breathe. She had to take deep breaths for every hook and it was painful to listen to since she doesn’t have a flat stomach. It bothered me, trying to squeeze this contraption around her. And if she was planning on wearing it all day or all week or all month, it’ll be torture. I wanted to say, “Whoever you’re doing this for, they don’t deserve you.” Instead we tried to attach this Jigsaw puzzle to her body for 15 minutes. But the most torture that we, men, put ourselves through for women is washing our ass. And sometimes we don’t even do that. For me specifically, in the past few years I dated a woman with an overbite, a woman with a very big nose, a barely chubby woman who thought she was obese, a skinny woman who thought she was fat, and I never considered any of these things a problem when I was with them. Honestly, I think we’re all missing the bigger picture when it comes to attracting the opposite sex. It’s not about appearance or weight or even personality. It’s about hygiene. And if you ever learn anything from reading my posts, I hope you learn to always wash your ass. No days off. Pretty please.

With sugar on top.