The Dangers of Intellectual Property

3 people are trapped in a room that is locked from the outside. the only way out is through a hatch that is too high for anyone to reach. Collectively, the 3 of them possess the tools to escape from the room but they've spent the last 5 hours arging over who will get credit for the escape once they are outside.

Gene, who knew how to build a ladder out of the pile of wood and nails in the corner of the room, says, "For the last time people...i get us out of here but i want exclusive rights to all books and films related to our escape. the knowledge i possess is essential and the rest of you would be nothing without me!"

Lisa, who has a hammer concealed in her backpack, chimes in, "You know Gene i'm sick of your pompous attitude. It is I who holds the answer to this entire escape so you should just turn over your "whatever it is" to me so i can finally get us out of here! Besides, i'm the smartest one here anyway..."

Jamal, who is nervously fingering his chisel in the inside pocket of his jacket, thinks to himself, "I should just kill the both of them, take their items, and claim self-defense..."

They're all found dead a week later.

I made up that super-extreme story but imagine what our world would be like if ideas were freely shared amongst all. Yes, i know that is so scientifically socialist of me but it could work. There are so many diseases that some scientist somewhere has a cure for but because this or that pharmeceutical company owns the rights to it, certain people ain't gonna get it. inventions have to wait for patents because thieving is rampant. people sue others over the similarity of ideas instead of just collaborating.

ok yeah maybe idea-sharing is counterintuitive in a cosumerist world, but a girl can dream.

I Know Why The Caged Bird Doesn't Write.

i don't write because i'm afraid to be wrong. well not wrong, but at the very least, incoherent. or unorganized. unstructured. i erroneously perceive my own free writing as something that needs editing. or pre-planning. or fuck it, even paragraphs. and i'm sure that this stifles my creativity...this need to write right. to have every utterance be brilliant and profound. it can't be like that most of the time...i gotta accept that. to creatively censor ourselves is tragic...to self-edit is nihilistic.

i think of myself sometimes as an artist but am i really? what i have done for art lately? is this blog art? i've produced nothing as of late that's worth holding up to ridicule or praise. i'm empty-handed...nothing up my sleeves either. i may try to shake myself later. we'll see.

and yeah i'm supposed to be working on my hiphop presentation for class that's due soon but i'm so unmotivated because i no longer have anyone in my life knowledgeable enough to bounce ideas off of. sucks but i'll live. and throw something together. (wow i just dozed off with my fingers perched on the keyboard midsentence)

That's How I Feel Sometimes.

you know
i almost made this long post
here
about how when people say they
love me
then leave me, that they really didn't mean it
that they don't know what love is
cuz they don't love the way i love
but i know that ain't fair
so i didn't but
that's how i feel sometimes...

i almost did some things outta spite
just to rebel
against what is expected of me
just to turn my nose up
and my pockets out
at the world
not the whole world
just my world since may 05
but i know that ain't fair
so i didn't but
that's how i feel sometimes...

i almost deleted this blog
and every word, revelation and laughter within
cuz the value of public bathing
has become lost on me
when i can shower at home alone
in the dark for much longer
without people walking by and looking
silently
and keepin' on walkin' like they didn't see nothin'
but i know that ain't fair
so i didn't but
that's how i feel sometimes.