“I’d really rather just enjoy shit than analyze it to death.”

I said this last night amidst the firestorm of tweets regarding the remix to that one song with those two wild child R&B/pop singers saying amazingly dirty things to each other.

It’s true. Lately, the theme of my life has been cutting analysis and keeping things simple. I’ve stopped searching for motivation, because it’s wasted effort that doesn’t serve me. I’ve stopped trying to force myself to be enthusiastic, because I’m naturally neutral and laid back. I’ve stopped reaching for all those things I’m not and instead am working on embracing everything I am. Finally, I’ve stopped concerning myself with the whys of people’s actions so that I may focus on… Well, that part is unclear. But minding my business has done wonders for my peace of mind. I plan to keep it up.

I wonder what this aversion to analyzing means for me as a writer. I entered my MFA program with a concentration in Creative Non-fiction, because I discovered that I’d been writing creative non-fiction since I began blogging, but opinion-driven social media platforms have made me loathe opinions and analysis; mine included. If you look at anything long enough, and hard enough, you can find something wrong with it. While overthinking may serve the writer, it has the opposite effect on an anxiety-prone young woman who genuinely wants to enjoy her life.

If I’m not down to examine, poke, and prod at my existence, then what exactly am I going to do with my pen?

In the words of the aforementioned R&B/pop singer who shares my government name, I guess that’s the question existing.

I didn’t realize I was in character until I found myself numb. You see, there was a time when I felt things. Lots of things. If you knew me from ages four to perhaps, twenty-three, you’d say that I was downright sensitive. Liable to cry at the first note of a song, the mention of a name, a fragrance, or you know, because it was Tuesday.

So it was strange to me, when one day, I looked up and found that I could include “detached” among the adjectives commonly used as self-descriptors.

A few circumstances contributed to this evolution. There was the diagnosis and subsequent treatment of my depression. Also, my discovery that I was an introvert, and the very nature of introversion implies that I have an auto-immune deficiency to stimulus. Can’t count out a frustration with being thrown to and ‘fro by my emotions that led to an intense desire for centeredness and peace. A peace that relied upon my ability to filter.

But mostly, it was social media. When Robin, the girl, became Skinny Black Girl (SBG), the blogger, and later @skinnyblackgirl, the Twitter user.

It was then that I realized how gotdamn neurotic people are. Instead of embracing my own neuroses and making myself at home, I projected my disgust at my own lack of emotional control onto others who embraced neurosis as a way of life. I didn’t want to be one of them, constantly swayed into irrational reactivity to my emotional whims.

Somewhere after developing a filter, however, I began living through one. To the point where I started wondering where the hell all of my feelings had gone.

And then in my MFA Lit class, we had a conversation about persona in creative non-fiction. And I was hit with the epiphany that SBG and Robin were not one in the same.

To some, this is a cardinal sin, but to a writer, persona is an important tool. Not to deceive or create falsehood, but to maintain a level of sacredness in one’s personal life. With the amount of time I spent on Twitter, I’d blurred the lines between the persona and the self.

Let me be clear: SBG isn’t my id or an imagined personality, but rather the writer/observer. The frame through which I share my experiences. She’s supposed to be detached, because she is a recorder of details. She is my writing voice. But Robin is the person who lives the experiences. The one who cries. The one who loves. The one who second-guesses herself. Neither is more or less real than the other, as SBG’s sharpness, wit, and timing are indeed products of my mind, but each has her time and her place.

Because I’m not content to live through a frame, or express without a filter, Robin and SBG need each other.

*looks at both sides of conscious* Now you ladies play nice.

It’s Valentine’s Day! I’ve decided to give in to the spirit of love in the air. Despite popular opinion, there is not an icebox where my heart used to be. I’m a Libra, which means I’m ruled by Venus. How could I not love the L-word?

To celebrate Cupid’s day, I’m dusting off some of my favorite love songs. And by love songs, I mean hip-hop’s odes to L-O-V-E. This isn’t a “Top Ten” or “Best of” list. Just a slice of standout tracks that make me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Method Man & Mary J. Blige – You’re All I Need (to Get By)
Of course this on the list. Meth and Mary opened the door for dudes who got their money the ski mask way to show appreciation to the shorties who rode with them. As soon as Mary sings “Like sweet morning dew, I took one look at you…” I close my eyes and hit my best MJB Yonkers bop/two-step.

Eve – Gotta Man
I loves me some Eve Jeffers and this track by the former Pit Bull in a Skirt was an SBG anthem in relationships past. “Wine and dine, I don’t need that, as long as you wit me. And you bitches thinkin’ that you competition, come and get me…” may or may not have been etched in my mind as a mantra of sorts.

Jay-Z featuring Foxy Brown – Sunshine
While “Ain’t No N*gga” was the superior Jay/Fox collab, the verses of “Sunshine” were more sincere. “Me and you, ballin. From the heavens, or to hell. Won’t let you hit the ground if I’m fallin’ myself. Now picture me leavin’ you in this cold world, brawlin’ for delf. It’s me and you in this, Old Girl, we takin’ the belt. From the lows, to the highs, through them foes we shine. Just continue to be my Sunshine…” Those could be wedding vows. No, really.

Wale – The Grown Up
Before Mr. Folarin wooed the ladies with “Ambitious Girl” and “Illest Bitch Alive,” he won me over with this track from his critically acclaimed (and best work to date) Mixtape About Nothing back in 2008. “Let me enter ya life, maybe we can spill rice. I ain’t talkin’ tonight, I am talkin’ tonight. You hear that Sade? No more talkin’ aiight. I got the incense. I got the candles. It’s love at its peak, I’m feedin’ you orgasms…” Well alright then.

Aaliyah & DMX – Back in One Piece
Rest in Peace to the late and great Aaliyah Haughton. In the vein of “You’re All I Need,” Aaliyah and X gave us this ode to ride or die love. “I know you’d kill for me, you’d die for me. I know you like to rip and run the streets…” I love this track so much that I used it as the soundtrack to one of my Sons of Anarchy fanfics.

DMX – How’s It Goin’ Down
Since we’re visiting Dark Man X, I have to include this one. Okay, so sure he’s talking about givin’ it some dude’s baby mama, but that doesn’t mean X couldn’t show his heart a little. “Loved it, let it go, and it came back. That’s how strong it was. But she belonged to cuz. Couldn’t belong to me. She had two kids wit’ this nigga, it was wrong for me. But we gon’ always be, best of friends. Haha. Mad love, boo. Till the end. Haha.”

Common – So Far to Go
Now I know everyone loves the Badu-inspired “The Light.” I do, too. In recent years, however, this track from the 2007 album Finding Forever has crept its way up my list of favorites. With D’Angelo on the chorus, we get a sexier vibe. “Go to places that you ain’t never been. Beautiful outside. Even better when it’s in. You have arrived, girl. You can come again…” This is how Lonnie Rashid Lynn stays winning.

Lupe Fiasco – Sunshine
Before Lupe was, well… Lupe now, he was the intellectually smooth cat charming a young lady into giving up the digits. “Fresh to def, she is. From her steps to her set, she is. So def might not let me live. Ya dig? Fresh, yes she is…”

Jay-Z featuring Beyonce – ’03 Bonnie & Clyde
*sigh* Yes, I’ve got Carter Family Fever. But before the Hov and King Bey settled into domestic bliss, they gave us this track as a not-quite-official announcement of their relationship. When Bey breaks down with “So I put this on my life: nobody or nothin’ will ever come between us,” I melt. Obviously, the woman told no lies.

Ghostface Killah featuring Estelle and Vaughn Anthony – Paragraphs of Love
Since the release of the “Ghostdini Wizard of Poetry” album in 2009, this has become one of my favorite songs. Ghost is hilariously sincere “Excuse me, are you pregnant? Not to be rude. But if it means anything, I could get you some food,” while Estelle and Vaughn Anthony give some soulful harmonies on the bridge and chorus. This one always gets the replay treatment. *presses repeat*

I know I left off some classics, so feel free to tell me some of your favorite hip-hop love songs in the comments. Happy Love Day!

[Addendum: My friends at the hip-hop blog What's In My Headphones turned today's post into a mixtape! Make sure to go grab Love & Hip from www.whatsinmyheadphones.com, inspired by ya girl!]