Boxed Thoughts

by Alexander Dang

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This is going to be a purely spoken word mixtape/album/project.


released October 21, 2012



all rights reserved


Takumi Portland, Oregon

The name is Takumi the Fox. Hailing from Portland, Oregon, I'm a pretty cool kid!

Wanna contact me?

Holla at yo boy!

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Track Name: Hide and Seek
I found god in a pair of all white Van sneakers. The moment I slipped my feet through these shoes was Cinderella-esque: everything seemed so right. Cleanliness is the closest thing to godliness.

I found god in my wallet, coming slowly like tortoises and fleeing quickly like hares. God was behind my debit card and every time I swiped that plastic, I felt something warm beating in my Barbie/Ken doll hollowed chest.

She found god in him. Then she found god in herself. Then she found god laying right next to her, exhausted, smiling, and content. She found god in the peaks and valleys of his muscular build, slightly clothed from a cleverly placed sheet. She found god in tracing outlines in the canvas of his body. She could feel god.

These two found god trapped inside of needles. The two different gods in two needles for the two veins. One of them released god into the veins of the sick. The other unleashed god into himself.

I found god in a Where’s Waldo book. When I was easily able to find Waldo on every single page last week at the Dentist’s, I found god waiting at the end of the book. Waiting to tell me “So, here it is. This game isn’t a challenge anymore. Close the book and find someone else now.”

Somebody found god once. The risen sun to bright in their losing eyes.

We found god in a basketball court last night. We found god in shots of Jack Daniels and Honduran cigars. We found god in our hands and in the gunpowder cut from fireworks into god’s orange juice bottle. We lit off sparks and we tied a fuse to that orange juice bottle. We even got to hear god too. But after hearing him, we got a little spooked and we ran away from him.

We found god in a parking lot and he asked us for change.

She found god inside of a book. She found god in every book she read, in fact. They all looked a bit like Peter Van Houten. And she wasn’t sure, but she thinks they were all wearing glasses.

I found god at the bottom of my bowl of soup once. After my first paycheck, I decided to treat myself to a lovely meal. Complimentary soup was given to me. Tomato basil. It was a delectable meal. One of the first that I was actually able to buy for myself.

He found god in a room, sitting alone. God was just sitting in this old, wooden chair and staring up at the ceiling: as if there was something written along the top.

She found god waiting at the end of the road. She found god waiting behind a drunken driver, an old oak tree, and a broken barrier.

They found god but lost him a long, long time ago. So they laced up their boots and stuffed their backpacks with only the bare essentials. They found god once, and they were going to do it again.

We found god in ourselves this morning. You never get to know somebody until you talk to them at 4 in the morning. We found the holiness in our words and we found the chivalry in our actions. Our laughter was suppressed because of sleepers downstairs and like bullets from a silenced gun: still deadly. We saw the angels trapped inside of our conversations and we even caught a glimpse of the great master plan at one time or another.

I see god in myself. Sitting at a table for two with a book, a pen, and a notepad. He is drinking a cup of white tea.

I see the devil in myself. Sitting with god, enjoying a latte. He is very well dressed.
Track Name: Times I Have Been Mistaken For A Girl
Times I have been mistaken for a girl:
1: Ever since I was tall enough to reach the phone perched and mounted against the wall, I was able to answer it. And every time I did answer, I was always greeted by someone on the other end calling me "Ma'am." And for a long time, I thought they were saying "Man" because I was cool and hip, man!
2: When beginning high school, I found a correlation between girls finding I was cute and long, swishy hair so I decided to grow my hair out like how optimists never trim their dreams short or how dreamers never cut their hopes down. But this lion's mane became and remained a gender mystery to some store owners asking my girlfriend and I, "How are you ladies doing tonight?"
3: I was always a crier. And with 3 older brothers, all seemingly manlier and tougher than I, it wouldn't be strange to hear them telling me to buck up and shut up. Uncomfortably familiar like loneliness, hearing "Stop being a girl" was a terrible mantra that I got used to like "I will die alone" or "I will never amount to anything."
4: Though it is quite far from the truth, my mom, in her old, traditional ways, believes gay to be synonymous with effeminate. So it won't be odd hearing from my mom questioning my sexuality due to the clothing I wore or perhaps how much I spent on appearances. "Why don't you do boy things? How are you going to take care of your wife?"
5: And when my father found out that sometimes I liked looking at boys, he told my mother that he lost a son. And I can't help but keep thinking about my sister who
6: My mom always complained about having 4 boys and no daughters and
7: My sister was born in 1991 but
8: died three days after her birth due to complications and
9: My mom didn't want to have any children afterwards but
10: My dad had a feeling and I don't know what that feeling was but I think it was
11: that he wanted to have another daughter and
12: I didn't come out the way they expected
13: I think I failed before I was even conceived
3: I was always a crier
14: I was always so mad at myself for being so sensitive
15: Why wasn't it okay to play house with the girls?
16: I wasn't good at playing cops and robbers
17: The teacher called role and said Alexandria
0: I was a disappointment before I even began.
12: I didn't come out the way they expected
12: I didn't come out the way they expected
12: I didn't come out the way they expected and now I'm at some variable of a number, wondering if it still makes a difference. My hair is shorter, my voice is a little deeper, and I still might not do things a boy does. Instead, I do things a human does.