c'est la vie
I missed new york so last night my brother drove me back the the bx...I missed seeing heads on the street at 2am, I missed the bodegas being open late, I missed the entire vibe...I missed the bronx, livery cabs, prezel stands, the subway, the yellow ass metrocard gotdamn. philly was alright but its just really not for me, plus I'm not trying to be put in a living situation that I'm not wanted. my job out there was pretty dope, I met some cool heads, but I'm new york to the heart...took me going somewhere else for me to fully realize that shit.
one thing I can say for philly heads is that they are bold as a muhfucka...if they think you're sexy they will tell you...if they want to grab your ass, they'll do that shit...then get confused when you look offended. infact, true story...the sister of the assistant manager at the bar I worked at was ALL OVER ME last saturday night and I found out later she gave one of the bouncers the ill head shot in the boom boom room half an hour after she was begging me to sit on her face. uh yea, it was like that...then some other kid was trying to kick game to me while his stripper girlfriend was twenty feet away making her booty clap...kid was all like "yo, I got nine inches, wanna see?" ill.
in any case, I just felt like being in a position where I (a.) wasn't in my own apartment with any of my own stuff and (b.) was in a city I wasn't familiar with was taking away from my energy...I had no access to a phone on the regular so I couldn't call anyone including stacey who I had really wanted to see, I hardly talked to my own parents...cable modem got turned on the day I left so I forgot I HAD a site for a minute. and staying with tucker just reminded me that everyone has two sides to them and you never really know someone until you spend more than three consecutive days with them...not to say its constant joy to live with me and all my issues. but damn...I wouldn't have someone stay with me and basically refuse to help them get around or figure out the public transportation system...I wouldn't tell them to show some initiative if they hadn't figured out the MTA in three days and asked me to drop them off at work at 9pm in the middle of the ghetto when the nearest bus stop up that way was seven blocks from my apartment. and I wouldn't want anybody I considered to be a part of my cipher to feel unwelcome or uncomfortable in my home. and all I felt was unwelcome in philly and it hurt...and that hurt started to manifest itself physically in me...got to the point where I could hardly even find the energy to wake up and go to work, and I just can't be in that situation. I can't be mopey and cry and feel that alone...thats a part of me I've tried mad hard to change, and no outside influence is gonna fuck with my progress.
so...bad experience for the most part...but I'ma learn from it and therefore turn it into something positive; thats whats important...shit is REAL, period...life is not peace all the time; and I'm not gonna sit here and front like it is...cause frankly I'm not that pressed to fool heads into thinking my existance is bliss at all times...I don't sell facades to verbal textile consumers. so to the kid that decided to drop the "you need to be in a mental institution, stop being so miserable, stop talking in ebonics" bullshit in my gbook while I was offline for a week going through some REAL SHIT and all others who share that mindstate: unless your name is katherine and you're 58 years old and you live in pittsburgh and you carried a babygirl named huny for nine months twentysome years ago, do NOT think yourself so mighty as to tell me what to do OR to stop doing cause believe me when I say all the words on this site can't tell you who I truly am or what my mission is. you give me a charmed life and I'll fill this site with the happy dandelions and butterflies bullshit but until then I'ma write whats in my heart in the voice in which I SPEAK and if thats too urban for you or darker than your micky mouse club mentals can handle, take your ass back to epcot center and stop wasting my time and space with your unimportant assessments on MY life. fuckin i-net herbs.
as a matter of fact, I wager that clown came from this sad excuse for a link on newstoday a few days ago...word to the wise: don't link me using overexaggerated ebonics you learned during mtv jams because I happen to have more melanin than you and write in my natural lexicon there guy like totally and some junk...you're not down, DUDE. just accept it...don't "uz" play yourself trying to shove me into your watermelon and fried chicken eating, yessuh boss, sambo "azz" categories.
while I'm in a bad mood...I wish heads would stop being so fucking negative and let heads deal with loss the way they see fit. it was like 6am friday when I found out left eye died...I was like damn, thats a shame...then I rolled over and went back to sleep. this is not to say I don't care...because I do, I care in various degrees whenever pretty much anyone passes, be it matthew sheppard, aaliyah, my cousin ru who was shot and killed by gang members, my friend prince who was killed by the police in DC, my dad's godson todd who was killed when the second building of the wtc crumbled to the ground, or lisa lopes...thats just my heart. when I feel a connection with someone, it has little to do with how much money they made a year or if mtv deems them important enough to do a special about their life...and if that person is killed you're damn right I'ma at least wish them a peaceful rest, yo.
alright, true, I believe that when you die your energy rejoins the universe as a part of the all, sort of like a metamorphosis, so you don't really cease to exist...but because your physical body "expires" (ha, now I sound like third rock from the sun), you no longer have contact with those in the physical world...and you are missed by those still stuck on this plane of existance. so...nah, I didn't know left eye...but I've liked TLC since I was in middle school, I liked their safe sex message, and its sad when anyone dies at only 30 years of age. sorry but um...don't tell me who the fuck I can mourn for just because they're a celebrity and I wasn't writing a week ago about jane doe who was killed in the anytown USA...I feel like this: being anti-establishment can be even more trite and trendy then those they claim to be against...after awhile it just seems like they're trying too hard...leave the shock jocking to star, howard stern, and wendy williams.
its too bad I couldn't return from a week hiatus and be happy with you people but its never been my practice to fake the funk, nahmean? on the bright side, I'm alive, I got my health, I got a cipher who loves me, and the determined, by-any-means-necessary mindstate of the hustler I was when I moved to NY...so I won't be flinging myself off the brooklyn bridge...plus I'm tryin to see spiderman on friday and I gotta stay alive for that. ha-ha-ha-ha-stayin alive, stayin alive...
and I'm baaaaaaack.