fly or die
quite frankly I'm scared.
there used to be a time where I couldn't go two days without writing, but these days my passion for it is buried underneath tidelwaves of stress and work.
now the good part is...I have made a dumb amount of money in the past month...dumb as in mad as in big, great, neat-o. on the grind all the time huny young. or what traj calls simple a hustla...I guess the hustler he always wanted me to be when he was in super hustler mode...which was and is basically always.
so much has happened. so much it would be fuckin impossible to try and write it all down right now as I'm working on an average of four and a half hours of sleep per night over the past four weeks. I got it all in my dome though; everything that has gone down, every weaping thought I've had late at night missing my boyfriend, my best friend, my family...wondering why the most high would pile so much on my fragile spirit. I've kept notes. mental and physical. shit the last time I really sat down and wrote it was my birthday. now, all settle down and comfortable into twenty aidfaj;sdfkajd, it just seems like it was a couple weeks ago. until I think about when the last time I saw christopher was...then I recall my birthday was nearly two months ago and it feels like it all up in my bone marrow.
I did have a great time on my birthday, however...I had a party with my girl cuddles at, where else, the strip club. all of our friends showed up looking rather dapper, even a few we'd yet to meet in person (a lot of us post at the same messageboard, so some new kats dropped by the buy us drinks and show love). I was very cute in two ultra-long ponytails, knee high white socks, a pleated grey skirt, and a black v-neck sweater over a white collar shirt. my friend sweetmusic, the dj, asked me "why the fuck [was I] so over-fucking-dressed"...I guess nobody was really prepared for my puritan, almost schoolgirl-ish appearance, but I felt gorgeous. my brother was in town, christopher too...my favorite people, really. silky the bartendar gave me free drinks, all the strippers kissed my cheek, the music was loud and the booties were bouncing to the boombap...I couldn't have asked for a better time. after the club we went to our usual after hours spot to eat...my turkey burger, I'm happy to report, was perfectly cooked to perfection and I ate it with abandon. I fell asleep as the sun came up next to my christopher, drunk, full, and satisfied.
ramen and kool aid, ramen and kool aid. I've been eating like a college kid these past couple of months...saving up to move out of this god-forsaking abode. and I do really dig my new apartment although I went through the most hellacious piece of shit experience with the broker I hired. in short, she started out promising christopher and I her apartment, a real big two bedroom she was moving out of for an even bigger place to accomodate her two daughters and her home office. she reneged a week later, though, after plans were already being made, when she conveniently "remembered" she'd offered the apartment to a friend of hers first. frankly I was like FUCK YOU BITCH and still am, not because we didn't get her place, but because she's subsoquently bullshitted me so much...whatever. I'll go back to that later.
landlord/tenant court, the snow, going out to see the punany poets with a big group of swingers (you'd be surprised the camaraderie that exists within a group of people who have orgies together), hangin out with my friend harlan, 10 clients simultaneously, missing christopher...gaussian blur. I have to remember all this shit later...you know...for posterity. I always get posterity and prosperity mixed up. it's too hard to think about that shit at 4:30am on .5 hours sleep.
boxes are everywhere; I'm neverrrr going to be ready for the moving dudes sunday morning. I guess technically that's tomorrow morning. my hair is turning grey right now I can almost feel the hair folicles dying.
it's crazy what shit you hold onto...well what shit I had onto anyway, over the years. I am not what anyone would call a packrat, I am quick to throw needless items away because I don't like clutter. infact, the only thing I seem to have an abnormally and inconveniently hard time doing away with is computer CDs and magazines. and change. that shit was just hidden in every damn nook and cranny.
packing is such an annoying, ethereal experience.
I wish I had the time to give this apartment a proper goodbye. its a piece of shit but I shared so much love and so many new experiences in here. my very first apartment. my first home that I could call all mine; that I was solely responsible for. I will never forget it. much like the house I grew up in, the one my mother sold when I was 17, I'll probably dream about this place for the rest of my life.
this is very random. I'll be back later. sooner then later. seriously. fly or die, sink or swim, which one shall I choose.