hey ya!
I'm tryin to press my lips against yours until we're breathing for each other | you're in my bloodstream, daydream, making my heart valves pussy pop | you're stroke rhythm makes my body rock | this shit is fated to end tragically cause it jumped off unnaturally magically delicious like hershey chocolate kisses...
I am antsy. antsy and hyper. hyper and restless. I feel as it I'm not in control of myself sometimes...like I'm dancing some shit that's already been choregraphed...like my moods are pre-existing and all I'm doing is walking into them. infact...have I said that before?
I really need more of a social life...these days its like I don't even come alive until friday.
I still have writer's block...this is why my site just sits here stagnant. it takes a big effort to write; like I'm pushing through a mental hymen...my head is filled to the brim with words...eventually they'll start running out of my tear ducts. some days I feel very serious...some days I just want to write about my outrageous hormones...the latter wins today.
I dig jean grae like I dig sweet potatoe pie with ice almond cream...she makes me wanna write...I think it's my apartment that hampers my urge to flow because as soon as I leave this place the words just come. a part of me resists writing about certain things because I'm not confident enough in my wordplay to convey the shit properlay...
I know it's properly but I was doing a missy elliot and forcing the shit to rhyme...you like that right...
I have never been so unmotivated in my entire life, in any case...I can't get focused...although it hasn't been as bad in the past couple days as it was before. me and my highest paying client have parted ways...the magic was gone...now I am back to where I was about this time a year ago; furiously hustling and struggling...so the need to keep conEd away from my circuits overrules the heavy curtain of unmotivation right now. it's still bad, though. I'm a baby...I need someone to take care of me and remind me to eat and go outside to get fresh air and shit. I don't understand spinsters...I need to have a life partner one day and have a big household full of people who can help me do things because this taking care of myself stuff is too much pressure...I'm seriously on some jessican simpson shit.
I have a cut on my lip and as I know I should get some neosporin to put on it I just don't feel like it...is it sadistic for me to admit I find it sexy? I like small scars and imperfections...if I didn't have any I'd have a dollbaby face...and once you're in your mid-twenties being "adorable" just isn't ideal anymore. sophisticated and slightly scandalous and a little rugged and raw...grown and sexy...with a cut on my bottom lip...is ideal.
wednesday night cos was back in town to cover the 20th anniversay scarface release (which she ended up cutting out on), so we went back to the strip club with my boy D who was, literally, fresh off a plane from his native virgin islands. is it bad if most of the strippers know who I am and wave and kiss me on the cheek? I swear I don't spend mad dough in there...so it ain't that I tip them hella...I probably drop about $50 regularly counting my drinks and admission. wednesday I didn't have to pay to get in or for my drinks, though...city was at the door so he let me in free and freca was working the bar and my money is no good with her either. mark got me a lapdance from this piece of butter pecan rican yum piece named cinnamon...this girl was sexy as hell...she um...well let's just say we got a handful of each other.
shut up. I'm allowed to do that. besides that wasn't shit...at 2:15am they turned the red lights up, lowered the rest, and the dancers just went at each other...grindin...smacking, biting, jiggling baby...it was lesbian terrific like a madonna/britney/xtina three-way kiss. debauncherous. me and cos were all like WOW. DAMN. LOOK. HOOWEE. so naturally we left after that...can't shit follow lesbian terrifica however pantomimed it was. kay slay was standing at the door when we left...I didn't even care.
christopher came and went a couple weeks ago in the frantic passionate fury it always seems to be...it seems we're always saying goodbyes....I told him I want to say hello constantly instead. in any case, I took him to the strip club, too...heads can't come into town without accompanying me there. he enjoyed it...as anyone with eyes would. so now its back to missing him as per usual...sometimes when I think about him too hard I forget to breathe. when I manage to sit down and write a journal entry it turns into poem #230982 about the way his skin smells and how his voice sounds and his eyes narrow when he wants me. he is in my head constantly and I don't know how to get him out...its like he crawled into my brain and locked the door behind him...and hes camping out in there, cooking marshmellows over a campfire of this heat he ignited. he's...he is worth exploring.
the new outkast album speakerboxxx/the love below makes me so happy...man...I adore it. so eclectic and risky and lush and complete. yea I downloaded it...I'm not afraid of the RIAA. yes I am. but I'ma buy it on the 23rd regardless...getting music for free is dope but I like the album cover art and reading the liner notes. it's all part of the experience of the album to me. this one worth buying regardless...its the newest soundtrack to my living autobiography.
I have to get ready to go out now.
look how many of these sentences have started with "I"...I am self-centered...I am huny's outrageous ego. I-ya, I-ya...I against I.