So many words. Not enough paper in this world. Don't hurt the trees over me.

Archive for July, 2010

My Roaming

I find I can only think in really hard times when I’m outside walking. For some reason this helps clear my mind so much. Just to be out in the world. See, feel, smell, and just experience life itself. It clears the mind like nothing else, for me. So now, I do believe I will embark on yet another tour of the world. Specifically, Manhattan, New York.

Who knows what crazy adventures I will get into. Hopefully, after it all I have much more to write.



Don’t Think Twice

I know you fight it. I know you need it. I know your heart. Just let me see it.

Don’t fight me baby. Just let me in. My hearts yours. Don’t let it slip.

Don’t lose your grip. Don’t lose me. Close your eyes, maybe then is when you’ll see.

Love is blind. Don’t think it twice. Because over-thinking may lead you to lose your life.

You don’t have to die, to not really live.

You know what you want. Is it really this?

Is it silly friends, whose misery needs company?

Or is that it that look in your eyes when you’re loving me?

I’d rather cry, ’cause we fight for love than to not feel a thing because we’re breaking up.

Sinking Deeper

I pulled you in without a thought of all the danger. I forced you to become my main chick, my right hand. And right here, where I stand, 6 feet above you, I have nothing more to say than simply that I love you.

I know its my fault. I put a flag above your life and all the nights I rubbed your belly until you slept with your hand on mine. In hindsight, that thought just makes me cry and you don’t know how much I force it in my mind to make me die.

I lost my baby and the baby she was carrying, fuck me, this is crazy, this is far more scary than my own life in jeopardy. ‘Cause if they stepped to me instead of you, I’d kill them in a heartbeat, and we’d be dead asleep.

Or who’d be dead is me. I’d rather me go and leave you with my seed though, in time you’d grow to hate me. Curse for my moves, curse my for flag, curse for the dude I shot and his retaliation back. Hate me.

Please say you hate me. You should! Come on hit me! Bitch, I said hit me! Tell me I wrong. Tell me all along you were cheating with my cousin or something. Make me me hate you. Make this pain go away.

I regret to say that I can live not without you. My life means shit to me if it’s not about you. So right here I drip my blood above your open grave. To hell and back baby, I’m eternally your slave.

Thy Enemy

To see beyond light is to see beyond the plain. So we fix faces, appoint positions, set names.

But with a name comes a tag, and to that tag we owe our lives.

We sit in the boxes and pray for just a sign.

Commit to our sins, and use them as excuses just to find some support in dads words: “You’re useless“.

So we speculate. Lets use this. Turn it into energy. A potent enough fuel to a fool, read: your enemy.

Who pits against you in arrogance. Who sees your silence as fear.

So you sit. Watch. Wait.

The boxes… they close in, and run away. All from the sound. So here you pray.

Pray for forgiveness. Pray for the end. Pray for the day when you don’t have to pretend.

Because who you are, and who they see. Two different people.

Don’t give your all. Don’t give your love. Don’t give two fucks, about thy enemy.

Just Open Arms

Love is the most powerful force known to man (and camel). Love can be the deadliest weapon on the planet. You can’t see it, smell it, hear it, or taste it (unless you’re nasty ;D), but when it hits you, you damn sure feel it.

Through the controversy we speak about the things love gives us. The things love enables us to give one another. Everything that we give to one another is something to be protected. However, in the wrong hands, or even in the right hands at the wrong time, this can become a weapon.

I learn my lesson the hard way.

The task is not to eliminate things that can be used as a weapon, but to master yourself, and be mature enough to not use it as a weapon just because you haven’t gotten your way.

No weapons. Just open arms. Come to me.

Ice Cream Fare

I just went through a traumatic experience. I had to wait for a cab. I was also in possession of ice cream. This is a tragedy. Let me explain.

So I get out of the supermarket and walk over to the bus stop. 20 minute wait wont fly with me, my dear. So I call the cab. I tell the dispatch where I am and where I’m going, to which he says,

“Okay he’ll be there right now.”

Now… maybe I’m just weird, but to me… right now means RIGHT NOW. Like, he’s right around the corner digging his nose at a red light with 2 cigarettes in his mouth, RIGHT NOW. So I wait. Here I am! It’s right now, right now. How ironic.

So I call after 3 minutes.

“Yeah, how long on the cab to Forest and Richmond?”

What do I get in return?

“Yeah, uh, yeah he’s coming soon.”

Soon? What does that even mean, “soon”? I may die soon! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?! So I call again, this time I make my intentions known, like a kid who’s meeting his girlfriends parents for the first time.

“Look.. I have ice cream and my ice cream is melting out here. You told me right now, then it was right now, and now its now. How long on the cab?”

He tells me that the cab “should be right there”. Since the initial call, about 4 cabs have passed me just teasing me like that time I kept pulling back food and the llama tried to spit at me. Anyway, I look across the street and there he is… in the gas station… just staring at me while he waits.

When he finally decides to move, he rolls up beeping the horn as if he’s been sitting there waiting and down to only .035 of a cigarette (out of the 2). I get in, he asks where I’m going, I tell him. I look at the lady next to me and go,

“Don’t mind me, I’m disgruntled because I’m with ice cream.”

Her response…

“Oh you live on Van Name too?”

No. I don’t. That isn’t what I said. So he drops her off and I get home. I pull out a 20.. he says he has no change. My man… aren’t these vital questions you should be asking before you embark on a journey?

So to all the people out there waiting on cabs, this I say to you!

Make sure the ice cream is the LAST, not the FIRST thing you pick up because you never know which no-change having, booger picking,┬ádeuce cigarette smoking cabbie you may have to wait for while your ice cream dies on the corner. It’s like a rap song.

Thug Life

(read: The Hug Life)

Vantage Point

It’s funny, from this ledge where I’m standing, I see through your heart, all your pain. I know I’ve caused it, but now I try to fix it. I don’t want to be the cause of the rain…

…on your parade ’cause I hate this little game that we play and deny. Look me straight in the eyes, and tell me you don’t feel my heart in your chest and I’ll let you decide…

…do I stay, do I go, do I just give you some time? ┬áDo I cry or stay strong enough to be your man of iron? Do I break, or do I hold you? I’m lost and I need you.

The hardest part about it is not being able to see you.

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