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Sunday, September 16, 2001
there are no winners » nearly every building in lower manhattan is covered with pictures of victims of the wtc catastrophe. heads made print outs of their loved one's pictures, their descriptions, and phone numbers to call in case they are found. whats sad, of course, is that most of those people are already dead...but you gotta have some semblence of hope I guess. theres some lists posted up of victims that are in the hospitals, and everyone is crowded around searching. there are candles EVERYWHERE...I've never seen anything like it. people are walkin around aimlessly, looking mad lost, and above it all is smoke...still rising from ground zero. you can't avoid it in the skyline, you can't ignore how empty it looks without the twin towers, you can't ignore the dust. I spent an hour lookin for tim by 14th because there was a vigil going on and we were at opposite ends of it. tim wrote something mad touching on the crusade and he also has a photo gallery there of what he captured when he went to ground zero to help out. last night was touching, though, the candlelight is lovely. very surreal though...to see manhattan so quiet/reflective. what is the big issue, however, with people that want to take pictures of this being called vultures and what not? I don't see whats wrong with capturing this event for prosperity; we shouldn't have to depend on the press' depiction of things, particularly when its becoming incresingly obvious that the media twists shit out of proportion. why is there the assumption that heads that are bringing their kids to lower manhattan and their cameras are being insensitive? the little dunnies SHOULD see what happened, they shouldn't be kept in the dark, yo. and pictures are a permanent record of history. besides, those of us who are "acting like tourists" aren't necessarily untouched by the tragedy; not all of us are ignorant to people's pain. shit, my father's best friend's son was in tower one...I didn't learn this until last night. todd hill. he's like a cousin to my family, and grew up mad close with my brother. last night the sorrow I felt was so overwhelming that I started to get a migraine; something that hasn't happened in at least five or six months. traj said that I take everyone's sorrow for my own and its likely to destroy me - not his exact words but thats what I took from it. he wasn't coming from a place of negativity, he only wants to help me...my emotions are such that they overpower me and make me heavy. I'm a vessel maybe...I hold the weight of emotion for all of those in my cipher. I feel their pain/saddness as if it were my own. I've always been that way, and at one time I considered it a curse. now, I don't know what it is...its ME.
ignorance breeds/feeds ignorance. seek knowledge.
I'm frightened of weapons. I don't like having them in my presence, and naively I don't like that they even exist. it gives humans the power to take lives - and don't get it twisted there is a powerful feeling in that, however fucked up it sounds. then again, guns and knives aren't the only mediums capable of taking life, and therein comes the EASE. its easy to take someone else's life, its easy to assume the position of the most high and decide who lives and dies and, for the most part, it could be easy to get caught up in that power if you're mentally weak.
inside every head is at least one fucked up thought...most heads are frightened to explore that part of themselves, the ugly dark part that stays recessed for most. but its there, yo...I've felt it within myself, I've allowed myself to imagine what it might feel like - the power/control in altering the course of another human's life. the difference between me and a killer is ONLY my choice not to do it. theres no difference in our chemistry or build; its only the philosophies/morals I live by that seperates me. does this make me better? I don't know...a false sense of superiority is the last thing I want for myself.
theres a perverse joy in hurting another, and most times theres an excuse for it; those that sling literaly and figurative arrows fumble for excuses/justifications. they believe in those excuses so adamantly that they assume the position of the creator and live comfortably in vindication. so heads utilize whatever weapon they can stand to use and get romanced by the power of it. wicked, yo. there are demons everywhere.
I'm not on no heal the world hippy shit. I just see human nature for what it is. and there are no winners.
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Saturday, September 15, 2001
journey » besides the crew there were no more than fifteen or so heads on the airplane. I was so frustrated that I had tears in my eyes because flying to philly from pittsburgh was the only option that I had. all the flights to new york and newark were cancelled, so that was the seventh flight I'd been scheduled on. I figured my luggage would probably be misplaced and I was right; when I got to philly my black duffel bag was nowhere to be found - I reported it as missing. I also called stacey while I was there, but she was on her way to work and couldn't come by the airport.
the airports were like ghost towns; most of the stores and restaurants were closed and my flight from pittsburgh had a hard time even assembling flight attendants so shit was mad eerie. I wasn't really scared to fly at all seeing as it was like tryin to get into fort knox going through airport security, they pat you down, look all through your shit...I half expected a full cavity search, I mean damn. too little/too late compensation. security was crazy lax and now thousands of people are dead in part because of it, nahmean. while I was waiting for the flight to leave I got interviewed by this head named mark from the pittsburgh post or something like that about what happened and what I felt. right before I got on the plane my father called my cell and when I saw his name flashing on the caller id I had to debate answering the shit. wednesday night he hung up on me, and all because I opted to try to get back to NY against his wishes. I'm tired of the supreme disrespect he shows toward me. the yelling dictatorship. ordering heads around, intimidating everyone into doing things his way. I love him and I'm blessed to even have a father that cares, but I'm about sick of some of his ways, yo. all I wanted to do is get home to my man, my bed, and my life. I understand he was scared for my safety but I couldn't stay in pittsburgh until the crisis dies down; that could be weeks or months.
I gotta admit to being a little shook though because he informed me that four men dressed as pilots with fake IDs got arrested sometime earlier that evening. so, as I suspected, what happened tuesday wasn't the end of what was planned. I'm confident we're going to war, although with who I don't know; america can't just bomb who they THINK did it, feel me? and theres no guarantee, even if bin laden did organize this, that the country he's hiding in is purposefully harboring his ass. in any case, if we go to war I'm glad I got this time with traj. he's an ex-marine and if mimi's man, also an ex-marine, got a call then he surely will as well. besides, traj found out on wednesday that his great uncle was in the wtc and he's in the hospital clinging to life. they just found out he wasn't dead - for two days now they thought he was. so I want to be there for him. bless the dead, bless the hurt. and bless those that are being persecuted against simply because of their religion/nationality - that shit isn't right. I've also gotten a few emails about the clip cnn is showing of the people celebrating in palestine - allegedly that video was filmed out of context (quote: "THOSE IMAGES WERE SHOT BACK IN 1991!!! Those are images of Palestinians celebrating the invasion of Kuwait!") and had nothing to do with the wtc/pentagon mess. crazy shit, yo...the media loves to manipulate. so its most likely true; at this point theres not much that would surprise me. then again why would yasser arafat publically apologize for the actions of some of his people if it didn't happen? hmm. its hard to seperate truth from fiction when the media is involved.
while I was on the plane I wrote this: its strange how much this event has changed my way of thinking. quite honestly I'm no longer afraid to die, if I even was before. I'm no longer concerned about the future, I just want the present to be okay. I feel somewhat at peace, no longer so internally conflicted. maybe this disaster has finally made me a woman. I also wrote this; figured I'd get out everything that was bothering me at once. the pilot talked to us throughout most of the flight...I guess just to let us know that nothing bad was going to happen, and maybe to ease his own fears as well. the flight was mad rough because of the storm, infact it was the roughest plane ride I've ever been on. everyone was mad quiet. I just did a crossword puzzle.
I took the septa train from the airport in philly to greyhound. they wouldn't let me charge my cellphone in there, though, so I went back to the train station to find an outlet. ended up being befriended by this homeless chick named barbara, who really tried to help me out then asked me for a dollar, which she got. she found the outlets for me and was telling me about her husband. she kept asking if she was bothering me, and I assured her she wasn't, even though she was...I just really wanted to be alone and eventually she did say she had to go. I was down there for about an hour by myself, crying cause I don't recall a time ever that I felt that lonely, it weighed me down. you know how heads say their "hearts felt heavy"? mine DID, I felt that weight. 1:30am didn't come soon enough. got into NY about 3:20am to pouring rain and the most somber/sad vibe I've ever felt. it was in the air.
needless to say I'm back home where I belong. today I'm going to manhattan with tim. I don't know why I need to be down there, but I'm going to try to get as close as I can.
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Tuesday, September 11, 2001
mortality » when traj's grandmother died, he's the one that had to break the news to his mom...that her mother was gone. and he said her strength amazed him. the way she handled the shit like a soldier; never letting on to anyone that she was crushed. if my ma would've died in surgery yesterday I don't know if I could have held it together like that.
I don't worry about ma dukes on the regular because, unlike my father, shes healthy. my dad has so many heart and prostate problems that everytime the phone rings late at night a small part of my head thinks something might have happened to him. when my grandma used to get sick, I didn't get too worried, cause she always seemed to pull through; I could always think positive, nahmean? when she got sick in august of 1994 I thought she'd pull through; she had been more sick before and got through that shit. but she never did make it back out of the hospital...died two days before my senior year of high school. I thought that woman was immortal so since then I've been terrified of losing my parents. I don't fear any man on this earth, I don't even fear my own death, but I have a fear of losing the heads I love. yet, that fear has always been limited to my father, and sometimes my brother cause he's five-oh. worrying about ma was a different emotion.
when she went into the hospital yesterday I was agitated routine surgery or not. the night before, when she was removing all her jewelry, she handed me her sterling silver bangel. when she and my dad went to haiti before I was born, they bought four of them. two my mom kept (one was lost eventually), one she gave to her mother-in-law, and one she gave to her own mother. my two grandmas were buried in those bangels. so, needless to say, them things have significant emotional value and she never takes hers off. but she took it off sunday night and put it on my arm, and I was shook; I had never seen her like that before.
in the waiting room I was just running the scenario through my dome - what I would do if something went wrong. I ran that scenario for three hours until the nurse finally told me she was done and I could go help her get dressed. ma ain't look so good though. told me that she had a seizure pre-surgery and she thought she was going to die. the anesthesia caused some fucked up reaction in her body and her body started shaking and convulsing. she told them to go get me immediately cause she was going to die, but they said her vitals were fine and to calm down. but the shit SHOOK her, she kept saying "I'm gonna die". while we were waiting for her prescription to get filled she started to shed tears. I've seen my ma cry maybe three times in my life. it took everything I had inside to be strong for her cause I wanted to break into mad tears at that point. yo, this terrorist shit is horrible...but I'm so blessed and grateful that me and mines are alive. the creator is watching over my peoples.
ny is mad quiet tonight according to most heads...calm before the storm? us airlines said my flight is rescheduled for 2pm tomorrow. my father called today like "you're not going back to NY til I say so" but guess what? I'm out of here. I'ma try and get home to traj cause if something else happens and they hit NY I want to be with him cause they could declare martial law and forbid anyone to leave or enter for who knows how long. if thats the case, I'd rather be stuck in NY with him then somewhere else without him. sounds stupid, but thats love. and thats where I belong. the whole nastradamus theory everyone keeps sending to me, I don't know if I entirely believe in that shit, I look at it somewhat like I viewed revelations. can't take it completely literally. but who knows, I can't call it, I'm a mere mortal of flesh and blood. vulnerable. shit is building up.
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shit » damn this shit is like a movie. world trade center is gone. pentagon is fucked up. downtown pittsburgh was evacuated earlier, me and my mom just watched everyone crowd the streets from her apartment. word is that the plane that went down around this way was shot down cause it was hijacked and on its way to camp david. they got a 911 call from a passenger on board. my dad said, and I quote, "you are NOT flying back to NY tomorrow, I forbid it". I doubt I could get on a flight anyhow, cause according to a few sources NYC is declaring martial law. but um...yea, I'm fine. thanks for all the concern, heads. fucked up that my home city NY is fucked up, my old home city DC is fucked up, and the city I'm IN RIGHT NOW is fucked up. what a tragedy yo...I'm not tryin to go to WW3 up in this piece, feel me? they even evacuated disneyworld, heads are feeling mad vulnerable. guess you can never be too careful.
I want to go home though, I don't care. I want to be home. traj said he wants me to stay in pittsburgh too cause theres no telling how many other planes could be compromised over the next few days. fuck all that though, I can't live in fear, I need to be HOME. mess or not.
it was wacked out though...my ma woke me up at like 9am and said "look at the tv". thats when I saw the WTC all up in smoke, and at that time it was being called a plane accident. so I'm thinkin damn, are they letting more crackheads pilot planes? then twenty minutes later is when we saw that other big honkin plane fly into the other tower at the WTC and we were like "yea, that shit is a set up", so I called traj to make sure he was okay (he works in manhattan but he hadn't left the crib yet) and woke up my dad in denver to turn on the TV. news then cut to DC with the pentagon getting a plane in the grill. thats when my ass started to panic. I called chanel at work cause I know ma works for the government and I was scared she might've been up in the pentagon, but shes okay, creator be blessed.
when the towers of the trade center collapsed I started crying like a fuckin baby. we don't know who the enemy is, yo. don't even know who the "we" in that statement IS. got clips of heads in palestine celebrating in the streets. thousands and thousands of people that don't have shit to do with government/political relationtions lost their lives today, good times. sick muthafuckas. yet I'm not gonna be ignorant/racist enough to start pointing fingers to all the muslims or arabs, etc. that stay in the US; I'm not trying to single heads out for the actions of their government. that's just as sick as what the US did to the japanese during WW2, feel me? assumptions. the death of intelligent thought and problem solving.
my desensitation is over. my ability to watch the news and feel nothing is over. this guy I used to date was a security guard in the WTC. this kid I used to be roommates with worked in there. I feel creeped out, I can admit that shit, cause I don't want war. I can't justify killing other humans over politics or really anything for that matter. humans are so vain. assuming the role of the creator and taking lives at will because someone doesn't agree with your viewpoints? humans are fucked up individuals. we destroy everything we touch.
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Friday, September 7, 2001
the flight » I'm leaving out at like 6am to take the M60 to laguardia so I'm not gonna sleep. a cab would be easier and faster but without much money to throw around thats not really an option. if I sleep I won't want to wake up...and sleep has been so good for me lately. last night I slept so good I woke up at 10am in the morning and couldn't even go back to sleep. I was awake as a muhfucka...thats a rare occassion. so awake that everytime I attempted to close my eyes they shot back open. I think its cause when I went to bed I was in mad turmoil but I laid down next to traj and put my hand on his chest and he hugged it. I felt secure, nahmean? I feel secure in love. so, I had a dream about some kind of graduation - making that at least the fifth dream I've had in the past couple months where I'm in a cap and gown. thats gotta mean something. I'd break it down but...its too easy. and its not time yet.
I got mad shit to do anyhow, so its all gravy that I won't be sleeping tonight...gotta finish the new hunyism flyers so they can be printed and done by wednesday. gotta pack. gotta remember church clothes cause ma dukes is dragging me to services. she told my dad "I don't think shes gonna go to church with me, since shes whatever she is now".
yea, whatever I am now. I'm not a good christian girl, basically. I used to be, at least on the surface level. when I got "saved" I knew I was looking for something, and I felt getting saved would do it...I thought it'd fill me where I felt spiritually empty. didn't take long for that emptiness to set in again and persist until I found zen. this was like four years ago and all I really recall is that the chicks that wear all white kept tugging on my skirt cause it was mad short. all my skirts are short, shit I got nice legs. buterum (or buttarum like anitra says) I'll find a knee length one to pack and take my ass to church with her but I can't promise to like it or even pay attention. its the least I can do, cause shes gonna be in pain after saturday when she has that hand surgery deal. I can't wait to see her...when I'm with my mom I feel 12 years old..and shes SO proud of me, and that shit feels good. cause there was such a long period when I was young that I felt she didn't care much...now she brags about me, she wants me to meet everybody at her office. "my daughter is so tall and pretty, shes smart, she's self employed..." thats what she tells people. I feel like I really am pretty and smart when I'm around my ma; not out of ego, but just cause if my ma says it...its true, yo.
damn I went through an emotional day, I'd think I was on the fuckin rag the way I was sobbing today. just waterworks, son, it was like that yesterday too. there were catalysts everywhere and I had to let that shit out, and that cry ached. but I feel somewhat better so I guess it served somewhat of a purpose. this chick that I vibe with intellectually on the daily otherwise known as wifey made me listen to this song and a fraction of what was bothering me...stopped...bothering me. I understood what that card I drew weeks and weeks ago meant finally...so music is the most beautifulest thing, next to the unveiling of true intent.
I feel like my life has changed dramatically in the past like six months. I can't really explain what I mean by that right now but I feel that shit. do you ever feel so tired mentally that shit just doesn't get through? I felt like that these past like two days...I felt arrows being thrown at me and it hurt but what scared me was that while I was blocking arrows even the positive shit didn't seem to get through to me. I still feel like I'm half thinking, like you feel when you dream. mad numb. hurt buries itself so deeply within me I can't even find it to pull it out sometimes.
but I'll get through it, like I get through everything. baby cause I'm a thug. just gotta shake the fatigue off cause it weighs me down.
when I get back from pittsburgh I'ma call kimmeee and chill with her.
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Wednesday, September 5, 2001
pop » okay I haven't written in a week cause I had nothing at all interesting enough for me to type about. no motivation, no energy to write about having no motivation, no energy. my site looks different though; got sick of plain shit. forgot I could design a little sumpin. this is my mind on drugs.
been talkin to jason a lot lately who is intelligent and soulful. and underestimates his amazing artistic vision.
thank you kuma2 chicks for the DVD, I got it. but my thanks is more for the thought behind it...you know what I mean.
had to ask my dad to loan me more money yesterday because my funds are running dry, projects are looking wishy washy, and sure bet money maker doesn't start again until september 30. until then I'm living mad humble; it only gets bought if me or traj needs it. the super spent the day sitting on my bathroom floor fixing the leak that drip dripped so annoyingly that I had to close the door every night to sleep. can't sleep when that drip drop is dropping. keeps the shower curtain wet constnatly and mildew is everywhere all sopping. picture me on all fours...soaking.
got elevated tonight, took a long shower and the water was feeling lovely to a hyponotic degree, and got out feeling ahhh fresh. I should be asleep right now. but I hadn't written in a week and when I don't write for that long I start to feel disconnected from myself, and this doesn't even count online writing. progressing from writing daily to not writing for seven fucks my head up. makes me wonder where the time went and...damn what did I do for seven entire days. nathan.
yo, that city high song bothers me, the "what would you do" track. why does the stripper automatically gotta have the fucked up childhood, the shame, the suicidal thoughts, the "shes a ho" comments anyway? not all exotic dancers are like that, and I've met PLENTY, so the stereotype is a little annoying. I'm somewhat involved in the adult entertainment industry so I notice the preachy finger wagging shit that goes on when heads pass judgement on those that aren't afraid to admit/acknowledge that sex is good and sex is marketable. not all strippers are fucked in the head, some like to dance, take their money, do their job, and go home, plain and simple. heads get almighty religious when it comes to adult shit, yet they know they enjoy it and reap the benefits of it in some way, shape or form. sex is good. it drives us as human beings, even the most saintly, and the world would be fucked economically without sex and/or sexual innuendo...the drive. the need and hunger for the shit, nahmean? the kid in the city high video is calling ma a ho, but wasn't his ho ass in the club giving her bills in the G? dummy. what a nicely packaged yet strangly accepted sexist stereotype loopdy loop thing.
brian is the man for putting up with my elevated ass typing all this shit to him on instant messenger.
pop culture fucks my mental up. the past few months I finally noticed that the heads I associate with on and offline that have cable speak a different language then me. I've never seen 106 & park. didn't know who/what a linkin park was til I went to mtv.com today. the world is slightly different if you have no regular access to MTV/BET, kiddies, know it as truth that I have proclaimed. the music I listen to is more about what they're playin on NY's hot97 or down the street on the block. not altogether commercial round the clock either. anyhow, I haven't seen the real world since they were in boston, so nicole and coral don't mean much of shit to me. they vote people off road rules now? er? those that watch MTV everyday talk about surreal subjects. I feel mad disconnected...maybe my dad is right and I need to start getting the newspaper. I feel closed off from the world sometimes with only five channels that I watch maybe two hours out of everyday if even that. and no MTV. so nah I haven't seen so and so's video. and nah I didn't know the "hustler" shirts were so fuckin popular; I wanted one since I was talkin to that guy from ohio at wwf ny and he had one on and I said "ooh it'd be hot if I wore that shirt all tied up under my titties and what not".
yea, I'm elevated.
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Wednesday, August 29, 2001
I revert » when I was in college I did some urban/hip hop fashion shows. it was fun, but I really am much too tomboy (believe it) to think like a model. models = insecure/annoying. when I was in DC in july, riding to club 55 with bow, q'on, and chanel, the two dukes were talking about how extremely beautiful women are touched in the head. I thought about it, yea its true, dimes are crazy. I think because they get whatever they want and heads treat them like objects...? in any case, I wanted to do one show in particular because it was the first time females were organizing it. thought it'd exhale new life into a male-dominated event. auditions were agonizing, yo, mas were expecting circus tricks practically. they had three cuts, so on the last one (yea I was still there, miraculously enough, cause by now my feet hurt and I wanted some taco bell) they critiqued us and wanted us to adapt according to what they said.
so I'm a trained actress, I take direction mad well. but these chicks were not to be pleased. I tried to correct everything they said to the point where I just didn't feel natural about my walk at all, it felt all fucked and forced. after they kept "no no no"-ing me I said fuck it and reverted RIGHT back to my normal runway walk.
yea, I didn't make the show.
self-realizing lesson to be learned in all of this. basically, if I try to do something right over and over again, I try to correct whats wrong and I still can't please heads, I revert. probably not a good thing, but its how I am. like holding weight and dropping it. just gotta be me. if I'm not seeing any benefit or appreciation from tryin to change whats the point in doing it.
kwasi (who has more aliases then me) calls me hundalina. and he added an "about me" column to his site. get connected.
had a dream night before last and last night again about cutting traj open. but not to hurt him...to free something from him. don't know what thats about yet, but he's been feeling a little fucked lately so maybe I can sense an infection inside of his physical. I'm afraid of blood, I get lightheaded when I see it so needless to say I don't usually have dreams about slicing someone open like a christmas turkey, nahmean. I know it means something, I'm sensing something within. maybe its not literal, dreams never are. but I need to free something from him.
source awards were ghetto, then again they always are. glad scarface took best lyricist and not eminem again. outkast deserved best duo/group. can't really say nelly needed album of the year, thought that shoulda gone to outkast also or maybe the wu. glad jay-z ain't take that artist of the year shit home, I'm still hatin on that roclafamilia shit. I think they stuck eve in that category just so the females wouldn't complain, cause no way shorty was takin that. expected dr. dre to take home producer of the year, the happy upset would've been rockwilder (kid is sick) or timbaland but the neptunes took it...huh? nothin to write home to ma dukes about really...jadakiss performed, the lox were his hype men. like traj said, that must suck, haha. demoted from group member to hype man, damn shame. but hey I guess they'll get back together kinda like dru hill will (did you catch that joke?). the source awards oughta concentrate more on breaking out the unsigned hype...let THEM perform, not all these already established muhfuckas that hardly need more exposure. lets hear new shit.
in the spirit of hip-hop, however, I updated the mp3 section. and theres a new poll.
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Monday, August 27, 2001
but damn » I feel so strange. like theres a force field hovering all around me and nothing is fully getting through. I thought at first it had started when I heard about aaliyah losing her life cause ever since then I've just basically been on auto-pilot, excuse the ill placed pun. but its not just that...that was just the catalyst for the walls to start crumbling down inside of me and its been in the making for a good long minute, yo. sometimes when shit builds up to a head, it can be anything that gets dubbed the so-called last straw. but to a point I feel numb as hell, like if I let that shield down I'll break, nahmean? I've felt that way for about a month now. I've endured being lied to, disappointed, lied to some more, being attacked maliciously, reminded of past transgressions, utter and complete disrespect from heads I once believed incapable...I've been to the point where I've felt sick to my stomach and could barely keep food down. and now I feel myself slipping into this depression, the most fucked up, unbalanced depression I've ever felt. why are faulty heads allowed to be happy when the good heads go through so much pain anyfuckinway? that shit absolutely astonishes me, straight up and down.
I obviously believe in the karma concept, I believe that everything will balance, every negative and positive vibe we put in the atmosphere will return to us to restore the balance of the universe. but sometimes, yo...that shit works entirely too slow for my impatient ass. maybe me neglecting somebody I love has caused me to hurt, and maybe I deserve it, BUT DAMN.
I've been writing a lot lately. I write a lot when I'm in pain. its a shame, I don't think I've ever gone through a creative spurt that wasn't fueled by some sort of pain. maybe I'm destined/meant to be in pain cause yo, everyone has their path.
sometimes I get tired and I don't feel like bigging myself up and saying "the creator will heal all wounds". faith takes mad energy I feel I've lost with the "yea everything is butta" mask. I think if I keep saying "yea everything is cool" it WILL BE...speak it into existance and what not. everything is really not fine though, although I imagine it will be because it always turns out that way sooner or later. but for right now, just tonight, I'm MUTHERFUCKING TIRED. not angry, not bitter, just tired as hell all up my soul. and the more I sleep the more restless I become.
I worked on this play my senior year of college called tambourines to glory by langston hughes. in the play there was this verse: "this whole world has been my dressing room". that was the most influential play I ever worked on and I wasn't even IN the thing; it just hit me. I'd cry every night during that song. this is right around the time I started studying zen...I was aching for spiritual guidance so badly. I wanted some sort of faith so I could be confident that shit would get better. for some reason it gave me peace to know that everything in this world is preparation for something greater. for what, I'm not sure, as I've long ago left behind the standard perception of god and heaven. but I just know that there has got to be something better than THIS. and I'm spent. not gonna be sad forever, I just deserve to be sad for the moment cause I can't do the denial thing any longer, kid, its not gonna work.
"it became increasingly difficult to write from my heart without worrying about someone being offended, or someone misinterpreting my writing as a personal attack...it's a shame that some educated, grown adults cannot see my writings for what it is: a reflection of my heart. it's a shame that they cannot see beyond the literal." damn, believe me when I say I can relate entirely, pa, hope you change your mind. bye will santos.
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