"my baby's got a big, big heart. - she does. she's just got so much love, it gets kind of hard for my baby to contain, and she can't refrain [from sex]. so she passes her ass around like it's cash in market square. - she does, but i never look because just thinking about it is getting me down in the worst of ways. i'm amazed; how did you ever get so easy? ... we've all got some addictions, but some of us are out of control. ..."
and so, i murderd a prostitute.
i love you,
but don't doubt-
i am slowly
but surely
quitting you.
i wonder what it will be like to look in the mirror in sixty years, in thirty, in ten.
to see how my face and body have changed, how i have aged, wrinkled, and matured.
i wonder what it will be like looking through these same eyes on a completely different face. how will i adapt to the grooves in skin and liverspots that come with the passing of time? will i be one of those old women with coarse, dark chin hairs? probably. will my hair fade and fall out? probably. will i be legally blind by seventy with weak knees and saggy tits? probably. although, i don't remember what it was like to look in the mirror when i was sixty pounds heavier, so i'm sure the affects of aging won't come as such a surprise.
i can't remember what it was like to be a young kid.
i can't imagine what it will be like to be a mature adult.
"there is nothing new under the sun." - everything you could ever possibly know and experience you already do and have, as an existence, but not as yourself. it is the life you live, the decisions you make, and the people you meet and choose to listen to that define your reality and understanding of the world around you.
a man with exceeding amounts of wisdom doesn't need to experience to understand,
but understands the importance of experiencing.
i had another dream the night before last about you.
i was sitting behind the counter at my store, facing the table with my head down. out of my peripherals, i noticed someone in the proximeter, so i lifted my head to see you standing on the opposite side of the counter- tall, dim. the picture is hazy; distant. you are in a leather jacket and a white hat and you are looking at me. smiling. i remember hearing customers in the background as i attempt to say something to you, but you just draw your head close to mine as you look into my eyes.
i wake up.
i have been struck by a smooth criminal.
friday was the anniversary of my birth twenty years prior.
i cried and bitched until five,
i received the best birthday gift. ever,
i hung out with my brother, nugget,
i hung out with koolkid, l.b., house, za'q', 'b.d.', pops, devon, and j.j,
i hung out with kasper and clinty,
and i went to bed at six saturday morning.
the last couple weeks have been a haze-
a blur of positive and negative and emotions.
i've felt great and i've felt shitty.
i haven't gotten adequate or normal sleep for about three weeks.
he's beginning to make me sick, i swear it.