a depressing note. DO NOT read if you are having a bad day, trust me

when its all said and done. you only have YOU. no one has your back. not even your mother. she will turn her head for whatever gleamers at a time you need her the most. but that's not the point of this entry.

this is about sorrow.

one so deep that if i opened my mouth you'd see nothing but pain. i dont know where its coming from. but it sneaks up on me sometimes. like prowlers. and stalkers.

im being stalked by my own consciousness. how wack is that? i thought if i left a bad relationship. a bad environment. it would all work out. now i have to deal with the truth.

my brother is fighting a bid
my fifteen year old cousin is fighting a bid
my mother is no where to be seen
my father is still gone - a home behind bars somewhere in California
my grandmother is dead
my grandfathers have both passed.
my daughter's father plays house when he feels like it.


i have my grandmother stressing over the bullshyt in cali and a sister running from the same demons as me. my daughter wants to know why i write so much. i dont know what to tell her outside of it's work. how will we eat. have lights. a house. clean clothes. shoes on our feet - if i dont.

no one will help us, amari. her eyes always tear up with fear at this moment. she doesn't understand.

this life hasn't been easy. and it's not as bad as most - i admit that. but its mine. and sometimes, i just want to hang it on a hanger and let it air out. its heavy with want for something easier. more tangible. less painful. more fluffy. less dark. less heavy. less evil. more loving. more beautiful. more than this.

this is one of the hardest entries i've ever had to write. while things in my career are moving successfully, my life is still. shuddering at growth. and causing me more grief than i ever admitted. i want it to stop. the pain of the unknown. who will have my back tomorrow. the list changes everyday. every single minute - i let someone go. i have to. i was taught through many years of practice - you can't trust anyone. and those you can trust - are dead.

so i hug people to feel their soul. wonder if their spirit will hug me back. and sometimes they trick me. make me think they are built of the things i need in my life. the honesty. the truth. the sincerity. the geniuinity. the stuff that good people are made of. and sometimes. they are still good people -- even if they can't give you what you need. just not good for what I need. they aren't demons. i have to remember that.

they aren't bad
they aren't bad
they aren't bad

they are just bad for me. in the midst of this declaration. i have to recognize the same thing in myself. and i do. my candor. my tongue in cheek. my abrasiveness. my brutal honest -- ain't for everyone. you have to be a certain type of secure. a certain type of water off the back -- to get me.

but who gets anyone really? maybe there are only moments that you think you GET someone. moments that you want to get. a point where understanding someone and GET'n them are two completely different animals. or i could be wrong.

and this rant is just another particle that will be lost on your computer screen. as you delete my url from your computer's history. and write me off as just another lunatic writer. and i might do the same thing to myself - if i had the pages to turn and start over. but im stuck with the abriged version of my life. the one i live constantly through memories and tears as bookmarks.