between gallery place & anacostia

so it's post-midnight and i'm up cooking healthy before this workout i'm about to get myself into.
jesus help me.

side note: just because i say jesus' name often - it does not make me christian. no more than my saying 'holy mackerel' makes me a believer in religious fish.

so there had to be a break in the sorrow.
and of course it happened during my religious experience in section 213 k-4 at the baltimore arena when jay rose from the stage.
i mean - how can you hit a jay-z concert and not be moved spiritually?
religious folks: fall back - i do not think he is god - but i would put him close to youknowwho.

so - once again - thanks to @fearcediva for setting that out for the kid.
woooooo!

and if jay wasn't enough - the white chick in the bright lime green biker shorts with the lace panties that were a centimeter away from peeking out the bottom of the shorts would have been entertainment enough. then she pulled out her blunt and offered it to all the black folks around her.
& you know how we are!
"fuck no i ain't smoking after you!"

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and lately i've been feeling kind of self conscious about my gear.
not too much - because i'm still cooler than a bunch of the mofos i see on a daily basis & my attitude and personality alone will carry me far...

it's just that i want a change.
i feel like i'm loitering.
so i've been thinking about a few different styles.
and i'm going to revert back to my college days.
before everybody was on pharell & kanye's dxck - that was me.
walking the yard looking like an abercrombie & fitch window model & shxt.

so i'm headed back in that direction.
still on my thrift store game though.
damn right! thrfit store.
that's where i've gotten my members only jackets ($7 a piece)
and my bird pants & 85% of my gear.

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so i start shooting my film next week i think. i hope.
and also the reality show i was offered to produce here in the district.

this should be pretty fun.
when i get the greenlight to give you more information you will get it.
i'm trying to be a fxcking success story.

i'm a provider, girl.
and i love you.

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and tonight i rode the greenline to anacostia
and i sat behind a beautiful young (mid-20's) mother of a 1 year old.
and i felt like writing something before my stop came:

between gallery place & anacostia:

that's your daughter crying
the costume in your hand proves it
different kinds of tricks though
she won't believe in the same holidays as you
there will be tricks with treats
she will use plastic bags given out at school
no gucci bags asked for monthly - weakly
gucci symbols don't look like that
i know that look on your face
that look of revelation
reveal to the world you weren't as grown as you wished yourself to be
but there have been promises made
between the time you first met her daddy and the last time you fucked with no bag and no pills
you promised she'd be raised differently
she'd wear pigtails forever
and she'd enjoy kids meals a bit longer
because deep down
you know that's how it should have been done the first time

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and now i'm waiting on my tilapia and broccoli to finish so i can work out afterwards.
if you want the recipe to any of the foods i make, i will def hit you up

and maybe even start posting them.

-----

and i end with:

i love you.

we all want



it's 3:11am right now.

side note: i needed them to know that my line brother is not my friend. he is my brother. more like my right arm.
side note 2: writing is therapy.

i sat down at the island to catch up on 4 episodes of shows missed - and it happened.
i cried.

since thursday night i've been attempting to drown a few sorrows and non-existent tears in glasses of tequila (some straight - some with lime) - bottles of bud light & shots of flavored vodka.
i said "attempt" - because i drank the glasses so fast, nothing would drown in them.

i lost my friend. that was hard. that was how i dealt with it.
what was harder was watching the man who loved her deal with it - knowing there was nothing i could say.
what was harder was watching her parents walk into her apartment, pack up bags of her clothes, dishes and photos - stuff them into her car - and drive away.

there were few forced smiles - but no occasion for it.

i lost my friend.
and i cried for her. and then i cried for them

and then i realized something.
we all want that.

it's pouring down raining outside my window.

we all want that love that hurts us horribly when we no longer have it.

one day i want to write you a letter & leave it on the island - beside your car keys.
i want to say:

let's discard the king bed & buy a twin.
i want to sleep a little closer to you tonight.
i want to hold you just a little bit tighter.
tonight.

we all want that love that hurts us horribly when we no longer have it.
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