long time comin'

that's right. 7 years too long baby.
time to "run into the arms of fate", as my friend used to say in her melodramatic pre teen phase. seems everything was a big deal back then, and i always thought she was being so over the top, but secretly i agreed with her.
secretly i still do, but there's no one left to talk about it. not even her.
if she was here i'd get high and catch up, tell her that she was right.

now, i try to talk to other people like that and they don't get it, so i don't bother.
try to talk some deep shit to the little children out here they look at you like you got two heads.
i should specify: it's the male of the species i refer to as child.
that's for the ones out her in the snow belt at least, i wouldn't say the same at all for the juice in tarana; juice flows freely out there. like water for chocolate.
here is more like snow for vanilla, it doesn't carry with the same appeal.
am i that prejudice against men of my "own colour"
i should not aline myself against them with such a brutal attitude, but what have any of them really done for me. there are but a few who i'd love to see suffer at my own hands.
wow that's evil, though not in comparison to the things i think about yet neglect to utter...


so is that why i am here, singular, on this computer.
why am i not making money on the way home from making money.
work was not mentally possible this aft, but what was.

i wasn't waitin' to exhale, nor was i holdin it in
though everyone's failed, i'm not throwin the towel in
got me wrapped in the shadows, wonderin just where you've been
got me wrapped in your beauty, and quickly giving in


broken ramblings due to stress overload, they should be happy i haven't gone postal yet over all this shit. well, me going postal would be nothing like anyone has ever seen-so average people wouldn't notice.
me going postal would end up in red, in places people wouldn't look, for people who don't want to be found.
no one should ever want to witness what me going postal looks like.

so many changes i want to make happen, and so many conflicting directions those chanegs pull me in.
if i had a car i'd be goin on a drive every night to the middle of nowhere to scream.
yea, i know, doesn't sound like words coming from someone who's too mentally healthy.
so what. who the fuck am i trying to impress.

it's like this: i'm supposed to be this do everything, clean everything, be friends with everyone, go to work and church and be a good woman and mother. yea. not feelin it.
i'm so overwhelmed with everything, and as hard as i try to kick it straight it's never enough and i feel trapped sometimes, but there are ways out.
long gone are the days that i thought i would meet some knight in shining armour, and yes i am being melodramatic, but these tiems in my life are cause for dramatics.
and why would i need to have a man come and whisk me away to be taken care of.
i can take care of myself. and not in that women's lib tryin to proove something bullshit.
a man is never something any of us need, it's want.

we WANT them to take care of us, WANT them to pay bills, WANT them to babysitt so we can go out with our girlfriends-draw us a bubble bath and give us backs rubs, and other lovely details.
after being beaten down and treated like shit, worked our asses off with virtually no pay
damnit! we DESERVE to be taken care of-you think we'd be demanding it, but we're not. we still let them cheat on us, still let them smoke all our weed, eat our food and make us accept all those collect calls while they're in jail-we don't ask them for anything but respect in return. well, i'm not looking for respect.

(wow i sound like as much of a card carrying stereotype as the men i fuck, i mean date.
and i'm not at that point yet)

i haven't proven myself TO myself yet.
it's most inportant to me right now, to get my life organized, to get back to where i belong, and to make as much money as possible along the way.
if they're not making money, or taking me to the place where i'm gonna make my money, i don't want any part of it.
and i can't say that i've ever felt like this before. it was all about the feeling, the sensuality. the sexuality.
sex isn't important. it's nice, and it can be sooo much fun, but it's really not important. the only time sex was important was when mj was concieved.
this icy chill does take a toll on your mind though. it makes you jaded, and i've been jaded before, smoothed the chip on my shoulder and gone on to be just fine, but things have changed.

i decided, instead of waiting for life to happen to me, i'd rather happen to it.
boy does that make me sound like i'm spirited and in control.

but i'm not.
i act like i've got it all figured out.
but i don't.
can't let anymore tears fall
keep away from the bar brawls
and every time that brother calls
my voice gets small...

off to delight in green pleasures, more depressing rants later.