Wednesday, October 3

04:15 :: Platonics

The friends I made during my tenure at Willis Little Flower School in Dhaka, Bangladesh are no longer a part of my life. Of my good friends from Burnett Elementary School in Houston, Texas, I can only recall one that I still hold dear to my heart. Interestingly enough, she's also the only good friend from Houston that I know in this isle of Manhattan. My closest group of friends back home are all from my high school career. In fact, my latter high school career. Wow.

I'm not sure if I simply failed to make everlasting relationships while I was in my early years, or if I hadn't met the right people. But now, looking back at the black hole that exists from that timeframe, I'm wondering if I simply never had a real friend until, amazingly, the ninth grade? Scary, no? Indeed.

Monday, October 1

21:06 :: Minutes

// Breakin' balls cause I'm on call
// Eleven strikes, I felt it all
// You can't imagine how it felt
// To be the one you dealt
// Away to the highest bidder
// Cryin', weepin', thrown down like litter
// Sixteen shots and I felt your boom
// Rebootin' now to spell your doom
// Sixteen shots and I'll show you my life
// In your bloodshot eyes, under the knife

Admittedly, this came out more violent than I imagined. Often, I find myself walking the streets and attempting to freestyle: I'm not saying I'm good by any means, but it's fun. And the futility of my own freestyling ability makes me realize how amazing some of the emcees out there are. It seems the feel of spitting rhymes creates some sort of a raging imbalance in my system: any anger I may have hidden anywhere inside of me wants to burst out, tear things up and then settle back down, waiting for the next moment of combustion. Ah, well. It's all good.

Sunday, September 30

03:56 :: Confused

Breaking down barriers, I feel like Jackie Robinson. Toothbrush packed away, I'm ready to go. The bus is late, I'll take the subway. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I don't mind as long as you're next to me.

I think I love you — I hope I'm not wrong.

Sure, it can be that simple. Sure.

// The trickiest part of getting older, realizing that I have less and less time for myself, not really knowning why I'm working so hard to reach a destination I'm unfamiliar with (and arguably don't even really know) is understanding that it's probably better if I'm not alone when I'm making this journey. Yah.