Do You Realize…?

Last night, I realized that Milo and I are both adrenaline junkies. I decided to test my Eyeliner Theory again, when he randomly texted me to ask if I wanted to hang out, I agreed.

After smoking a blunt together, Milo began rambling about things that I couldn’t understand. In those moments, I could only stare at his receding hairline and get lost in thought about how egotistical he was. It reminded me of every experience that I’ve ever had with entitled Rich Kids. So he left soon after, and I ate dinner.

I got a phone call from someone who Gunther had accidentally double booked to perform this weekend, when I had booked it for myself first. I definitely had to stand my ground and push for my right to perform until the time that I had originally reserved. My adrenaline began to pump, with that call. I’m terrible with confrontation and with phone conversations. As soon as I hung up, a text message came in from Milo. He wanted to know if I was up for another smoke and a drive. I guess I just have an adventurous spirit, and I needed the stress relief, so I said yes.

A half an hour later, he was parked behind my building, waiting for me. I jumped in and he asked me what I was comfortable with. When he said, “I’m up for anything!” my excitement began to grow. I laughed, “Don’t say that to me, because I’m up for anything too!” The thing is, if he had said that I he wanted to drive to anywhere until the sun came up…until the sun went down again…I would have happily agreed.

We decided to drive thirty minutes in one direction, and then turn around and come back home. The roads were slick, because it was slightly drizzling, and the fog concealed the twists and turns of the street. He played some songs on his car speakers, and so did I. Taking turns, we passed the bowl back and forth, with the windows up. My heart was racing from the excitement. I thought we could have missed a turn and crashed into a tree, or skidded off the narrow path and flipped over. The thing is, I didn’t care! If I had died, I would have had a smile on my face.

And do you know why I was grinning from ear to ear? There was a an orgasmic trembling in my midsection that slowly rose in intensity as the drive wore on. I couldn’t believe that my night, which had started as a bit of a drag, was turning out to be the best night of my life. I thought the last time that we’d hung out together was the best night of my life, before this night. I never realized that it would get even better.

“Do You Realize – that you have the most beautiful face
Do You Realize – we’re floating in space –
Do You Realize – that happiness makes you cry
Do You Realize – that everyone you know someday will die

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes – let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It’s hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn’t go down
It’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning round”

Who knows what can happen next? When are we going to have another one of our revved up rides? It’s like the more we hang out, the more I like him. I still feel like I could be very comfortable being friends, especially if our relationship stayed this adventurous all the time. Honestly, there’s only one obstacle that I see getting in our way of a romantic union. That is our communication.

I had the same problem with Jax. We often missed each other completely. Milo would go on tangents about the cars that he wants to own, and then make sarcastic jokes about things that went over my head. I’d joke about something in return, which he wouldn’t understand, or perhaps go on my own rant. It makes me wonder…if that was a big problem in my previous relationship, and I’m running into this obstacle in my newer, close friendships, then what do I need to do to remedy my weakness?

If the first step is admitting you have a problem, and I somehow am able to change it, will that attract Jax to me again? He texts me that he misses me. The truth is, I’m happy now. That must be why he’s suddenly showing interest; because I’m a better version of the girl he first met.

The reason I’ve been able to upgrade myself is largely due to Milo. Normally, I feel like I need to smoke weed or take Xanax to “take the edge off.” Sometimes I come home and watch porn until I fall asleep at the computer. Recently, I’ve take up smoking cigarettes until my throat is sore. All of these things are addictive to me. It’s like I can’t get through life without an outlet of some sort.

I used to create so much drama in my own life. Now I know why. I have been so Goddam bored! As I sat in the passenger seat of my good friend’s pickup truck, holding my breath with every turn, gripping the handle above my head, a heat coursed through my veins. He somehow found a way to wake me up, to breath life back into my life. Who knew that the tall, blonde, goofy fraternity brother would be the one I would end up opening up to next? Certainly not me. I wouldn’t have guessed it in a million years.

“And instead of saying all of your goodbyes – let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It’s hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn’t go down
It’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning round”

Lately I’v been contemplating whether I could enter into another serious relationship, after all that I’ve been through. A part of me has given up on the idea of marriage. I trusted the love of my life, a man I considered to be my soulmate, and he betrayed me.

I’ve recently realized that you can only be happy in a relationship if you implicitly trust and esteem your partner. That is why I can’t see myself in a serious relationship at the moment. I’m not ready to trust someone with my heart and body, just yet. So I will just take my time and enjoy life. No need to rush anything whatsoever.

When Milo dropped me off at home, an hour after he’d picked me up, I just laid in my bed and listened to music. I needed to sort out my feelings, so here I am, blogging about it all. I don’t need to smoke or masturbate. I haven’t needed to create any unnecessary drama. I slept like a baby last night. All because my energy was zapped by adrenaline. That’s what I’ve been missing this whole time!

“Do You Realize – that you have the most beautiful face?”

Do You Realize, The Flaming Lips

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Trouble, Trouble, Trouble!

It all began with the perfect eyeliner. That’s what prompted me to wear a sexy tank top over a black bra, and my hott jeans. I somehow knew that it would be the best night of the week. There’s something about having the perfect eyeliner that somehow dictates how the rest of the night will go.

So Lisa and I headed to Central Perk. We sat outside and lit up a couple of American Spirits. A strange looking young man, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, passed by and doubled back to ask for a smoke. When I agreed, he took a seat and tried to make himself at home. “Monty” was strange, sporting a black mohawk and a pair of shifty eyes. “I knew [he] was trouble when [he] walked in…”

When Matt showed up, he and Lisa got up and left me there ALONE with him. Fortunately, however, the early evening suddenly took an unexpected turn. Milo walked up, wearing a black polo and jeans. I thought, “You found me…” His face displayed disappointment in Matt for not staying longer to see him. His eyes betrayed a glimmer of excitement, hidden behind his sparkling blues irises.

A few minutes and half a pack later, he asked me to grab some dinner with him. Happily, I obliged, and we excused ourselves from the table. Monty asked if he could walk with us on his way to whereverland, and burn another of my cigarettes. Reluctantly, I handed him one and we walked. He asked if we wanted to get stoned on a nearby rooftop that he frequented. We gave it a chance.

The view was breathtaking. I could see the entire city! I felt like I could have flown. As if reading my thoughts, Milo exclaimed, “I know I can fly if I just get a running start!” The cool breeze rustled his blonde locks, I practically swooned. I don’t know how long we were smoking and discussing the complexities of flight. But Monty was behaving oddly. He would hold unnervingly direct eye contact with each of us, and we quickly became wary of the stranger. Afterwards we all went to a bar down the street, where Monty kept asking Milo to buy him drinks. This was off-putting to me. I cannot STAND a mooch! This was the second warning sign that Monty was Trouble.

“I knew you were trouble when you walked in
So shame on me now
Flew me to places I’d never been”

Strike three was when I returned from the bathroom and the creep was uncomfortably close to Milo, coming on far too strong. We gave each other a quick glance and both instantly, silently, knew. We excused ourselves, stepped outside, and tried to make a break for it. After walking for a couple of minutes, I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that we were being followed. “Are you following us?” I yelled back at him. “I could use the walk,” he shrugged, “and I was hoping to smoke another cigarette with you.” (Mind you, I had bought a fresh pack that morning, and was already almost finished with it by the end of the night.) Milo and I eyed each other, warily.

Anticipating possible danger, I reached into my bag and produced yet another smoke. We were walking in the opposite direction of my apartment, trying to throw him off the scent. After a couple of blocks, he took the bait, realizing that we weren’t going anywhere else with him. As Milo and I turned right, he turned left, and we walked on for a few blocks. I could not stop glancing over my shoulder, waiting for the stranger to reappear, expecting to see him come barreling down the sidewalk in hot pursuit; on the lookout for his shifty eyes to peer out at us from every bush and alley. I couldn’t help but wonder if the lyrics would apply to me in the not so distant future…

“Now I’m lying on the cold hard ground
Oh, oh, trouble, trouble, trouble”

Milo and I ended up at the park. I’d brought the Dutch Masters, he’d brought the weed, so we rolled a blunt on a bench, sitting side by side in the dark. “I’d actually bought you a drink,” Milo said as we smoked, “while you were in the bathroom. Sorry you didn’t get to drink it.” I exclaimed, “Thank you! That’s a really nice thing to do. I wasn’t expecting that!” The blonde frat boy smiled at me, “No problem! I was wondering if this was a date…” He said quite a few things after that, but I didn’t hear any of it. Should I address the date thing? I wondered. Does this mean he likes me? I should have asked: “So is this a date?” But I didn’t.

Instead, after we’d smoked, and determined that the coast was clear and Monty was no longer stalking us, we met Lisa and Matt at a pizza place. After dinner, we horsed around for a bit, and then headed next door to the convenience store for more cigarettes. On the way, Milo had to stop and tie his shoe. So I stayed back with him as Lisa and Matt continued walking. When Lisa turned around and gave me a strange glare, I jokingly yelled out, “Oh don’t mind us, we’re just making out!” She knew that I was merely being playful, but what Milo said next was far more meaningful than my sarcasm, “We’re just going to be the weird couple that stays back and keeps to ourselves.” Matt squeezed Lisa’s hand. It was barely discernible to most people and I don’t know if Milo noticed, but I did because it’s very obvious that I’m being pushed into his arms, from all sides.

We all decided to go back to my apartment, for a “no-pants party.” I went with Milo to park his car on my block, while Matt and Lisa walked. On the way, he asked, “Do you want to go back to my place and pick up some bud?” Being the true stoner chick that I am, I enthusiastically agreed. Lisa and Matt can let themselves into my place.

Thinking that we’d grab it and head right back, I entered his apartment and sat on the couch while he used the restroom. Before I knew it, we were smoking a bowl and watching YouTube videos. I got a text from Lisa, asking where we were. Milo offered, “She and Matt are always ditching us to hang out with each other, so we should just ditch them this time.” I had to think about it for a moment, not wanting to disappoint my sister, but decided that he had a point. So I texted her back, “We’re smoking. Don’t wait up. ;)”

Milo and I stayed up until 5am, smoking, watching The Office, and talking. I opened up to him about how I can’t have a real relationship with my mother because I can never have a productive conversation with her. He told me that his birth father left him when he was very young, and he was raised by Matt’s uncle from the age of 6. He alluded to the loss of a girl whom he loved. I alluded to the loss of Jax.

“And the saddest fear comes creeping in
That you never loved me or her, or anyone, or anything, yeah”

I Knew You Were Trouble, Taylor Swift

But I’m overthinking it all. We didn’t kiss. Still, it was magical. The best night I’ve EVER had. Honestly, even if we remained only friends, I would be honored to be just that. It doesn’t look like our relationship will remain very platonic for very long, though. And to think, it all began with the perfect eyeliner.

Max & Harry

I was hanging out at Central Perk, with Matt and Lisa. Since it happened to be such a gloriously beautiful day, we decided to sit outside to sip our lattes and smoke cigarettes. As we were laughing and talking, “Maxwell,” a regular we’ve met at Cheers, was passing by and stopped to say Hello. After a bit of small talk, Gunther came outside and offered him a cup of coffee. Max said, “I don’t drink coffee but one day out of the year.” To which I replied, “Then today is that day!” I pulled up a chair and encouraged him to have a seat. “Well,” he conceded, “if you’re going to insist, I am going to join you!”

So, as Gunther went inside and made his old friend a latte, the four of us sitting outside began to converse. Unfortunately, Lisa and Max couldn’t sit and chat for too long. They both had a plethora of homework to complete, which drew them inside…where the outlets are, for their laptops. I stayed outside, talking to Maxwell.

Max is an older black man who lives, works, and generally sticks to the same square mile radius. He’s been at Cheers, every time The Cast has hung out there…which is pretty much every day, if not every other. From this, our first actual conversation together, I learned so much about him. He grew up in the Deep South during the 60s and 70s. He married his high school sweetheart and had two daughters with her. After enlisting in the U.S. Army, he became a cook and saw the world. His wife of 17 years divorced him after he retired from the military. Soon after, she died of a brain aneurysm.

The older man kept talking about how he hated this city because of all the racial segregation and socio-economic prejudices. Of course, as I’ve mentioned before, I have noticed this as well. Since I have been contemplating the mysteries of racism (as mentioned in this previous post), I tried to pick Max’s brain for a couple of hours. I asked him what it was like, growing up black, in the South. Honestly, I’d read of a lot of these things in textbooks and seen it in movies, but I know that my understanding of racism is limited. Although I am Hispanic, you would never know it by looking at me because my skin is as white as any other “All-American” walking down the street.

Max told me that he didn’t understand prejudice until he was old enough to be insulted by cruel people. I heard about all the restaurants that had signs in the window that read, “No Coloreds Allowed.” He recounted the story of a time when he was a young child and his mother took him to buy a hotdog and a soda. They were allowed to order their food, but were not allowed to sit at a table inside the restaurant. So he and his mother had to take their food outside, and sit on the curb to enjoy their meal as best they could. I heard about the hospital in which he was born. It was directly across the street from a “Whites-Only” hospital. I learned that there was a time in which black men were arrested for walking on the wrong side of the street.

Once, as a teenager, Max befriended a white girl and brought her to join him at his house, to enjoy a glass of lemonade. When his mother came home she looked at the white girl and said, “I don’t mean no disrespect, but you gotta go.” Max said that this hurt him very much and he questioned his mother for having done this. After the girl had left, his mother explained that it was not socially acceptable for black boys and white girls to be friendly with one another. “It’s not the right timing,” she’d said. In that era, Max could have gotten into trouble (either with the law or with the girl’s parents) for having her in his house.

There were times when he’d been walking down the street and a car would pull up next to him. The passengers inside that vehicle would lean out of the window and loudly yell, “Get outta here nigger! You don’t belong here!” I asked him if this hurt his feelings, unsure if a man who was tough enough to enlist in the army would be phased by such blatant ignorance. There was sadness in his eyes as Max nodded his head. “I knew they were wrong,” he said, with a quivering voice, “but I can’t lie, it did hurt because of the hatred in their voices.”

Max was so happy and upbeat most of the time, however, that you wouldn’t know how much prejudice he’d faced in his lifetime. Truthfully, even in the moments when he spoke of the racism he’d experienced over the years, he kept his lively demeanor. The conversation ended when we both had to use the restroom. (After drinking coffee and water for so long, it’s gotta catch up to you.) We joined Matt and Lisa inside, until Gunther closed shop. Afterwards, the four of us made our way across the street, to Cheers.

While there, Max ran into an old friend whom I’ll call “Harrelson.” Upon laying eyes on each other, the two began to playfully wrestle around the restaurant, like teenagers. Harrelson ended up joining us at our booth, and we talked politics, religion, and of course the conversation about racial segregation continued. Harry is a bit older than Max, so he offered a different perspective on race. He told us all about a time when he’d been jumped and beaten by a few white college students at the school that he’d studied at. Again, I saw tears well up in the eyes of a grown man as he relived a terrible time of great pain in his life.

These men, both strong individuals with big brains and even bigger hearts, have seen so much in their lives. I’ve seen so much in mine. From meeting them, I learned that although we all have different plights in life, no one is exempt from pain. It is what we do with that pain that makes or breaks us. I’ve been running from my own demons, hideous things that I’ve witnessed in my past. In doing so, I forgot to smile. I forgot to let it roll off my shoulders. I don’t have to pretend it doesn’t still hurt, but I do have to adopt the right attitude.

The one word that Max kept repeating over and over again was, love. During our conversations, it was so apparent that he had this inherent love for all of humankind, despite any hardships that he’d experienced at the hands of cruel, prejudiced people. I couldn’t help but sit back, in awe, at the two men who seemed so forgiving and willing to befriend three young people with white skin. They seemed to appreciate the fact that I’d taken the time to ask them about their lives, to try to understand them.

Understanding Max and Harry came with a great deal of self awareness. Yes, I’ve been through trauma, I’ve seen things that I wish I hadn’t, people have royally fucked me over like you wouldn’t believe. Nonetheless, if these men could smile and joke around in an atmosphere that doesn’t seem to be welcoming of people different from themselves, if they could live as if the past weren’t a continual source of pain in the present…why can’t I? Suck it up, Wynona! You could have it worse, you could have it better. Either way, you HAVE it and that’s that. Grin and bear it. Find things to smile about. It’s so much better than sitting around, moping. If they could be so accepting of my differences, and if I could be so accepting of theirs, why on earth hasn’t the rest of the world caught up?

“Ebony And Ivory Live Together In Perfect Harmony
Side By Side On My Piano Keyboard, Oh Lord, Why Don’t We?

We All Know That People Are The Same Where Ever We Go
There Is Good And Bad In Ev’ryone,
We Learn To Live, We Learn To Give
Each Other What We Need To Survive Together Alive.”

Ebony and Ivory, Stevie Wonder and Sir Paul McCartney

“Nants Ingonyama Bagithi Baba” (“Here Comes A Lion, Father”)!

Mike stayed with me over the weekend. Usually when he comes over, all he wants to do is to close himself away in my bedroom and be anti-social as he watches videos on my computer. Since this is often easier on me than having to entertain him for two or three whole days, I have let it happen for the past few months. One of the last weekends he spent with me, I discovered that Mike seemed to greatly enjoy being around friends and family, being treated the same as everyone else. (Read the whole story, in context, here.) Being autistic, he scarcely exhibits interest in anyone other than himself. So when I realized that he had fun, hanging out with people who treated him as if he did not have any impediment, I decided to carry on with my normal activities, bringing him along with me and engaging him as I would anyone else.

Here are some things that you need to know, to understand the story I’m about to tell… So this guy had contacted me over social media, a few weeks ago, and wanted to promote my show to the local community. Apparently, Gunther told “Tucker” how to get in touch with me because Tucker has also been performing, regularly, at Central Perk. Although we’d agreed to promote each others’ shows, we didn’t meet in person until this past weekend. Tucker contacted me to find out if I wanted to be a featured performer at his event, and I agreed. I tried to get the entire Cast out that night, but no one else showed up, because of scheduling conflicts, so it was just Mike and I.

So, back to the actual story… My brother and I sat at a table together, and watched the show until it was my turn to get up there and perform for an audience with no familiar faces. Can you say nerve wracking?? Truthfully, I felt a little out of place at first. The crowd was made up of mostly black people, with Mike and I being the only two out of four “white” people, as I’ve come to understand is what people think of our outer appearances (we’re white Hispanics). Unfortunately this new city is so racially segregated. To my surprise, everyone was very welcoming of me and of Mike’s eccentricities.

First of all, there were artists there who spoke the message of “Black Lives Matter” in an uplifting way that I was totally and completely in agreement with. One woman got up on stage and spoke a poem that she’d written, called, “I’m Not Anti-White, I’m Just Really Really Really Pro-Black.” She talked about being proud of her culture and her heritage, about loving who she is and not apologizing for being “too dark” or not using curling cream on her hair because she’s proud of her natural afro. I thought to myself, “This is exactly the kind of “Black Lives Matter” thinking that I can get down with.” The experience opened my eyes to the actual issue at hand, which is that everyone should be proud of where they come from. To say that you don’t see the color of someone’s skin, is essentially saying that you don’t recognize the attributes that make them who they are.

Now, when the time came for me to perform, I got up there and swooned out a couple of cover songs. The last song that I performed was one of my original compositions. Since I’d left Mike unattended for a few minutes, he had become a bit restless and had no one to remind him that he needed to keep quiet during performances. So, in the middle of the song, he started belting out the opening sequence of The Lion King, distracting me from the music. In true show-business-fashion, I didn’t stop until I finished the song, all while Mike sang out a completely different tune.

I ended the song by saying, “I apologize for my autistic brother.” I’ve learned to apologize and explain Mike’s “situation,” because many people have become offended by him, thinking that he is being rude or making fun of them. To my delight, everyone in the audience immediately began to clap, but it was not for me…it was for Mike! Any other person might be upset that their younger brother “stole” their spotlight, but I was just so overwhelmed with gratitude for their understanding and acceptance of the special guy I have loved since I was two years old.

On this evening, because of the choice of song, and the crowd we were surrounded by, anyone could have taken offense…as if Mike had meant something deeper…something charged with racism. However several people, that night, told me never to apologize for my brother. I was told that I should be proud of his differences. Several people came and sat at our table, just to try to get to know Mike. He acquired a bigger fan base than I did, that night!

"From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round"
                   -Circle of Life, Elton John

The happenings of that whole evening were completely in line with each other. These people taught me the true meaning of acceptance. Acceptance is not loving someone despite their flaws or their differences. It is actually loving the differences themselves. If I want to love Mike wholeheartedly, I cannot expect him to become more like me. Instead, I should be looking for ways to love and encourage the eccentricities that make him Mike. If white people want to claim that they love black people, then they need to love and encourage the things that make them black…like the awesome curls, the darkness of their skin, their speech patterns, the foods they eat, and all other cultural ideals that they share. That is true acceptance; the celebration of differences.

"It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life"

I wasn’t sure how people liked me, that evening, because they seemed to love Mike so much. I figured, if anything, we’d be going back to events like these so that people could hang out with my brother. I find great comfort in that. Most of his life, my family and only the closest family friends have actually paid any attention to him. Knowing that there are so many strangers in this world who could see how amazing he is makes me intensely happy.

After the show ended, though, Tucker approached me and told me that he was blown away by my voice. I hadn’t expected this, since I’d been distracted and hadn’t even really prepared for a performance. When I asked him if he’d gotten any feedback from other audience members, he said that everybody seemed to love me. Maybe it’s my low self-esteem, but I never think that anyone likes me or thinks I’m talented. The truth is that I don’t see what most people see in “Wynona.” My mother recently explained to me that I bare my soul when I sing, whether it’s a cover or an original, so that’s why people think they know me even if we’ve never met before.

The truth is that I don’t actually believe that there’s anything terribly good to about me to like. I tend to make friends because I have this incessant party animal inside of me. Depression is just a trigger for a week-long, manic rampage. I’m not Bipolar, several doctors have ruled that out over the years. I actually have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which also incites mania and can masquerade as Bipolar. (I’ll talk about all of this in a later post.) The bottom line is that the appeal of my charm is simply that I know how to have fun, with or without drugs and alcohol, and the people who enjoy hanging out with me feel that way because I come across as free-spirited. In actuality, I’m just fucked up inside, and use fun to mask the inner turmoil.

It’s taking time to get used to life in a new state. The gratitude that I hold in my heart, for the people who have begun supporting and encouraging me, is immeasurable. What I’ve learned from the people in my new community has been that we all just need to support one another through the Circle of Life…

"And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life"

It’s Far From Over

Tell me, do you ever feel this way too?

“I know way too many people here right now that I didn’t know last year
who the fuck are y’all?
I swear it feels like the last few nights we’ve been everywhere and back
but I just can’t remember it all
what am I doing, what am I doing?
oh yeah thats right, I’m doing me, I’m doing me
I’m living life right now man
and this what I’m do ’til it’s over
’til it’s over, it’s far from over

Alright, bottles on me
long as someone drink it
never drop the ball, fuck y’all thinking
making sure the young money ship is never sinking
bout to set it off in this bitch Jada Pinkett
I shouldn’t have drove, tell me how I’m getting home
you too fine to be laying down in bed alone
I can teach you how to speak my language Rosetta stone
I swear this life is like the sweetest thing I’ve ever known
got to go thriller Mike Jackson on these n’ggas
all I need is a fucking red jackets with some zippers
super good smidoke a package of the swishas
I did it over night, it couldn’t happen any quicker
y’all know them, but fuck it me either
but point the biggest skeptic out I’ll make them a believer
it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it throwing hundreds
when I should be throwing ones bitch I run it ahh

I know way too many people here right now that I didn’t know last year
who the fuck are y’all?
I swear it feels like the last few nights we’ve been everywhere and back
but I just can’t remember it all
what am I doing, what am I doing?
oh yeah thats right, I’m doing me, I’m doing me
I’m living life right now man
and this what I’m do ’til it’s over
’til it’s over, it’s far from over

Uhhh,
one thing bout music when it hits you feel no pain
and I swear I got this shit that makes these bitches go insane
so they tell me that they love me I know better than that it’s just game
it’s just what comes from fame
and I’m ready for that I’m just saying
I really can’t complain, everything is kosher
two thumbs up, ebert and roeper
I really can’t see the end getting any closer
but I’ll probably still be the man when everything is over
so I’m riding through the city with my high beams on
can you see me can you see me get your visine on
y’all just do not fit the picture
turn your widescreen on
if you thinking Imma quit before I die dream on
man they treat me like a legend
am I really this cold
I’m really too young to be feeling this old
it’s about time you admit it who you kidding man
nobody’s ever done it like I did it
ahh

Over, Drake

I Love Ruby!

This morning I woke up to Ruby’s friendly face. Leave it to my best friend to let herself into my home and feed me breakfast in bed. Of course, the breakfast she served me was just the diet shake that I drink every morning, and it was already in my apartment. Nonetheless it was a fantastic start to my day. Have I mentioned how much I love Ruby?

She stayed for about two hours. Halfway through our time together, I began to realize that my conversation topics seemed to be random and varied. Upon observing my own self-centered behavior, always turning the focus back to me, I apologized to my kindred spirit. “That’s alright,” she waved off my sorry, “I’m used to it by now, and I love you anyways.”

It was at this moment that I realized that I can be a little scatterbrained. Thankfully, I have amazing friends, but I am learning that I jump from the one story to the next, dwelling on my own emotional turmoil, leaving other conversationalists confused or frustrated.

Maybe the only way to remedy this problem is to slow my mind. The racing thoughts need to be quieted. I’m starting to do this through strengthening local friendships and distracting myself from the internal angst. I’m beginning to understand that there’s nothing to be anxious about anymore.

“I’m walking out in a force ten gale
Birds thrown around, bullets for hail
The roof is pulling off by its fingernails
Your voice is rattlin’ on my window sill
Yesterday’s headlines blown by the wind
Yesterday’s people end up scatterbrained
Any fool can easy pick a hole I only wish I could fall in
A moving target in a firing range
Somewhere I’m not
Scatterbrain
Somewhere I’m not
Scatterbrain
Lightning fuse, powercut
Scatterbrain”

Scatterbrain, Radiohead