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2003-03-28 4 9:15 p.m.
i am a boy pretending 2b a man pretending 2b alive. a cadaver among u...i reek of rancor & rebellion. the noose is 4 decoration. it unsettles u & that's enuff decorum 4 me. i think i've grown a lot since i've been here...in the last year & a half, or 4 semesters i guess. in many ways...but perhaps the most significant is that i've grown 2 learn, or have some hazy, generalized idea of who i want 2b. not as a profession but as a person. as a human being... & that encompasses all. everything... dress, taste, attitudes, influences, direction, character, personality & even beliefs... it's been...rough(?) for me. not a pleasant few months, not a pleasant few last weeks either. there's still so much abt myself i don't understand & i'm searching to comprehend...still figuring out. & it's hard 2 articulate what isn't yet lucid 2 u...2 others in a meaningful way. & i'm sure a select few genuinely do want 2 know...want 2 hear...want 2 have it explained 2 them; who am i? what am i abt? y am i feeling this way? what have i been going thru? then again, for many, it's just 4 the sake of cordiality or morbid curiosity...both of which sicken me. when u look 4 excuses, u find them. i think i've always known that but never meditated much upon it. it's profound; @ least 2 a person like me...w/ a thousand & one forces & influences upon my life. i'm in my element @ a keyboard. that's another thing i've always known...the computer world, & more specifically the 'Net...being "on_line" is being in my element. that's y it's a cinch 2 siphon bio_sci software off the machines in the complab 4 Patrice 2 do her homewk in her dormroom w/. that's y i have ppl in my life that only exist b/c we exchanged ideas by punching keys. that's y i have more CD's on my computer than in my caselogic sleeve. that's y i have... pCes of me... ...not poetry, but me...myself, my essence, who i am...scattered abt in cyberspace...in the minds of various ppl...on msg boards & self-constructed websites...pages where 10, 12 ppl visit a day. shards of shraphnel & debris...a veritable hansel/gretel trail of breadcrumbs that i myelf haven't yet followed all the way round...2 discover the real me. i've inspired many...i've also bored many...offended many...perplexed, confused, intimidated, encouraged, spurred on many... a diverse list of accomplishments, but the sum of their parts is more than the unified whole they represent; which really isn't anything @ all. after all that influence, impact & effect...what i have i accomplished? obtained? left behind, but memories & phantom's figments in the heads of "friends"? when u look 4 excuses, u find them. what's my excuse 4 not succeeding? none of them make sense...i think optimism concerning the future {or what i might term optimism, but may be more akin 2 resigned anticipation/expectancy} is all i'm holding on2 right now, & that's what getting me thru these things. these things that nobody around me can either understand...or muster enuff care abt 2 stop & smell the rotting blossoms that i present 2 them. a sickly sweet enigmatic aroma. it's a bigger problem, it always is. i've been pushing 3, 4 hrs of sleep each night 4 the last couple of days...just running myself in2 the ground b/c sch & insomnia own me. i find myself sitting in front of a computer screen really...doing nothing & feeling nothing except "lost". this imbalance w/in me... that hasn't been there 4 so long, & then it just struck months ago & it's had me in its grip ever since. like i'm abt 2 fall off the precipice & yet i dont...i haven't @ least. & that's the most i can say... anyday u meet me, that's the most i can say; how am i doing? well, just @ this present pinpoint moment in time...i haven't yet fallen off. how does one redeem oneself? or does one? i don't know. lol, i know i'm not where i need 2b tho'...that much is clear as Aquamarine even. i skipped outta the retreat we were havin' up in the Borough this weekend. trying 2 take from the experience what i can -- learn my loneliness...make it my comfort rather than my curse, perhaps. the sickness is taking its toll on me...2b physically ill as well as mentally messed up...deadly combination. very much so. "...i'm a basket-case; don't ever give this bastard space..." (c) FatJoe. this is my metaphor: this is my microcosm: i'm not disillusioned w/ hiphop, i'm just growing. ack like u understand...over...& out.
