newest
older
profile
guestbook
e-mail
dgdesigns
host
2003-06-21 4 6:06 p.m.
"i put it all down w/in these hallowed pages 'cuz i wanna understand myself, i wanna explain it and find reasons and make logic out've it...and i'm scared...'cuz as much as i think and contemplate and marinate on the whole sht, reason and logic eludes me..."
-- Me, Feburary 2002.
sumtimes, i dunno.
i'm better when i'm grounded spiritually but i never seem 2 attain "best". that's become a frustration of mine. i miss the mark time & time again -- i feel like a frickin' mark, except i aint getting played. the kid is playing himself.
"i need f'all a y'all 2 feel what i'm going thru/to see what i see/if you got time, then take a walk w/ me..."
sum'ns always wrong y'know?
dazed & directionless is how i feel so often; just a blind cat making his way thru the tunnel by feeling out the cracks, & trying not 2 stumble. i write & write but if i was honest, i'd have 2 say that it ain't no bloody therapy man. that's what we all say -- i'd go nuts if i wasn't writing. i'd go up the wall, bananas, round the frickin' bend but dude: i been there. shoot, i'm still there...
i'm trying, i tell ya.
i'm trying.
we had a car wash...2 raise $ for missions in latin america, & it was ill but...half the time, i was just sitting on the curb staring @ the pavement by myself. just tryna deal. & it almost feels like that's all my life is finna be -- dealing. just getting by, until the next calamity or major crash. until the next slash, the next bad week or month or tough time that i get laid in my path. nothing'll happen that doesn't get approval from my bwoy upstairs, but the stuff is still laid out 4 me 2 experience.
the analogy is SO fitting:
i DO feel like that athlete always playing w/ the battered body; the bball player w/ the bum knee, the tennis player w/ the tore up elbow. never playing @ 100%.
i met this cat on wednesday.
@ church, duke just walked up 2 me outta the blue & we started pollying. been a disciple going on 2 years -- manic frickin' depressive. not depressed, dude. manic. delusions, hospitals, the whole 9. hallucinating like whoa. just tore up, but what he said killed me: w/out God, he didn't know where he'd be. like he has sum'n 2 get him thru his breakdowns. i dunno how i would be able 2 handle walking around w/ my brain producing chemicals akin to LSD & flipping like that, but duke is the coolest u'll ever meet.
fight 4 relationships, he said.
get out & give of yrself.
the scars r deep, man. these ain't no papercuts. but as always, it's bigger than me.
*sigh*. i owe u an email, sky, i know.
potential, yo. potential.
"let's continue walking; i know you ain't tired already."