 |
|
 |
|
 Latest
|
Diaryland |
|
2002-12-11 - 8:44 a.m. I broke down yesterday. I haven't registered for classes. My dad acted, well, like my dad. The thing that sticks out in my head is Aesop's Fables. He told me, "You can't go bundling your sticks (your problems), you gotta break them one at a time." Why do I keep things in all the time? Well, I'm trying to get at least one more semester in, in order to keep me as a dependent when I'm getting all this Bi-pap sleep stuff. That's the first thing I gotta do. My dad said to me straight up, he'd support me fully if I had a plan-college or no college. I got a whole summer to decide. Just as long as hang in there for a little while longer. He even talked about supporting us if John and I got an apartment and he said he'd even front me money to buy video equipment or produce any show/projects that the fellas and I put on. To think, I was just gonna walk too. Walk right out the door, with a backpack and maybe 700 dollars, and a change or two of clothes. For awhile I thought that was the only option. I was too ashamed, afraid, scared, but at the same time, I didn't want anyone involved. I wanted to be free, but I'd still feel like shit. No matter what I do and where I went it would of rubbed off onto people. People would of been concerned, worried, angry. All the things I didn't want people to feel about me. I just figured being alone and walking the earth was I guess noble and cool. Shit will be there, shit is a fact of life. I always argued about this, I wanted to know why? things had to be this way. Then they'd build up on me and eventually overwhelmed me. Shouting "Why" into the darkness doesn't get you answers. It's something I gotta work through, one battle at a time, to get to the promised land. For the longest time, I thought the wall was too high to scale, too thick to breakthrough, and I couldn't see anything on that other side. I've just been pouting. Thinking I'm alone. Thinking myself into a coma. Nick IMed later in the night, we talked about love and life. He told me Punch Drunk Love sums up his take on it. I complimented Nick on his recent pursuits, the man has been on a mission lately. I told him he was "Walking on water." Something put a fire under that kid's ass I tell you. He said, "Mike you constantly talk about evolving." and I replyed, "Yeah, I do, 'cause I haven't in a long, long time." He said he stopped watching TV and that helped him do all this stuff. I'm electing to do the same. I need to get down in the basement more. Fuck TV, it's a buncha bullshit anyways, things I've already saw, and I was be snackin hard watching some TV, or should I say looking for something to watch on TV, which seems to be always the case since Monster Garage, the Simpsons, and Iron Chef aren't playing 24-7. Anyways, one stick to break, I got to start fucking up this bundle. One at a time and I must remember I'm not alone in this stick breaking. We're all cracking them bitches, twigs to big ass branches across our heads, knees, and backs. In the mean time, I gotta practice for this Freestyle battle I'm spinning at in Frostburg. I bought 88 dollars worth of new instrumentals at MUSIC LIBERATED, the best music store in Bmore for all your vinyl needs and one of the only places to get Bmore club. The cool thing about this whole DJ thing is that I'm getting paid son! WOO HOO! I'd do this shit for negative 5 dollars too. Silly college, I'm gonna just use that money for booze and gas. I can't wait to see the my mountain peeps again. Get drunk, maybe even high, tell stories. Good times, good times.
|
|
 |
|
