I.E. - The worst excuse to punk out of living your life.
Regardless of the decisions you make on this earth, simply by sucking air you’ve already joined the ranks of hundreds of thousands of statistics around the globe. You’re a +1 to the amount of children born in your era, to your ethnicity, to your neighborhood, your school, your hair color, your eye color, whether you’re left or right handed, your taste in music, philosophy, sexuality, whatever.
We come in this world as another number, so why let that dictate what you choose to do?
I’m a sucker for my own imagination, and I get got by my own mind every single time.
Rarely do I get overly excited for anything, but every once in awhile, something slight happens; something someone says, a look in someone’s eye, something I read, a brief gut feeling, whatever it is, I can’t control how hard I latch onto it. Before I can blink, my head has already crafted an alternate reality where everything pertaining that certain something happens oh-so-perfectly, and my life gets just that much better.
Boom. All of a sudden, expectations reach astronomical heights, and I’m on a crash-course with disappointment.
I figured out the pattern when I was younger, so while I can’t control the almost insane amount of excitement I generate internally, I try to keep a level head around friends and associates, and refrain from hyping certain somethings up around them. When my ship sinks, no one is any wiser to what happened, save for the occasional soul I choose to temporarily confide in. Oh, but when that ship sinks, it hits deep.
seem like the “tramp stamp” of goonies in terms of cliche-ness. EVERYbody knows atleast a dozen and half chicks with a lower back tattoo. And I know atleast a dozen and a half niggas with fuckin cobwebs on his elbow. That’s a serious fucking problem. Or it would be for me… I mean like when you see…
Took a lot out of me, but I told her that I wouldn’t rest until I could take care of her, my sister, my father, my brothers, and anyone else who’d need it. Once upon a time she told me that she’d never see her debt paid off in her lifetime. I promised that she wouldn’t be allowed to leave this earth until I made it all go away.
I told her I’d make her proud, and my word is bond.
I hate when I get little sleep, because when I wake up, everything is so surreal I can’t tell what’s reality and what’s my own imagination.
Case in point, I woke up about six times in the last two hours. Each time, I had to let an entire scenario play out before I became aware of my physical body, and realized I was still in a dream(s). The process of finally waking up was more of a struggle than it should have been.
At first, my alarm went off. I got up, and everything was going according to the plan I’d laid out for myself last night. My boy came to pick me up, and we made a pit stop at his place. Before I know it, I’m in this dystopian-style desolate jungle area, still worrying about heading to an interview. It wasn’t until I saw a Facebook friend that I know I’ve never met in person before I snapped out of that one… and fell right into another. Waking up from one dream just to be in another dream is no joke.
Mildly bitter with an associate of mine at the moment.
Dude is supposedly giving me the hook up on another internship opportunity. I’m like “Swag, yo. I’m all over that.”
But this shit is due today.
I’m up right now filling out the form, then I gotta steal my dad’s laptop to print the joint, and figure out where my unofficial transcript is online. All in enough time to sleep, wake up, dress professionally, and hand it in.
I know very little about French cinema, but this movie was pretty ill to me.
As a kid who used to still watches corny wire-kung-fu movies with his grandpa, I’m an old school fan of classic, senseless action, violence and fancy acrobatics. So it’s as if this movie caters specifically towards that kind of fandom.
If you love watching guys make insane leaps and flips through rooftops, and some snazzy mixed martial arts choreography, I suggest checking this one out.
“Because I don’t live in either my past or my future. I’m interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you’ll be a happy man. You’ll see that there is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, and that tribesmen fight because they are part of the human race. Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we’re living right now”— The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho (via jeansandsneakers)
As of now, I work as a server at a local restaurant out here in Fort Washington, and today I pulled a double shift for the hell of it.
One of my customers (who happens to be a regular) caught me completely off guard today, though. Before I even had the chance to give him the regular rehearsed introduction/drink order, he springs into life and damn near shouts “So what’s your major, young man?”
Before I even had a chance to react, I ended up giving him the cliffnotes version of my academic uncertainty, how I’m hanging in between two majors and all.
And he gave me the realest advice I’ve ever heard. Dude looks at me, without missing a beat, and goes:
"Screw love. Make money."
My jaw went slack. In no way, shape or form was I expecting that response.
We proceeded to have a mind-altering conversation. I ended up almost completely ignoring my other table just to talk to him.
I’m this much closer to finally figuring out how this degree thing will work.