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It is what the fuck it is...


I often wonder what my dog thinks of me. Does he look at me and think how pitiful I am? Or does he see me as one of those people he just can't wait to jump up on and love all over?  I hope it's the latter but I'll never truly know.

People are different. I don't understand people as a whole. As individuals, I can get to know and love them. But, as a group - mankind - I can't fuck with it!

I  know... I'm crazy! I get it. I got it. But now what? What am I supposed to do? Trust my own judgment? I can't do that now, because I know that's not normal and hasn't been for quite a while. Or at least that's the message I get from the mirror the world hold's up to me.

Yes. I'm angry. I know why, and at the same time I don't. I know why I think I'm angry. I know what makes me upset now. But, I would be lying if I said that I know what created such anger in me. I would be lying if I said I haven't known anger before any other real human emotion other than love. In a way, my anger is the same as love, because I only get angry when I love someone or something enough to take a stand. In my mind, taking a stand for something or someone means throwing the rules of being a gentleman out the window.  In a moment of anger I am no longer a Christian or a scholar. In that moment, all I feel is rage. My heart pumps. My hands shake. I get anxious and excited for all the wrong reasons.

That shit scares me because talking about it even makes me feel the emotions.

I don't want to be that guy, though. I don't want to be the person who's friends and family don't know what to say because they're afraid they might be the one to send me off the deep end. That shit sucks. It hurts to know that people love and care for me and they aren't able to express how they really feel because of their fear for what it might cause me to do.

When did this shit happen to me? Did I do it to myself? Did I do something to someone else and is this my punishment?

I'll probably never know the answers to those questions, and accepting that is a large part of moving the fuck on. That... I do know!

I'm tired and frustrated. Depressed. Probably a bit bitter, too. But, that's just what it's going to have to be for the moment. At least I'm honest enough with myself and the world to search myself and admit how broken I am. It's not an admission of guilt or even disclosure of a weakness, it simply is what the fuck it is.


Comments

  1. Be encouraged. I hope your boyfriend is still around: he seems to keep you balanced and focused. I love you. Be blessed ;0) #trayvon

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"Better You Than Me"

Maybe you can help me better understand
Why you act like a little boy and not a grown ass man
You try to run the TV, all day stuck on BOUNCE
And you're a fiend for the coffee, always begging for an ounce
You've claimed more than once all you do is "get money"
But I see you in here with nothing, so something is funny
At the top of your lungs you holler and yell
But make an excuse for your behavior, saying "This is jail."
You've got 6 kids, and 4 baby mamas
But you beg me for a click so you can call and cause drama.
You claim to be hard, snatching ass every day
But you expect me to be polite in all that I say
You're on your way back to prison and it's so sad to see
But I'd rather it be you going up the road than me.