Mike

He was slamming down his fourth tequila shot, having learned how to drink in college, he worried not about vomiting or being sick later on, he knew how to hold his alcohol.  As expected, tipsiness knocked on his door, and he let him in, he did call it after all.  See, Mike couldn’t talk to girls if he weren’t tipsy; he once told me “man I feel all stiff if I am not drinking, I need that sweet social lubricant to get me going”, so Mike was now tipsy, and on his game.  The figure that followed Mike into his apartment had been giving him good vibes all night, Mike knew that, and he also knew the rules of the game.  Hence, he tangoed accordingly, thus providing him with the opportunity to slip inside the crevices of another faceless sweet looking body; after all, quantity was quality.  She smelled good Mike thought, very feminine despite being tall, she was graceful and had a tight body, with a little apple butt.  All the prerequisites for an awesome night of pelvic bumping was met, it was on.  While in the process of getting comfortable, she whispered into him that they shouldn’t cause her flow was heavy, he cursed, and said that was no problem if she had no problem.  She took his face away from hers, and whispered “it is a problem, but” and the alternative was proposed.  Having memory knowledge of where the KY was, Mike nodded, and whispered, “I’ll be gentle”, she said, “Don’t”.  Following this exchange they went on creating noise in the night, similar to a wrestling match, they both ended up sweaty, exhausted, and sore.

The next morning Mike woke up with a smile on his face, that smile faded away quickly when he saw the face of a stranger staring at him, eyes open, and waiting for Mike to do likewise.  Automatically Mike started thinking about the best way to lead her out of the apartment, for he couldn’t stand the aftermath of the one-night stands.  As Mike rubbed the sand out of his eyes, he got a clearer picture of the stranger, it was man.  Mike jumped up, in a voice unrecognizable to him, he screamed, “What the fuck”?  

Knock, knock

It’s early, and I’ve got a ton to do; however, that will not keep me from babbling on about a life that feels like too small a shoe. 

I keep having weird dreams, past girls keep showing up, well one is a permanent ghost in my plethora of dying memories, though pieces of her keeps fading away, the core still lingers around.  It’s like she finds new block of undiscovered, yet forgotten, events to attached herself to, and ride them out as I purge this living database I keep upstairs.  What on earth does that mean, I know the girl I knew died a long time ago, died when the next man climaxed in her, but why does my mind keep bringing her figure in front of my mirror?  I should leave it alone, I should let it go, but that’s not in my nature, I’ll get back in contact, and I’ll ask weird off the cuff questions to see what the hidden forces are up to.  One thing I know for sure is that following death, there is always birth; could she have been reborn in with the traits of my “glass case theory girl” like Tessa would say?  I will forget that I wrote this down, and take refuge in my 1’s and 0’s. 

Bitch

Life is a bictch, and she'll get on your ass if you don't feed her right. Once again, I am back, got three hours of sleep the night before, plus the 45 minutes I got at lunch time, I am ready to learn baby, bring on the mid-terms. My life went from relatively comfortable, to unbarable in a matter of fucking months. I got to go now, they are calling for the missing

part

"They were playing footsy under the table, just like in the movies. The guys were too lost in their Monday night football conversation to notice their wives loud silence. The waiter however had noticed, he didn't know exactly what it was, but he knew that something was happening at the corner table where the young couples sat. They looked young to him, but in reality, this pair of pair had been together for over thirteen years, and things were becoming stale. The ease into the routine had become the style of life for all of them; Mary, Tom's better half was progressing at the predicted rate in her government job, she was now a GS 12 and was looking at a 13 position. Tom's business was neither good or bad, just steady you could say, just like Tom, steady and even. Actually they called him 'Even Stephen' because of his monotonic lifestyle, car, demeanor, and everything else"

Yep

Suprisingly we've gotten another break, I think the guys have too much time, they are ahead of schedule and would like to stretch it out as far as they can. Because of the break, and the mountain dew, I am currently awake, but that will change soon enough, I hope. Yes, hope, cause I really want to sleep; it's such a beautiful day to just let yourself fall, just fall, and let the sandman take you away. Three more minutes then I have to go back, and pretend that I care about what the group, or anyone else has to say. I bitch a lot, in my head, I am a bitcher, bitch, bitch, bitch, about everything and anything. Am I that negative, and for the record, I don't think we ever made it to the moon; it was a clever ruse used by the people in government at the time to cause the russians to come down.

It's after lunch now, and we've gotten a break, in about 20 minutes I'll feel the need to close my eyes and sleep. I need sun man, sunlight is important to me, as important as air. I am sure that's why I go into hibernation when the sun doesn't shine.

Classing

Just for the record, I am stuck in a class that is feeding me information that I’ll probably never use. That’s how I spend my days now, stuck in a place that’s giving information that I will probably use once in the next two years.
I was in class yesterday, and I was falling asleep. I tried fighting, but it was a useless effort cause I ended up almost banging my head on the table. Often, when I travel between the dream world and reality, a certain part of my body reacts in a way that’s comforting, yet confusing at the same time. I have three more minutes before break is over, I ought to post this up before I am commended back to my seat.

Y E A yeah

I should be sleeping, I know, but I am not. I know a lot of things, but often they don't matter cause I listen to my body with way more attention that I do other things, sometimes.

This freaking presentation is turning out to be a headache, I wasn't anticipating it being one, but now it is cause not everyone really dug deep. Anyway, I'll just have to find a work around.

I am feeling really weird now, at this very moment I am feeling weird, nostalgic, quiet, reflective, and inquisitive. Words that have come to define feelings, they want to be universal, the meaning of the word wants to be universal, but it can't be cause my idea of what nostalgia is, is slightly different than yours, and the next guy is slightly different than both of ours. So, by the time you get to the sixth guy, nostalgia doesn't mean nostalgia anymore, it means regret. At any rate, I guess this came about after I read from my old journal. It's crazy how much I've lived, experienced, felt, and I still hunger for more. We are human, we are design to never be happy, never be content. Or maybe is it that we need to feel that way in order to feel alive, feel something.

I feel like writing a song, I don't know what the beat would be exactly, but it would be something slow, and intriguing. Sounds that would constantly knock at your heart, and head, causing you to feel something other than happiness or sadness, something in the gray part. I sometimes get mad at my parents for not giving me enough, yet they've given me so much. My kids, that's if God chooses to trust me with any, will probably say the same shit about me. We are ungrateful fuckers man, we forget the good so easily, but remember the bad forever, what a fucking race we are.

"Y E A, yeah, you can get it"

It's 9:37

Music, the forever drug, addictive like nothing else you’ve seen.  The power of repetition is underestimated by so many, if only they knew that when they say it enough time, they become it, they would start talking.

“It’s my brother’s black and blue NorthStar coat, I recognized it by the loose zipper on the left pocket that he never bothered to fix.  It was hanging in her closet.  Why was it in her closet?  She had been very kind lately, almost sweet; it was a departure from her character, but I didn’t find it strange cause I was enjoying it too much.  I was grateful for the change, hence, didn’t question it.  I didn’t wonder why she had cooked dinner four times this week, and why she had made love to me the slow passionate way I like this morning.  I don’t to let those thoughts enter my head, but it’s too late, I’ll have to find out why his coat is in her closet.”  

Reality of fiction

I found out last night that I missed a deal on slickdeal.net, that kind of pissed me off, cause I really could have used that computer.  At any rate, I woke up with Cameron on my mind, that song ‘tony yayo’ came to me, and wouldn’t leave.  I don’t like the winter, yesterday was shocking reminder of how unkind this season can be, and judging from what I’ve felt, and seen, it’s going to be a harsh one. 

“This is all superficial stuff, when do we get to really explore the depth of your soul?” 

I could so easily let myself go, so easily fall for it all, but I won’t.  I will not because once you do, it’s 8 times harder to get back.  It’s easier to stay on top than it is to make it from the bottom.

“The look she gave me held nothing less than pure desire.  I was the object of her obsession and I was scared.  It was my first time being the prey, and as expected I had no idea how keep her from breaking my skin, because I had always been on the other side.”

“He was twenty-one and was still looking for a handle on it all.  How many times had he had crushes on girls, he knew what they felt like, but never understood why they came to be.  Once again he could feel his tongue freeze, the weight of it would keep him from saying anything remotely coherent, understandable, or amusing.  He was doomed from the fact that he liked her, liked her so much.  It was ironic that his need to be with her was the single thing that kept him from approaching her.  How was her ever going to break the cycle, how was he ever going to inform her, and the world of this abundance of love that resided in his loins”. 

Short

A four-day weekend left me with little motivation for this Monday of a Tuesday.  I have to gather my strength and push forward in this struggle for a better life, aka a 42’’ Plasma HDTV 400 Watts 5.1 stereo system life style.  A lot of things happen over the weekend, a mostly good, yeah, definitely.  Still, I only remember the not so good things; they stick with you for a longer period of time.  I ought to leave this blogger alone and get back to real life.     

Check-Oetry

Own need

By the selfishness that resides in me

I now pronounce myself human

This need for my needs

Is the reason I, now, am ahead

Survival depends on desire

Desire spawned from greed

May God bless me

And fuck the rest

I am the perfect American

Taste

I can taste it, I can taste the toothpaste in the back on my throat.  I can’t describe how I hate being disturbed by work.  I could be, should be, in bed; instead, I am seating in cubical land watching ones and zeros represent my thoughts.  I had to wake up at an ungodly hour to shower and brush my teeth so that I could be here, here, where the fuck is here anyway, and I can taste the freaking toothpaste.  If there’s going to be one reoccurring theme in this blog, it will be that I hate waking up early to be at work.  It’s not that I don’t enjoy work, or that I am lazy, I just hate waking up early.  It’s inhuman, it’s barbaric, it’s wrong.  I was talking to a friend recently, and we wondered if people spent most of their time doing what they didn’t want to do, but needed to do.  We both agreed that we followed that insane of a rule.  So, as a result of this two people survey I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone follow this rule, I’ll even call it an axiom.  The whole thought is malformed cause tomorrow is not promise, yet we suffer now so to guaranty a better tomorrow. 

I can’t learn a single bleeping thing from some people around me, it’s quiet ridiculous.  Why would I spend my time with you, just tell me why?  I am trying to grow, I am trying to become a stronger, faster, better human being, not only physically, but mentally.  So, how are you going to contribute to my growth?

Tell Me

I've poured myself in my rhymes; now in my rhymes I seek guidance. The forbidden: thoughts of flooding her body with joy, prior to destroying her being with pain. Better it is not to have ever known such ache, and even greater it is for you not to be the messenger. Why am I thinking about it so much? Is it because it is to be..., she's so soft, so sweet, so ready, so. Should I be the one to introduce her to this world of hurt? You tell me.

Can't Think

Here she goes again, and my stomach is revolting.  I can’t think, I can’t think I can not think with this woman blabbering on about some insignificant event.  I want to leave but I can’t leave because of the social structure, because of the demanding eyes of society, because I want to attain my goal.  ‘Please hand me the bottle, I think I’m falling now’, I have to cut the grass, will have to eventually.

What causes someone to betray another one who cares about them?  She was smelling like passion smells when it has been tainted, the chaos found within her careless action was unknown to her.  It’s 8:41, what’s ever happened at such an hour.

It's late, and I am sleepy, very sleepy. I am not going to leave much in here, cause most of it wouldn't' t make sense anyway. I have a song in my head, and I can't put it down on paper, it's as useless as a used condom to the rest of the world. What's in my head, is well, in my head, and it won't come out if I don't want to share it. I saw this documentary the other day about the Vietnam war called 'Hearts and Minds', and I causing me to think about the war in Iraq. So many things are similar that I wish I am wrong. My eyes are playing tricks on me, the monitor screen is not vibrating, but to me it's going left to right, left to right, left to right.
Dave keep your head up buddy, we win some, we lose some, but we keep fighting for another chance at happiness.

Shades Are Off

I woke up tired this morning, yes, again.  I guess I’ll do the catch up over the weekend; it’s unfair when a man’s life can be attacked like that by insomnia.  Though I am tired, I don’t feel bad about it, I am not angry, or unhappy.  I should be crazy mad after seeing what I’ve seen last night.  The confirmation that life is not as sweet as it seems, the confirmation that things aren’t, haven’t been, and may never be kosher.  The only issue now is how do I go about obtaining the freedom that I need?  What would you do if you knew you were on the wrong side, but because you were so ingrained in the mix that it would require the lost of limbs to detach yourself from it all.  I guess most of us would say fuck it, and keep gaining on the wrong side.  I don’t want to do that I can’t do that.  So, I must come up with a solution that will leave me the least amputated, leave me the most intact.  Sacrifices, sacrifices, I better get to thinking, better get to it.