something i wrote 2 years ago…RIP baby brother.

i would’ve said “happy birthday” and gave you a hug
took you downstairs- new skateboard, maybe a dub
or two, or three just for spending
and we can go to Chuck E’s later before the days’ ending
and you’d probably ask instead about a video game
and i’d say “no way kid, that’ll melt up your brain”
but i bet you’d complain, end up gettin’ your way
cuz you know i try to be strict but i’m soft anyways.
then i’d ruffle your hair and take you to class
we’d say a prayer first then another hug last
or we could dance all day if we just had the chance

cuz you’d be eight today and we’d celebrate today
and i know time passes but your memory stays

like, i remember- first day you were born
i was the first to hold your hand and i stood there and swore
i’d be the best role model, sister & friend
help raise you up right to be The Man among men
i had dreams and ideas about how you’d turn out
already excited and already proud
like i made you myself- shoutin’ out loud,
gettin hyped and yellin’ “happy birthday, child!”

cuz you’d be eight today and we’d celebrate today
and i know time passes but your memory stays

and it wasn’t that long before we said goodbye
what, a couple of months? yeah time does fly
i was the last to hold your hand as i covered my eyes
it was the first time i felt my whole body cry
it was the first time i felt a part of me die
and it was difficult, it was a fuckin’ disaster
life after that, i think time moved faster
cuz i grew up quick inside, i had to master
the art of handlin’ emotions, plasterin’ lives
& i grew wise, realized i was blessed in disguise
and you’re still on my mind
just like today. i remember now & i wanna say
i loved you then and still, love doesn’t fade

you’d be eight today and we’d celebrate today
and i know time passes but your memory stays
a million digital roses for your little grave  @~>~~
I love you, Israel & Happy Birthday.

What is it about this time of year and the cloudy, rainy weather that makes it pair so perfectly with jazz and blues?

Misty - Ella Fitzgerald

I said that I couldn’t sleep with messy lines in my room. I then proceeded to reorganize everything that was out of order- my papers, DVDs, shoes and drawers. When I was done I crawled into bed and started complaining that the new sheets were poking me all over because of the low thread count. He lay there silent. I asked him, “Am I crazy or something?” He answered, “A little bit.” I appreciate how he tried to save my feelings by saying that. But now I kinda think he’s a liar. True story.

i am going to have a word vomit moment and excessively type what will ultimately end up as cyberubbish in hopes of expressing myself tonight.

i am upset. everyday, during the horrible, mundane, deathly boring routines that i am forced to put myself through, i have moments when i find my inner being yelling at me and silently screaming in hopes of getting my attention and reminding me that life is so much more than what it’s become for me.

wake up at 8. drive. work at 9. off at 3. drive home. change uniform. drive. work at 4. off at 1030. drive. eat. shower. sleep/ wake up at 8. drive. work at 9. off at 3. drive home. change uniform. drive. work at 4. off at 1030. drive. eat. shower. sleep/ wake up at 8. drive. work at 9. off at 3. drive home. change uniform. drive. work at 4. off at 1030. drive. eat. shower. sleep/ wake up at 8. drive. work at 9. off at 3. drive home. change uniform. drive. work at 4. off at 1030. drive. eat. shower. sleep /wake up at 8. drive. work at 9. off at 3. drive home. change uniform. drive. work at 4. off at 1030. drive. eat. shower. sleep/ wake up at 8. drive. work at 9. off at 3. drive home. change uniform. drive. work at 4. off at 1030. drive. eat. shower. sleep/ wake up at 8. drive. work at 9. off at 3. drive home. change uniform. drive. work at 4. off at 1030. drive. eat. shower. sleep/

the insanity seems to be neverending. and when i say insanity, i obviously mean the boring cycle («understatement) that i insanely allow permission to drive me insane. all this for that almighty fuckin dollar. i hate money. i detest it. i cannot stand that it drives the world. unfortunately, i cant do much about that. especially not when i have a family to take care of and bills to pay.

if i could, i would be laid up in my all-white, fluffy ass bed with a mug of oolong, some louis on the speakers and a good book. i would probably steal my sister’s fluffy grey cat and sit him on my lap to complete the picture. my day would stretch on for what might feel like 50 hours and the sunset would take up half of that, during which time i would sit on my porch with someone that i love (who doesnt talk to much) and paint, laugh, stare at the sky, fall asleep with the sun on my face and wake up and it would still be looking at me, maybe i’d even dance in the street when no cars were present.

if i could, i would wake up early for no reason, get dressed in a comfy striped shirt and my favoritest jeans and run out the door with my nikon. wait- i would not run because i would be in no rush. i would waltz out the door and my favorite song from Cinderella would play as i waltzed. i would go out and take pictures of allllllll the beautiful things i could find. and maybe some of the ugly ones too. and there would be no moments when i would say things like, wow that’s so beautiful- i wish i had my camera and time to shoot a photo of it. that wouldnt happen because i would have time, an excess of it.

WAIT. i just realized that the time im spending writing this could be spent doing something much like what i am describing….fuck.