I’ve also been good without one, but I miss having someone or something around that just spews an aura of inspiration & who’s energy is so harmonious with mine that it boomerangs back & forth between us. The type of energy that’s constantly building, vibrating, creating, & transforming.
Being able to create something you’re proud of is an amazing feeling. It’s even more amazing when you have support and see that others are proud of you too.
I’ve been making maneuvers lately. I won’t say much but yesterday was an eye opening experience. I could have anything I want. Anything. The world is really in the palm of my hand.
It’s about time I go and get it.

- Gym.
- Traveled to Northern Liberties.
- Graffiti.
- Took pictures.
- Block Party.
- Sarah got me drunk x high.
- Homies showed me love.
- Fell in love with Dj SYLO.. again.
- Fashion show.
- After Parties w/the fam.
- Grocery bags. (;
- Dubbed “The Flyest of Them All”.

Which means stay the fuck out of my way for the next week and a half unless you want me to destroy your soul, kill your family, & eat the bodies to hide the evidence.

Full force. In all ways, shapes, forms… And sizes.

I get restless at night.

It’s like a dormant part of me, a part of myself from the fucking shadow realm or some shit, has been awakened. Maybe Lola is back. Whatever.

I probably sound crazy right now.

I swear I’m not. There are parts of myself that nobody knows about. Things that have happened to me that nobody knows about. Things that I think that nobody knows about.

Those things, no matter how closely I keep them, affect me and the way I am.

Maybe that’s how others can call me irrational when I think I’m making perfect sense. I wish someone would just come along and pulled them out of me. I don’t want to have secrets, I just do. Everyone does.

It’s heavy, the past. I wouldn’t say I have baggage. Just a lot of heaviness that weight down the back of my mind and speak through my subconscious.

What I need is someone strong enough to help me lift the weight off my shoulders and toss it away. I’m strong, one of the strongest people I know. But I need to heal and grow. We all do. But people see me and forget that I’m still a rose bud.

I’m at peace, not in pieces.

But I’m not quite where I wanna be yet.

Those same things are usually the things that we spend most of our time on.

Things are different now.
I am just trying to build.
I’ll start with a wall.
~
Letting the cat out
Is always easier than
Getting it back in.
~
Finally at peace.
The world is moving too fast.
As was I, rewind.
~
I really messed up.
Mystery has gone to lunch.
I’m no longer “it”.
~
Fine tuned minds don’t rest.
I hope I spark your interest.
This has been a test.
~
Space is well needed.
Treated like this would persist.
Time doesn’t exist.
~
Pride is a cock block.
Literally, sometimes not.
Each key has a lock.
~
Release for return.
Find peace, do not yearn, just wait.
Don’t hate, you will learn.
~
Happiness comes slow.
You don’t attain, you become.
Happiness comes, though.
~
Confident is me.
I’m strong, or else I’d be dead.
Confidence is key.

I’m learning that they’re hard to find in the same place at the same time.
One is blind and the other could make you lose your mind.

Even though I got hit by a car, rained on, and sent a bunch of mixed signals.
All things that I absolutely hate.
This week was still great. Amazing. Glorious. For lack of better words.
All of my classes have been getting cancelled. I have absolutely nothing to do tomorrow, so I’m going to be up with my thoughts all night fuckin around with this music.
Talk to me. Tell me things.
Let’s be friends.

It’s hard, because I feel so strongly about words.

But people lie and things change.

What’s being said will become what’s been said and it’s never been smart to invest in the intangible.

Show me something.

I’m 19 years old. Nine. Teen.

I’m going to be 20 this year.

I need to stop being so serious about everything. Life truly is just a big fucking game.

& That’s sad in a lot of ways.

But in many ways, its a good thing.

Games were created to be fun and when I really think about the things that I want… I want to have fun.

I want to meet tons of different people. I want to be a part of things. I want to travel. I want to have sex. Amazing sex. I want to feel free. I want to build and create. My dad told me I’ve gotta kiss frogs before I find my king, I want to kiss those frogs. I want to smoke on rooftops. I want to listen to music. I want to laugh and learn and be alive. And I want to have fun.

Fuck waiting.

Now is the time.

I’m 19 years old. Nine. Teen.

That’s all life should be about right now. So instead of feeling like my entire world is being destroyed when shit isn’t perfect & things aren’t working out the way I wished they would… I’m just going to embrace it all.

Everything.

And when shit does start to crumble a bit, because it happens to everyone whether or not they see it coming, I’m just gunna say fuck it.

Shit happens.

These aren’t going to be the best years of my life if I don’t make them.

The kind of passion I’m looking for won’t be found until I meet a man. A full grown man. The kind of passion I’m looking for won’t be found until I’m older, because people don’t live like they used to and everything nowadays is a game.

… At least that’s what my daddy said.

It’s a shame that I’m being forced to play games when all I would like to do is be honest and bare and truthful.

It’s tough. But the only way to survive is to be tougher.

That’s life I guess.

It’s a shame it has to be that way.

I’m intrigued.
What’s even more interesting is that she’s a late 20th century photography. Like 1990, 1995.
She should be celebrated.
‘The Kitchen Series’ and ‘From Here I Saw What Happened And I Cried’ are the two best things I’ve seen all year so far. You should google them or something if you’re reading.
They speak volumes and evoke so much emotion and thought. She should be celebrated. Her and Basquiat. It’s a shame they aren’t household names.
When people think Black History, they think slavery, civil rights, Rosa Parks, MLK. Sure, that’s all the old stuff and equally important to know and speak about, but Black History is being made every nanosecond of every day. I think it’s important to hear about the people who have made their mark within the last 30 years too. They shouldn’t have to wait 50 years to show up in a history book or to be heard about.
Young people, Black or White or whatever. We have to start educating ourselves. Filling & killing your brain with Chief Keef & molly water isn’t gunna cut it.

If I can’t count on my dad for shit else, I can count on him to tell me the things I need to hear in a way that I need to hear them.
That’s truly my nigga. He lets me speak freely. He makes me realize what’s real and when I’m being irrational. He understands. He knows me and he makes me see when things get fuzzy. And even though I’m more my mother, he is me.
He gets me.
This weekend was well needed. I’m grateful for the family I have, no matter how dysfunctional.

I’m a grown fucking woman.
I like straightforwardness.
It’s the only logical way to be if you wanna get your point across.
Especially if you’re saying something hurtful or meaningful.
Don’t be a little pussy.
Be blunt.
Cut down the bush.
Don’t beat around it.