It's 2:25 PM

It's Saturday afternoon. I want to take a nap, can't because I'm supposed to be helping my friend move around 3. So, now I have to stay up, or risk missing his call. I don't mind helping him move at all, I just really want a nap first.
I gotta make new shit. I recorded TLS2 yesterday. Like, vocals that actually sound great. I think I may have messed up a word, though. If so, FUCK. Still, I'm starting to get back into the rhythm of things. I've been feeling off, musically, lately. The new shit I'm writing is good, but doesn't fit the beats I have available currently, and my delivery's been a bit off... It's like I'm rusty all over again. I gotta stop taking breaks from this music shit. It throws me off my game, which throws everything out of whack with music being such a key element in my life. I'm bored of keeping my cousin at arm's length. I've decided to just put up with her shit and accept her for the damaged person I perceive her to be. Regardless of whether or not such is truly the case, I will indeed continue to go about life as if it is. It's easier to like her then.
With that said, I need her back around for these sessions. Or Jonesy. I love working with her, too. Doc Jones is really just fantastic to be around. She's smart, talented, pretty, funny, and has that Southern accent that drives me insane. I love girls with Southern accents. Reminds me of the old school Southern belles, minus the hate speech, still with some racism though. I have what I consider a "dismissable crush" on her, meaning that I kind of like her, like her, but it's not enough to make a move or act upon it in any way. I just see her and think "yea, it'd be really nice to have you by my side, but if not, that's okay too". The kind of crush where it doesn't necessarily break your heart to see her with someone else. The best kind, really. An opportunistic crush, if you will.
I've gone completely off-topic.
I could've been napping.
Fuck.
Actually, no I can't. Today's a workout day. I need to get going on these exercises. Fuck getting in shape, it's a hassle.


[X_X]-A.P.

It's 9:14 AM

Forgot to come back and post about The Dark Knight Rises (literally every time I type that title, I have to hit the backspace key because I keep writing "The Dark King", on some devil shit...). In so many words, it was epic. The scale, the scope, the spectacle, the story... Just epic.

I guess there really isn't much to say. It's a movie that must be seen in theatres. I need to see it again. If I saw Avengers five times, I need to see this 10.


[X_X]-A.P.

It's 10:07 AM

My friend got back together with is whore, which weirds me out because she did him dirty as hell, and he said he claimed to be sick of the shit...

My cousin got drunk, and then she got irate. She went from venting about some shit she was hurt about, to attacking me personally... Going so far as to hit me a few times. I mean she's small, and I'm quite large, so I wasn't actually injured or anything. I wasn't hurt by the things she said, because I'm used to harsh words. What is affecting me is that she was so intent on trying to get under my skin. That is, in turn, what actually got under my skin. Not her words, but the intention behind them.
Imagine a bee with no stinger relentlessly trying to sting another bee. No, the stinger-less bee's not doing anything harmful or life-threatening to the other, but it really wants to. Now imagine that the stinger-less bee was not only one of the other bee's best friends, but also his family. That's why it's kinda fucked up, to me.
Drunkenness will eternally be blamed, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that you really tried so hard to hurt your own blood. Not cool. I'm not even really mad*, I just have an overwhelming sense of done-ness in regard to her for the time being.

I can't decide whether to commit to it or not, though.

What I'm slowly realizing about my cousin is that she's severely damaged (more so than she lets on) and, to a certain degree, unstable. Between childhood daddy issues, a traumatic abortion, and whatever other shit she's gone through and not told me, she's fucked up. I always thought she had the strength of mind to overcome these obstacles, but apparently I was wrong, and she does not. The more I think of her and her situations/experiences, the more I realize that some of the fucked up shit she does is because she's fucked up. Just like I am, really. I do fucked up shit, too, but I like to think I handle it better. It's like I have more boundaries, or something like that. Whatever, it's obviously a biased opinion.
With that said, though, I don't know whether I should hold her off or not. I don't know if it's ok to, knowing that this is coming from someone with an 'unstable core'. That's in regard to the long run, though. For the time being, yes, she's being held at arms' length.

I didn't really want this entry to be about her, but it's been bugging me since Wednesday night/Thursday morning when it happened.

I'll cover The Dark Knight Rises in the next one.



[X_X]-A.P.


*I wasn't angry initially, nor am I now, but last night was completely different. I got very drunk, very angry, and, had she answered her phone, I would've verbally assaulted her until I'd destroyed our whole friend-/family-/relationship completely. Luckily, she didn't pick up, and I called a good friend of mine whom, despite being stressed about a case of domestic violence next door, took the time out to listen to me vent completely. Then she read me Harry Potter until I fell asleep.

It's 9:07 AM

I don't know if this project with me and my cousin is gonna work out, as cool as it would be. I'm just not feeling like she's really into it, which annoys me because she could have just said that she didn't wanna work on it, and I would've shifted my focus back to Normal.

We've broken ground on four songs, with only one (barely) near completion. I feel like I'm the only one making effort here. Trying to get her on the phone is like pulling teeth, trying to get her to respond to texts is like waiting for paint to dry, and trying to actually get her to the house to record is like catching a unicorn.

As good as she is at it, I don't think she really wants to sing, or be musically successful. A waste in the eyes of non-singers like me, but... What can I do? If I bug her about working on songs, she eventually just stops responding to my calls/texts. I've been trying the occasional approach, only hitting her up once or twice every couple of days, but she doesn't even respond then. I know people get busy with life and shit, but is a response so hard, really? Just say "I don't wanna work on this project anymore," or "I don't have time to work on the project anymore." It's so simple. Instead, I get ignored a lot, which I hate beyond all comprehensible reason.

I need to talk to her about this. There may just be some shit going on that she hasn't been able to talk about or whatever, though I doubt she'll tell me about it if that's the case. We're not as close as we used to be, which is sad because I consider her (less and less as time goes, I suppose) one of my best friends. I think it's one-sided though. Actually, it's always been off-balance, but the scales are getting more and more skewed, metaphorically speaking. It's depressing, honestly.

I wish my sister could sing like she did. It'd be so easy to make music with her, especially since she's nice enough to not ignore me all the time. Ugh, I sound like a butthurt child.

Actually, I guess I am butthurt. Pretty much, yeah.
Like I said, I need to talk to her before I make any final decisions.
Of course, that's if I ever get in contact with her...(again: pulling teeth, watching paint dry, catching a unicorn, etc...)
Goddamn this. I hate wasting time.
I wasted June. I must do something with July.

Suppose I'll shift focus back to Normal, for the time being. Tailor these songs I've been holding off on since commissioning this flawed project. If this project collapses, I'll just fold those songs into Normal. Ideally, Normal will be 20 tracks, longer than NowhereVille and Nobodies put together, including bonus cuts. That's ideal, though. Gotta see where the music takes me.
Gonna go write and watch Skins, now.
Might try to call my cousin later, but I'm not up for being ignored.
Might hit my homie down the street up instead. Haven't linked up in about a week.


[X_X]-A.P.

It's 9:33 PM

I think I'm a dark cloud in a lot of peoples' lives, which is why I go such long periods without seeing my friends sometimes. The alternative is that I have a bunch of shit friends. Neither of these possibilities make me feel less suicidal. I don't know if I can't help my "Debbie Downer"-ness (my title, according to my Munchkin friend), or if I don't help it. I just know I'm depressed a lot, and that makes me not want to do much more than lie in my bed with the window blocked completely so that it's dark all the time.

Swear I can never finish a depression post. My head gets too dark and I start to shut down.
Like now. The text you see here was, until recently, replaced by a list of reasons why I'm depressed. After listing such reasons, I've become more depressed, having brought all of my demons to the forefront. As a result, I'm going to lie in my bed with the window blocked completely, so that it's dark all the time.
I'll get better at this soon.


[X_X]-A.P.

It's 6:02 PM

My dog won't go poop.
That's the least of my troubles, so I figured I'd start there.

In other news, Andy Griffith is dead as of this morning, and I've also become privy to the fact that a man was handcuffed and shot in the back of his head on his own porch after calling the police himself. He was being chased. He called the cops, they came, they cuffed him, they shot him in the back of the head. His cousin was at the house. So was his brother. So was his mom. She was in the house when it happened. A loud bang from outside, and her world is completely changed. Right outside of her door, her son was cuffed and murdered, execution style.

I tend to not give a fuck about shit, because the world's so fucked up that I can't place fair focus on any one thing, but that shit is weighing heavily upon me. It makes me not want to be black even more, now. How the fuck am I supposed to feel walking around in my native country, fearing that if my life is endangered, and I call the cops, that my life is no less endangered? The outside world is scary as fuck. I can't be scared, though. Because whatever happens will happen. The fuck am I gonna do? If it's time to die, it's time to die. The ways people are going, though... Still going, to this day... I just really don't know, in general.

The other night I got high after taking some medication, and I had this momentary, intense feeling like my lifeline was being severed. It felt as if I was slowly fading out from existence. Of course, that was just me being high and freaking out over the head rush, but now, days later, I realize why that little moment was so heavy. In that moment, I didn't resolve to meet death peacefully, I started to panic. I clutched my head as if the nature of my being were trying to escape from it, while forcefully repeating to myself "I'm right here. I'm right here". It was an intense moment, and the scariest part of it was that I was completely and totally alone. Not just in my room, but...period. Completely alone. If I were really about to die, it would just be me dying. By myself. No one going through that same moment with me. No one else in my head telling me it was going to be ok. Just me, alone in my own private universe, witnessing its end. My own personal death. It's a fucked up feeling/realization. I've heard it many times: "You're born alone, you die alone", but to actually feel the gravity of that shit? FUUUUCK that feeling. Forever.

I will never be ready for death. Period.

(Parting thoughts)
Honestly, what is this existence? Grand cosmic happenstance? Divine manipulation? What?
Is someone pulling the strings, or are we just an accidental creation, like Reese's peanut butter cups?
The world is too much right now. I hate it. I honestly do. I'd check out*, but I fear death more than I fear life.
Fuck this, I'm taking a nap.
I need to enjoy this storm while it lasts.



[X_X]-A.P.



*'check out' I.e., suicide.

It's 11:59 PM

I've become privy to knowledge that I will have to pretend not to know for the duration of my foreseeable future. It's not in my nature to judge, it's just crazy, knowing shit about people. Like, finding out how someone is behind closed doors. Honestly, I'm ashamed of myself for doing what I did, and I wish I could forget. Now, the next time I see her (which is soon), I'm gonna know exactly what's going on in her head when she alludes to certain things and gets quiet. Damn, that's kinda fucked up.
Fuck it, though. It is what it is.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town...
Just got back from playing pool with my niggas. Shit was cool. I won twice. Both by default. Swag King Kong. I'm ashamed of myself for having just typed that.
Jacked a pinch from the master stash. About to finesse that and then think about shit that I shouldn't think about, but won't give a fuck about thinking about due to highness. I'm coming under the impression that the epic length of my dry spell is starting to affect my sense of reasoning, and definitely throwing off my aim. To be esoteric, I'm repeatedly targeting friendlies...
Sometimes I feel like I'm saying too much, but where else am I going to say it? Other than my private private blog. No one I know will ever find that. That's a big bowl of confidence I'm going in on right now.
Fuck it, weed time. I wanna try and get this one girl to send me some new nudes. She's so sensual with hers... I think she's hotter than she gives herself credit for, or I'm just an attentive fan. I considered taking some new dick shots to send to her, but... How many times can I send you my dick before it gets old? I'm not about to get inventive with poses. I am admittedly fond of casual poses that just happen to have my dick hanging out. Lol, leisurely dick pics... They've gotten good reviews from the porn blogs I've submitted to, though. Might try some shit after I smoke. I wanna hop on Omegle and find some mid-week night freak... Something about having an audience. I love the girls that look more curious than turned on. I think I'm a closet exhibitionist. If I had a a better body, I'd have been doing porn. I'm working on it, though. I'd have no problem being a well known rapper with a porn career on  the side. I like fucking women and re-watching my conquests. Listening to girls cum from my doing is high all its own. I've tried to stop this post a few times since I've started writing... I should do that now.
Still, while I'm already offbeat and random: ALL GIRLS ARE SEXUAL DEVIANTS.
Took forever to learn. Not a lesson soon to be forgotten, though.
Ok, smoke time. Serious.


[X_X]-A.P.

It's 10:55 AM

I am getting baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaked.
Everything's good right now. The air's on, my fan's on, my music's on, my mind's gone, and I'm lying on my bed in a supremely zen fashion.
A storm nears, but I'm high above it.
Superman will return to Earth soon, but he's gotta go hover in front of the Sun and soak in some restoration.


[X_X]-A.P.

It's 2:39 AM

Fuck being awake right now. Nothing but dark shit swirling around my head right now. Can't find the right music to relax to, either. Plus I'm outta tree.
Fuck being awake right now. My low self-esteem is at an all-time high, for some reason.

I've got a shitload of conflicting feelings brewing in me, and I don't really know how to articulate them, which leads to more frustration, which is just fuel in an already-roaring fire.
Quite honestly, I just wanna spiral cut my arm from wrist to elbow and just bleed until I don't feel anything anymore. I don't even want happiness right now. Happiness, I'm realizing, is like hope. Both happiness and hope are dangerous, because they're highs. The thing about heights is: The higher you are, the more painful the fall will be. I'd like to just stay on solid ground. I'm tired of getting lifted up just to crash down again.
Then there's the fact that I have the unfortunate habit of internally exaggerating my emotions. I.e., I'm always much happier or much sadder than I appear. It takes its toll.

These conflicting feelings, though. I'm worried about the nature of my emotions toward this one girl (she really isn't 'this one girl', she's actually a key piece to my puzzle). If it's more than just genuine concern, and actually some kind of something brewing within me, backing up that concern, then I'm more fucked up then this sentence's structure. Then there's good ol' good-as-Gold. I KNOW that it's not going anywhere, but every time she talks to me it's like sunlight in my veins. And I hate to be so looks-conscious, but she is absurdly beautiful. Literally. It's absurd. Not a scrap of make-up in sight, either. Seriously, she really is just golden. It's like being constantly enticed by the smell of the greatest weed in the world, but never being allowed to smoke it. Ever. She is 1/3 of a trifecta of eternally unobtainable highs within this cannabis metaphor.

This post is ending abruptly because fuck you.
Plus, I can't write about the shit that goes on in my head for too long, because that causes me to have to focus on it for too long.

On another note, being unattractive is getting more and more inconvenient as time progresses.


[X_X]-A.P.

It's 3:03 AM

Had to make a new deal with the universe.
We're cool now, I just wish I could watch my back in my sleep.

I don't want a repeat of last night.



[X_X]-A.P.