Runnin from my enemies will I live to be 23

So it's the break of dawn or some shT and I'm still up because i'm a fuqing zombie. i feel like homegirl on Biggie's first album when she said something about her being an owl. classic. Did some work, did some BSing, did some planning, did some writing. A typical night for the hermano. Kinda wished I had done a lot more reading and writing in my youth or as a teen at least.

I'm about to crash up on the curb cause my visions blurry

It's strange how some things and life events alter your perception and relation to things. I've always loved hip-hop and rap and freestyles and poetry. I definitely knew i was not a good freestyler, but shT was always in my head. As for poetry, I kind of didn't want to be too mushy-mushy and didn't want to go shooting shT up either, so I just chilled in the background. It amazes me how I wrote my first poem four years after it happened. I witnessed a murder and the shT still troubles me because of the situation and all of the subsequent shT and people who have died (especially the innocent ones) since then. It troubles me to see the cyclic nature of urban life no matter the neighborhood, borough, or precinct. We hear all this talk abotu the early nineties and how bad it was not only in Boston, but across the country as well. Something happened four years later that somehow triggered some back of the eye shT that had me reenacting shT so I had to get it down on paper. I never truly feel for the tupac theory and all of the glory cast upon him, but that join from the Above the Rim soundtrack was so moving. I know there are people whom I'll never be able to find or see again. And these are cats that should be in their mid-to-late twenties. It's just ashame and makes me sick ot my stomach sometimes. Sometimes being concious is just fuqing tiring from all of the mental dreariness that results. ugh.

never been a stranger to homicide
my city's full of gang bangers and drive bys
why do we die at an early age
he was so young
but still a victim of the 12 gauge
my memories of a corpse
mind full of sick thoughts
and I ain't goin back to court
so fuq what you thought

Sometimes I think it's safer to keep shT to myself because of safer no knowing I'm a crazy muthfuqa. ok not really. but on the reals, I worry about a lot of shT and think about a lot of shT. But I don't like to be a worry-wort and forever consumed so much by my thoughts that my actions are suppressed. It's a constant battle of life vs death, good vs evil, mind vs matter, that wages it way throughout my immunes system, making me numb to the life's painful agony when shT gets hectic. We try to take our bumbs and bruise, lick our wounds, and roll with tha flavor like it's all gravy, but sometimes taking a deep breath and pausing for the cause is the elixir for it all.

Hell, i don't even think I have a thesis or anything here, just random musings from a nightowl bastard with mad shT to do this week and not enough time or time mgt discipline to make sure it all will get dealt with. is it possible to ramble-type? aw fuq it. i'll get to what i can get to. ok maybe that's it. all that other ish were alternative ways of saying too much to do and not enough time to 'em. too many people to save, too many hugs to give, to many projects to finish, too many repressed tears from over the years, too many quiet thoughts forever forgotten, too many stolen moments left untouched. so i guess i'll just continue to give my all, be how i know how to be, do what i know how to do, love how i know how to love, live how i know/want to live, and take shT in stride. it's the only way we can survive, right?