- 5: Talk about the best birthday you’ve had.
The best birthday I’ve ever had was 8 years old. I have no idea why that one is the most memorable. It was somewhere between 3 and 8 definitely. My 3rd birthday was amazeballs because I had a sleepover that was epic as hell. I don’t recall where any houserules went or why a bunch of not so much toddlers anymore knew how to break them - but hell fuck yes. jumping from the floor to the bed to the hamper back to the floor…. it was one of the best obstacle courses in a studio apartment ever.
my mother is awesome for that….
but see then there’s 8. all I remember about 8 is having my entire family at the skating rink with me, for me. i remember being frustrated with how much more difficult the skating rink was versus the carpeted area around it. Most importantly, I remember getting a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Michelangelo watch. That shit stayed on my arm and when it wasn’t, I always had it in view.
to date - I’ve not had a great birthday as an adult.
i sometimes walk around my house pretending that i either don’t give a fuck or that i can’t find one…….
secretly, under my kitchen sink - there’s approximately 14 mason jars full of fucks that i keep on standby because portions of my heart are enlarged….
that extremely weird phenomena when you feel that no one will understand you. and then you realize several people actually know the DNA of your exact emotion.
then you get selfish as shit cuz only you’re supposed to have that feeling. and your fucked upness no longer belongs to you alone.
- Frankie gives me life. Even when she’s wishing death on folk.
- these meds got my digestive system going through all kinds of ailments.
- maybe - just maybe - if i buy a pair of size 38 jeans and stand in the mirror with my cell phone, i can take a pretty sexy ass “after” shot.
- el derecho se acerca. let’s see if my ceiling will make it through the night.
- do i get a laptop with Windows 8 and relearn Windows or do I get a Macbook and learn Apple? Either way - there’s gonna be some learnin’ to do.
Girl. I mentally shat an orgasm reading that. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SHIT AN ORGASM? BLUEBERRY FUCKING CHEESECAKE FUCKING MUFFINS. THAT’S HOW.
—Quill (via franksandbeanz)
I remember when…
black boy saturdays.
I want to know that I’m beautiful.
- color blind.
- afraid to sleep at night because i fear i’ll dream of my job.
- eating ramen noodles tonight. haven’t done that since my zipcode was 21225.
- eating ramen noodles. haven’t done that since the 28 ran to Randallstown from Cherry Hill.
- receiving an $11 credit from Comcast because, hey, they fucking know better.
- a victim of homonyms.
- trying to outshine myself until i become a phoenix [for real]
- not poor. not broke. not a giving tree yet.
- not a godfather yet.
had a kid around 2 or 3 get on the bus today. he marched all the way to the very back where i was sitting, eyes locked on me, and as if he knew i would, i reached out my arms to lift him up and placed him in the vacant seat next to me. he adjusted his position, back straight and then stared up at me. waiting.
i had my music playing but read his mother’s lips speak, “stop staring”. Then she looked at me and said, “he too grown”.
i have to figure out how to get one of these on a regular basis.
and by regular meaning 3-4 hours a week or something.
#marchphotoaday Day 27: #YourName #quill #scribe (Taken with instagram)
I’ll be back Thursdee…
(in my most Baltimorean accent)
omg this is so over the top…
got up commanding my morning
- comfortable, because my laundry is #JesusFresh
- stink bugs were terribly excited about the humidity.
- landed on my shoulder twice to tell me all about it.
- it’s disgusting when the humidity reaches 101% and it’s 72 degrees and fuckas on the bus insist on keeping all the windows sealed tight with no AC running. stupid geriatric high schoolers.
- i share my office comfortably now. yeah that temp and i reached a bit of a truce on friday.
- knocked out a good deal of work for it to be monday. pretty sure i did this thinking that my boss would’ve arrived today. she didn’t.
- my assistant director lost her sister today.
- after sunday, my ex called and asked, out of curiosity if we’d ever be friends [again]. i need a multiple choice option. or at least a choose-your-ending story line.
- payday and online bill pay better be effective as hell within the next 24 hours. srsly
- do i really feel like making a 20 item list.
- not really. i don’t even feel like recapping the weekend because - snore.
- here we go.
- i totally just bullshitted the first four items.
- no pigeon carriers or messages in a bottle were tossed into the lunar high tides of septembers 16-19, so why in the fuck were there ships being tossed in my direction with bullshit as cargo? <-rhetoric) i refuse to be labeled as anything other than what i can self-adhesive my ownself with (right? did that sound right? i think it sounda right.) you betta get the fuck up out my face. i don’t burn bridges but i will block you faster than a crack fucka giving you head and taking a facial for a fix. try me.
- i’m in awe of buses. the way the move. the click clack of trains when they fly over junctions at 47mph. there’s a rhythm to it. and the rhythm is so similar to the relieving *gaaahhhh* that one feels after cracking their knuckles, or back, or neck, or anything else that may be tightened by the synovial fluid residing at they joints.
- a friend of mine said it irks him when people say “they” when they mean “their”. i do this in almost every composition i write that ain’t for a grade or dean. i know what i mean. and i know how to use proper english. please see #5.
- my sex drive - is low. like really low. like the most you’re going to get out of me is a phone bone dialogue, spoken into an empty lotion dispenser, and used when necessary to jack off. if even that.
- i’m also told that i put a lot of personal information on my blog. for the world to see. the world. followers. the world. stalkers. people seeking to judge others. people who end up knowing more about me than the people that i claim as friends. i still have secrets. and i still have metaphors.
- i was completely inspired by ONE poet last night at Storytellers. in his piece, he recited a ton of nonsensical metaphors and after each wave of recited throw up, he followed it with “these metaphors make no sense”. Oh god but they were so deliberate. it made me wanna write again.
- last pair of underwear: activated.
- bacon cheeseburger for dinner
- benadryl as appetizer
- bills are paid.
- haven’t had company at the house since saturday. that was about 20 minutes. so i don’t really count them. haven’t had company at the house in awhile. it’s been nice.
- Slow death: i go to work and i come home and i go to work and i come home and i go to work and i go home i go to work and i come home and i go to work and i come home and i weekend indoors and flirt with the idea of going outside until monday and then i go to work and i come home and i go to work.
- regarding #12, yes #12, i need to review my archives at the end of the month to make sure i actually did half of the DREAMS i write down on this piece of shit microblog.
- CUSSING. later.
- Regarding #8, MyVidster remains a favorite on my homepage. A regularly visited favorite.
- I want you to read this and read it carefully. i don’t burn bridges but i block faster than a crack fucka giving you head and taking a facial for a fix. try me.
A burnt bridge ought not be equated to “report of action” or “being blocked” or “slit wrists due to loss of followers” or “outpatient community psychiatry admittance because you were saved in my phone as ” … . . “
You suck at social arenas behind my PC monitor but we can most certainly still go to UNO’s Chicago Bar and Grille for their four cheese deep dish pizza and bar specials.
Pussy. You better not be offended.
- So far the coldest day of the season.
- I pulled out a cardigan and then I put it back when I realized I couldn’t rock a t-shirt with it to work.
- Stopped caring about the time and Tiger took me all the way to work with conversation. Today’s his birthday. What a start.
- Train was 30 minutes late. How the fuck even…..
- Got to work 25 minutes late and still beat my boss *unf-unf-unf*
- Put to test my new goal: working diligently on everything I possibly can until I look up at the clock and realized 9 fucking miserable hours of my life have deteriorated away into a puddle of disappointment and mediocrity. But no worries, two weeks from now it’ll reincarnate or manifest or whatever the fuck you wanna call it - into a $700 and some change paystub.
- I think I’ll do shots in a few minutes. And make a grilled cheese.
- Boogie’s dilemmas made me swing my legs with devilish delight.
- The boss didn’t say much to me today. *looks her up and down*
- I walked across campus to drop something off to this woman in the Communications building. I told her that her voice gave me energy. It was like an instant audio espresso. She laughed when I told her and her eyes lit up. Her mouth, when she laughed, reminded me of Rachelle Ferrell. Huge. Wide. Loud. Effective.
- It was cold today. Cold today.
- I folded my hands, yawned, and closed my eyes for about ten minutes between #11 and #12. I opened my eyes and thought someone was watching me.
- Regarding #4, it looked like a bunch of slave kids, greedy business men, and gluttonous junkies were all trying to squeeze into this 2 car train. It took 5 minutes for it to close its doors because of legs, backpacks, and oversized ponytails hanging out of the doors. (NOTE: If a train or bus is 30 minutes late, no matter how late you are, you’re late nonetheless. Waitchoass for the one behind it.)
- Regarding #9 - the temp did though. 20 minutes before it was time to leave. In my head she twisted her ankle while walking out the door, flipped over the railing outside the building, and snapped her neck and anything else vertebrae related on the fallout shelter below. Dusty bitch ass cunt fucka.
- I’m about to make myself a cup of chai. But some kind of way fuse #7 into it to make this a REAL Friday night.
- I really really really wanna cuddle with someone but I can’t bring myself to unlock my door for some bullshit like that. That deadbolt is on and more secure than a black purse in an all-white elevator. B’leedatshit.
- If it wasn’t for the money, I would’ve said NO to this entire weekend.
- I need to do laundry. God I hate this part.
- I need a haircut. Playing my beard is never beneficial.
- (fell asleep again while typing this list) But now “SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS” is banging in my head….