My Mind...that tricky lil phucker..

"You ain't shit, motherfucker. What the fuck makes you so special? You're not funny. They are laughing AT you. Starving artist my dick, you're a broke, old ass fuck up. You're not gonna make it...NO! You ain't gonna make it.. For shame, how you have disgraced the name.. Tsk,tsk.. Shoulda done the fucking homework, like Nancy told you to.. But, no.. So, look at you--check to check, night to night, hand to mouth.. And you think all that "hard work" is gonna pay off, don't you? It can only get so bad, gotta struggle to get to the good thing, blah,blah,blah--you're a corny slob. It could've been different, but you suck, so it only gets worse from here. Enjoy these days of being a scrub... You're soon to graduate to full fledged bum.."

I wish my mind would talk shit to me like that..

I'd just scream, "SHUUUT THE FUCK  UUUUUPPPPP!!!!!!!"

Silence.....

Naw, my mind is a way crafty lil fucker.

He just hints to those hurtful things about myself typed above..

And then, he'll play good cop/bad cop..

"No, that's not true."/"Well, if the shoe fuckin fits."

And I'm swaying like the wind..

Fucking with myself..

Not just when I'm bored. Not just if I'm sad. 

You know when he really wants to stick it to me?

When I'm happy...

When I, even for a moment, don't have a care in the world..

"You know this is temporary right? As soon as you walk out of this club, you better put your shit helmet back on."

You buzz killing fuck..

Um.. yeah, the problem is he's right, I'm not rich..

If I was, at least i could threaten to get a lombodomy and shut that fool up for a sec..

So I decided i was gonna "Craig" "D-BO"..

I'm staring in the mirror, all fierce faced...

My mind's like," what you gonna do with that? besides make me mad.."

And I decided, "fuck it," I'm a part-time hippy...

Fuck money! 

Yes, I overstand that in this land...

I NEED money..

But, I truly believe THEM, when they say, that if money is your only worry..... your STR8..

I wish money was my only worry..

All my other worries are actually the reason, or part of the reason I covet money...

FUCK MONEY!!!

What about him?

NO matter where i go..

what i'm doing...

successful, or pitiful..

dude is riding with me...

Lately, we've been on a new groove though...

Respecting each other's boundaries, and all that good conflict relief bullsheet..

He's still gonna be him, and I can't be nobody, but Alecks..

Yeah, he's gonna wanna spark some shit...

Guess what?

I'm a mushroom cloud laying mutherfucker too, mutherfucker..

He told me when I read him the rough draft of this, that ya'll would want to commit me, immediately..

I told him that everybody got their own shit, and that he's not that special, for the general pop to perceive him as a threat..

That's all..

Every once in a while, it's nice to dine at a turned table..