I knew this was coming..
my chest was feeling mad tense an when i took a deep breath,
i could tell my lungs were tight..
Not a good sign?
I didn't think so either.
Going to bed early didn't help,
shut the light off before midnight but i couldn't fall asleep for shit,
i was up for hours despite being very..
On Friday i recieved a book someone kindly sent me (thankyou),
it's called Silent Wisdom and is by Steven Wilde. As it wasn't very long
i managed to finish it by Saturday night, so as i was trying to sleep,
the contents of the book was sloshing from side to side in my brain,
it was so hot and humid that i kept turning an changing positions
aimlessly trying to cool down..
It didn't work.
I woke up tired,
hot and cranky today..
Even though my brother cooked me his Super Serious Sunday breakfast,
an some Patty Labelle lookin' motherfucker coughed up some bagels to go with it,
I got a sore throat..
My joints hurt..
I feel like my eyeballs are on fire..
An who do i have to blame for all this?
i think they had on some super bate romantic comedy called 'New Years Eve' or some shit,
real tough gangster prison type viewing..
While he's sitting there some Spanish dude taps him on the shoulder..
"Wa's up wid yhor bhoi?"
The Spaniard points over at me on the stepmaster..
Red as a motherfucker..
Surrounded by a huge puddle of sweat..
"Tha' machine! I' fo ghuys like'a me!"
*He pats his heavily pregnant stomach*
(i think i know who the father is)
"Ih nat fo Teem!"
*He twirls his pork-like finger in a slow circular motion next to his temple*