Keeping the Pen in Motion

A sense of clarity.

I feel that the world has gotten just a little brighter, a little clearer. I feel that I am present in the now all of a sudden. I'm also itchy. I scratch so much. It feels that bugs are crawling on my skin, everywhere, including my balls. Have you ever had to scratch at your balls when your outside and wearing pants (well I hope you wear pants outside). It's pretty embarrassing.

I am free in my mind even though I still can't sleep. I got rotten sleep Friday night, slept and had two Mornings Saturday. And then took a shower to scrub away the bugs from my body. As I climbed out of the shower, the sensation soon returned. Oh well, so much for that shit. I packed my backpack, my baby's basinet with everything that I normally carry and then with my baby, my laptop. Hoisting it on my back, that bitch was heavy. I mean, really heavy. Damn! I'm I THAT out of shape that my backpack, my lifelong burden is now too heavy to me? This is incredible how fast the body can deteriorate.

I have got to get back into shape. I'll take off from walking today, Saturday, because I have the SHOUT OUT, but Sunday will be a different story. I'm going to get out and git-er-done. I head out, hit the Way and head downtown to OTTO's. I'm not in a hurry, I leave on time, the trains are in a fucking hurry. They rush me down to the last stop so fast that it made my head swim. I sat in the subway station because it was way too cool outside to stand and wait for Cyndi Lauper to open up. I watch the legs go by, slacks 60%, spandex 30%, beautiful stockings in short dresses, 10%, yay!!!

I soon leave the Way and head down the block. OTTO's is open and I stroll in. I am the first one in the house, which makes me feel good because I can get things done without interruption. I set up the stage, and the lighting before the first person walked in. OBSIDIAN soon came in as well as the bulk of our audience, so I got the show started, being the first one to read to open up the Open Mic. I read a poem and a limerick. Not the one that I wanted to read. The one that I read was....


There once was a kid named troy
who found out he had a new toy
his gonads were fine
he would play all the time
And troy stayed a happy young boy


The one that I did want to read was....


There once was a girl with foresight
Who dreamed of a pussy so tight
Alas she was loose
Until she used lemon juice
And got the tightness just right


Well, maybe next week. The SHOUT OUT took off then. Our feature was on the money, the poets did a fine job with their contri- butions. It was just an all around good show that made you feel good when it was over. I was grinning, and it wasn't because of the two beers. I pack away the stage as another band came in, obnoxiously setting up around us, moving our shit out of the way and piling their shit around us. I just took my time, getting in their way, stepping over their shit, catching their cabling with my shoes for laying it all around me. We were only two minutes late and these fuckers act like we were a half hour late.

Fuckers.

My brother and I stand outside in the cold New York night, shooting the Breeze with D2theL and I was invited once again to the next Mbiti ceremony. I'm really going to have to go, just to see what it's like. My brother and I retire to Starbucks for a few cups of the bean, and then I head home to check my email and find rest. I don't get any. Within two hours I am awake but I decide, stupidly, that I I just laid in bed I'll drift back off to sleep. Instead I toss and turn until the fire alarm goes off. Shit. I smell smoke. Let me get up. If there is a real fire, I want to pack up my back pack with a change of clothes and walk out the front door and never come back.

Outside there is the bitter smell of smoke and bacon grease, but no real sign of any real smoke. I go to the bathroom and take a leak. Then I return home, eat some dinner, sit down, and email actually comes through for me. I read, write and then crawl back into bed. This time it sticks. I float off, right away.

In the morning, just a few hours of sleep, I hear the rain pounding the ass of my air conditioner outside of my window. What fucking luck is that. Not only has it been cold recently it also has to rain? Damn. I WANT to put the time into exercising an the weather has turned into my foe. What kind of shit is that? Is everything going to be against me? I shake my head. I just can't win.

Another day....

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/12/keeping-pen-in-motion.html
Visit i dont want tobe anything other than me for Daily Updated Hairstyles Collection