Fourteen.

AHHHHHHHHH! that's what's happening right now. why?? I'm cleaning my mom's room. no, not bedroom. i'm terrified of what i might find if i do. her OTHER room. cause her bedroom is not enough to contain all her articles of clothing, accessories, and *gulp* SHOES. I started at around one this afternoon. it is now past four. and i just finished with the shoes. why am i doing this? cause when you're offered 50 bucks, no questions asked to do this, the choice is obvious.

anyway, my bad for being AWOL. i'm currently going thru rehab. rather, breaking myself down and rebuilding from the ground up. I've felt so insufficient lately, i felt a need to refocus and figure out:

A. what the hell i'm going to school for
B. why the fuck i'm still working in retail
C. how to turn my writing into something worth being proud of...dammit.
D. why i'm still living at home.

what can i say? i'm mildly depressed. going to school while working AND living at home will do that to you. because, there is no reprieve from the endless mounds of bullshit. but as i just told a friend of mine in a comment on her blog, bullshit decomposes eventually. so i'm just trying to be patient. while simultaneously trying to speed up that process. no small feat, let me tell you.

what i feel like talking about today is....lil wayne. also known as, the man with NO talent. what, you're a lil wayne fan? too bad. he blows out the asssssssss. and maybe it's because i'm a poet. but just cause you can string a few rhymes together does not make you the greatest rapper alive. mind you, i get this from people all the time: 'i like him because i can't believe half the shit he comes up with!' my bad. in my next poem, i'll recite the entire alphabet and rhyme with the letter Z in the following stanza. cause, that's talent. no, i'm not hating. i'm just saying. there's lil wayne. then there's lupe. mos def. q-tip. talib. can we please stop pretending pointless metaphors and synthesized vocals are music? it was fun for a bit, but it's time to get back to business people. cut out the bull, and shine the light on real talent. for every "hot" wayne verse you can lay on the table, i can lay twenty "lukewarm" verses from the artists i just mentioned. and they'd still be hotter than him. i'm not hating. i'm just saying.

ok, enough with that rant. so tomorrow i just might be going to brooklyn. chillin wit my bud Sharina hopefully, and her uberly spectacular friends (that i haven't met. so how do i know they're uberly spectacular? cause they know sharina.) now, and i will ask this question. if you were to put all the artists of the world in one location, what would happen? would reality fold in upon itself and be reborn as something unlike anything any of us have every seen? would the sky turn purple and the grass turn white? would the Big Bang repeat itself and thus be proven? Or will the universe around said artists be revealed to be illusion? I mean come on. Green paper has monetary value. So anything is possible right?