This is the one about the stolen shoelaces.
The one about the devil, and the troubles he faces.
This is the one where I tell you a secret,
only you’re not listening, so you don’t even hear it.
This is the one that’s just one from a bunch,
just one, like the many times we’ve both had lunch.
This is the one with the things you should know,
so without much ado, let’s get on with the show!
Sorry, it’s just me. Dramatic entrance and all.
Well, well, well.. look what the cat dragged in.
Ah, I missed you too, dear friend.
Soo.. I see your lame rendition of poetry, is it safe to assume you’re a broken-hearted bitch again?
Hahahaha! You crazy, dawg! Nah, I’m just waxing, you know how it is.
No, not really. I’m sure you’ll remedy that.
Word. However, if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to rhyme. Wutcha think?
I guess, if you have to.
Very well, let’s begin!
Lately I’ve been searching for that with which to bind the loose bits and pieces that rattle my mind. As I looked at the ground, as I’m known to often do, I couldn’t help but notice the top of my shoes. The laces were there, holding things together, but they looked pretty frayed.. nay! I’d say they were weathered. It was time for new kicks, so I ran out and replaced them. My new kicks were awesome, half black and half white, but there was just a small problem, they were one size too tight! I tried to return them, but the guy laughed in my face, he said “Sorry, you’ve worn them. Now, get out of this place!”, I said, “Listen here, fucker”, with quite a mean glare, “I guess I’ll just buy another fucking pair.”
So I bought a size up and everything was good, but now I have two pairs, no thanks to that dude. It all got me thinking, the shoes and their fit, bout how I can’t return them once they’ve been where they’ve been. About how I’m now the devil, where once I was a man. I’d been filled with hatred, and I had valid reasons, but I held on to shit for way too many seasons. It was time to let go, to put shit to rest, to drop all my anger and to take a deep breath. I did what I did, and then shit got worse, I was starting to think that perhaps I was cursed. I got sad, and worried, and lonely, and scared; and that’s when I realized that nobody cared. Nobody cares if I live or die, now that makes me ask myself, “What the fuck? WHY?”
I asked those around me and got plenty answers.. “You’re crazy.”, “You’re selfish.”, “You’re not much, but a cancer.”, “You’re scary.”, “You’re creepy.”, “You’re a pretty mean guy.”
Well shit, if I knew that guy I’d probably WANT him to die. I sat down with myself and tried to look inside, trying to see myself through someone else’s eyes. I’ve been trying to change since the day I was born, but there doesn’t seem to be a standard to which I conform. OMG, does that mean there’s something wrong with me? Or will people just see what they want to see? Then, at the right moment, there’s this thing that I read..
It’s not what people call you, but what you answer to instead.
..and that’s when it hit me, I don’t answer to a motherfucking thing. I make my rules, I am who I am. That’s who I am. I live my life by what I feel is right. Am I always right? Hells no! But am I always wrong? Fuck. That. Noise.
Dude, you’ve stopped rhyming.
What?? Oh.. right.. who cares. There are a lot of people out there who don’t like the way I live my life. I should watch what I say, I should be more.. what’s the word.. malleable. What-motherflipping-ever. I didn’t get here by bending over. I didn’t get here by mincing words. I say what I feel, when I feel it. Sometimes I have no idea what the feeling is, and I say something that’s hurtful or confusing. I can only apologize, but I will not restrain myself for anyone. I dare anyone who looks down upon me to imagine their world without me in it. Go on, for one second, do it. What would be different? Where would you be? Is it a better place? Awesome. Get the fuck off my blog and cut me out of your mind entirely. Live a happy, better life. Did I bring you something of benefit? Did your life get better because I said or did something? You’re welcome.
Dude, calm the fuck down.
I’m calm. I’m as calm as I’ve been in ages. I’ve let go of the anger. I have no more enemies. Life is motherfucking wonderful. Those out there that wanna talk about me, let them. The more they speak my name, the more the universe fuels me. I don’t hate them. I’m the protagonist. I’ve blasted through adversity much worse than someone talking negatively about me. Haters are going to hate. Talkers are going to talk. I still stand tall.
You need a puppy.