What the fuck am I about yo? I just can’t seem to get past the sex drugs and money.
I can’t remember the last time I waited for love. The chase confuses things and ain’t nobody got time for that. I’m going to die alone. Really alone. I’m fucking so much my dick got raw. I am on IR for a week right now. I’m going to read some Cosmo magazines and a Bronte novel or something and try to get in touch with my feminine side. Perhaps then I could better understand the language of love.
I got a call from my old homegirl and them. Guess I been busy. I see labor day on the horizon. But no rush to swing down to Uptown. I have limited myself to no druggie friends. Not because i partake but because I’d rather not be the only one not shoving a straw up they nose, cooling around a table watching TV, when there are bars full of good spirited people who are interested in joining you in the bathroom for etc. I guess I’m on my high horse because my addictions are positive and it feels good to walk without vice. If you don’t count the addiction to pussy.
I’m chasing money more than that though. I had to drop a ho because she wasn’t worth the money i was losing when i was with her. This is rude. But this is true. It was probably true before but it’s obvious now. This life is too short to not do whatever the fuck i want. I came back from central America in April and kept chilling through my birthday at the start of summer. Now we in the latter part of the year and I’m playing catch up. My brother talking bout New Orleans and my homey Weezy talying Europe. Sallie Mae talking loans. All that got me working 3 jobs and still trying to hustle off the clock. I don’t have to worry about my addiction to pussy now because chasing this money ain’t leave no time to bother up on nothing new. But trust me I ain’t mad. I know how that money stack when you focused on that and nothing else. Shit I just got to find time to study for this GRE.
I see the end of the road, that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Ain’t nothing coming easy.