i'm awake again...can't sleep...
so i had a great convo with j about life as a whole...lasted a few hours...i guess that's what prompted me to go break out the old journals...
i've been journaling/writing since 2001...i had another journal that i lost somewhere... so my life is all there, in blue red and black ink...i remember someone telling me that they can't stand to write cause then you have the opportunity to go back and read not only the good, but everything that went wrong as well...
after reading mine, i see what she means.
i have been through so...much...shit in my life. shit that i had blocked out.
*pause*
shit i've never told anyone.
but then again, only one person has ever asked. one. out of so many. cause its one thing to talk. but its another thing when someone actually wants to listen to you. really truly shuts up and listens.
i want to tell my story...but why? where does this need come to share all the experiences that make you you? and what will it do for you? will it be the sigh that i finally need?
*pause*
i honestly don't know how i made it so far.
i gotta go think on some things.
(for rae-rae, rafi and dev, and ...)
let it be meeeeeeee....was it me? did i listen? lord, now i'm insecure.
ReplyDeletelet me cheer you up, went to buy condoms and everyone in the store knew me. Girl behind the counter that fills my bc pills was like, "Girl I know you not looking for a pregnancy test."
No, it gets worse.
Then, there were only men at the registers. So, I'm like, these condoms and a piece of gum. Notice, not a pack but a piece.
Somewhere along the lines I was dropped on my head.