way to go god! way to go.


there are those sleeping.

and i am sort of beefing because i have began to care about such a situation. i have too many friends who are very very talented, calling themselves writers, actors, dancers, singers, etc… but in real life they are mcdonalds employees or working third shift cleaning up urinal stains and dusting photos in some mogul’s office.

they are not that which they hoped to be over morning’s breakfast. they are they THAT that they have becoming. the cleaners and servers.

and please please please do not misinterpret what i say: i am not calling these friends of mine ‘losers’ or anything of the sort. i am simply trying to teach people that life is not about simply giving yourself a title and hoping it becomes real.

there are those who work hard at mcdonald’s – but after work they hit the studio, or the park or the desk and get those achievements out! those who have learned the hustle.

i call myself a writer. i am a writer. i don’t know how to be anything else.
i’ve been a writer since i was 5 and inspired by a story rudy huxtable wrote.
mine was better.
i am a writer.
i have self published two of my own works, and been featured in other publications.
i’ve had speeches read by higher-ups and had tears drop when the curtains closed at the stage play i wrote and co-produced.

that is what i do. i write.

it’s what keeps me alive.

i know to many people who are merely existing in this world – with nothing but a title.

DO IT!

—–

to describe how i feel having completed my first film, would be pointless because you still wouldn’t understand the GOOD in it all.
and i’ve have many dreams happen:
*my son is an arrogant genius (i love it)
*i have two books.
*multiple degrees and certificates.
*list goes on…and on…

but this is something else.
i guess even through the BS howard university put me through, everything worked out perfectly.
god thinks he’s slick – but i caught on.
way to go god! way to go!

“make me good god – but not yet”

(that one was for j-to-the-ill)

—–

and it’s sunday…
and everything fits into place, as it should on sundays.

there’s a peace that exists even in times of war.
darfur must have known such sundays.

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