i have fallen out of love with the man i am becoming.
he seems a bit too serious.
he’s too focused on his goals and not focused enough on shiny things and tattoos.
well, shiny things have never really caught my attention unless we count the bangles marinda james (now smith) wore everyday since kindergarten. i loved her first. she taught me to color in the lines.
the man i am becoming seems to not tolerate too much, which is cool – but it’s also getting rid of some of the dead weight (bad friends) that hung around.
there is no room for idiots, real-life assholes, and the incompetent.
i heard a 25 year old bragging on his latest number bump.
he had gone from 75 to 81. not a bad leap in a matter of 3 days – but you’re 25.
at 21 & sometimes 22 you’re allowed the foolish mistakes and bad decisions that have to happen to shape paradigms and shxt of the sort – but at 25 you are not.
your biggest fxck up should not have a name and a ponytail.
there should be no left over goals tucked under your bed with your box of porn and dirty plates.
the house you live in should not be shared with your folks – and your name should not have to be written on the orange juice.
you are grown.
and then there is:
the economy is bad
student loans are expensive
mom needs help paying bills
trying to get your credit together
just graduated college and need to get on the good foot
this is the point where i sigh and not go into any of the bullshit excuses listed above.
the man i am becoming – like the man i was – is still the most important thing.
he is to be loved with the mind – not the heart.
neither of us have quite learned a concrete method to break the mind (without sacrificing self).
so it’s safer.
the heart is easily broken after the promises and expectations. they all seem to shatter.
they subscribe to chinua (smart people know what i’m talking about).
the man i am becoming is closing this blog with the following:
there are no lucky people on this planet on which i live – just hustlers.