i have followed the trail of our DNA to my very own front porch. i was searching for some psycho-analytical clarity followed with the kind of closure they throw into the last four minutes of full house episodes.
pussed out like weaksauce on sweet potato fries. would it be the same concept if the item on hand were a mere...say..rank purple sock? it would. and still...i'd do nothing.
i've got love in my body and i want nothing more than to fix someone too far gone.
it's no longer about reclaiming what is mine.
if there's one thing i've short-listed with knowledge since youth, it's the desire to fight for actions through love instead of through rules, laws or fear.
i'm not angry this time. i'm just fighting global warming.
they miswrote jezebel's part of the bible, mistook her for a sleazebag when her veins ran thick with loyalty and feminism.
..but what i thought was one jezebel sleeping on my couch..as it turns out was nothing more than a sick fuck like king tut.
(i learned this from the sex scene on page 40, and the information thereafter used to explain carnal cries.)
however, this entire situation has nothing to do with the successive point in my life right now and how at peace i am with E V E R Y T H I N G.
i'm allowed to be proud of people i love for their accomplishments, small in some respects but large in their own.
an ex-lover, a best friend, and a best friend's ex-lover;
my future wants that.