Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Half A World Away



Don’t close your eyes (half a world away)
We’re all on the run, from something we fear inside (half the world away)
We don’t really know ourselves at all
-- Esthero

I looked at my watch and the time said 6:15 p.m.

The day had progressed in and around me, and underneath me while I was lost in my thoughts.

I had a dream that I walked past an auditorium filled with religious zealots, listening captivated by Joyce Meyers.

I continued to walk.

But woke myself because I was going nowhere.

Who the cap fit, let them wear it -- Robert Nesta Marley

I can't quite understand why women send men pictures of their cunts.

I mean...does that turn you on the thought of him jackin' off to your hairy taco?

You s'posed to feel important if you go to his house and see teeth marks on the Polaroids you mailed to him?

Now, I'm into some freaky shit, but certain shit is just whack.

What's next? Pussy Postcards?

Shit is different indeed.

I lose my cool
Whenever you're around
I can't help myself...
- SWV

I wish I was game for a threesome. Two men and me.

Bawk. Bawk.



Somebody tell that girl that her ass too big
I give it to her right and she let me live
Can't eat that, cuz there's no relationship
I beat that, the next day you called in sick
-- Ghostface

When I was with Officer Friendly, he used to try to kill me. Coochie would feel like hamburger meat, no bun.

Run home with just enough time to gingerly sit down in a tub of hot water to soak her so I could sit on her for 8 hours, change clothes, and head to the j-o-b.

Roll up into work looking like Beetlejuice.



Addicted to what the dick did, I suppose.

Oh, she may be weary
Them young girls they do get wearied
Wearing that same old shaggy dress, yes
But when she gets weary
You try a little tenderness
-- Otis Redding

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Is Otis talking about...talking about...fuckin'?



Even though Otis wasn't fuckable to me.



With a face like that, I s'pose that muthafucka had to try ALOT of tenderness.



You're as cold as ice
You're willing to sacrifice our love
You never take advice
Someday you'll pay the price, I know...
- Foreigner

If you want an answer today, it's no. But ask me tomorrow. Odds are 50/50 that I may change my mind.

Don't be so shocked.

Love is a gamble.

And scared money can't win.

We don’t really know ourselves at all...


You won't learn anything about yourself hanging around here.

Git.
|

11 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Poor Otis. But singers need a little less game and, hell, I've heard women say some crazy mess about K-Ci, so anything's possible.

As for shots of the nuuh, well there must be men out there feelin' that sorta thing. Don't get me wrong, y'all got alotta beautiful attributes, I'm just not sure a picture you might find in an OB/Gyn's office is gonna do the trick.

That shirt in the pic reminds me how tired I am of the long-sleeved striped, now overly 'in' but not really fashionable, guy shirt. Whatever. This is your blog, lemme stop my rambling.

August 24, 2005 6:43 PM  
Blogger Nina MM said...

Where's your blog, O? LOL

August 24, 2005 6:46 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Funny. I'm starting to think that I am a blog-freeloader. Maybe there's some unspoken rule that to really play you gotta get your own. I'm guest blogging tomorrow at the Kajuana Show.

G'night

August 24, 2005 11:01 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Okay, so the addiction is growing. "You won't learn anything about yourself hanging around here." If we listen, won't our choices tell us a bit about who we are?

O

August 25, 2005 10:53 AM  
Blogger Nina MM said...

But that's a process that happens separate and apart from what you read here. If you interpret my words and morph them into a semblance of your own reality is a task that you do away from this page. Yanno?

August 25, 2005 11:13 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

No morphing necessary. Your words, the hammering outside, my trip to the store...all different parts of my reality. And all a byproduct of various choices (except maybe the hammering).

My creating you as the hip free-thinker whose just a bit more in control of her intellectual freedom than most, that's some morphing that may or may not be accurate. But even that creation/interpretation tells me a little something about me.

We could do this written dance thing ad infinitum, but I'd just as soon move on to whatever you've got coming next. Oh, is millimeter a nickname from childhood?

August 25, 2005 11:33 AM  
Blogger Nina MM said...

That shit made a whole rack of sense in the shadow of my response. Quit making me look bad at my own place. ;-)

Nina Millimeter. Think about it. Then we can talk about it.

You know I'on know what's next. Or maybe you don't? LOL

August 25, 2005 12:16 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

***Love is a gamble. And scared money can't win.***

YAP! Truth.

Feelin ya on the hairy tacos...that is some shit i'm not feelin. Ask me for one and nigga you may not see me no more. Period.

Pooor Otis. I guess he wasn't all that cute was he? Shit. Video killed the radio star ferreal.

And why are we looking at beetlejuice at work? May as well make them mf coworkers turn to dust while your at it.

August 25, 2005 2:14 PM  
Blogger Nina MM said...

Iice...you're as ignorant as I am. And that's a compliment. LOL

August 25, 2005 2:49 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you kindly :)

August 25, 2005 3:32 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oooh, I feel real, REAL dumb about now. Yeah, couldn't put the two together. Guess your posts just don't make you sound like a "beretta in the boot" kinda lady.

Or maybe you're bein' all metaphorical and too deep for commoners like myself. Either way, I'll be back for more later. Ciao

August 25, 2005 6:09 PM  

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