Today.

All I really want to write about is something with the title: “Of Penises and Vaginas”. *sigh* But my thoughts are so jumbled up right now, I think I’m just gonna write rubbish? Fuck. I really need to get a grip of my thoughts someday. And that’s why I tweet. By the freaking way, someone told me I really should get paid for my tweets. I really find it hard to see that as a compliment. My finger’s itch for something to write about…

But what can I say that hasn’t already been said?

I’m pressuring myself again, to write about something serious, but then I remember that there's no rush, God willing I'll be in School soon with more than enough weed and enough drama and more than enough time to vibe and exist, and document this existence. I'm just counting the days, biding my time, preparing for the immediate greatness till I finally graduate. A little bummed about the lack of romance in my life, I need her to be here, nibbling ears and soft kisses and lots of laughter. That being said, I think the dougie is a perfect dance to be danced with that grenade song. I do it with no shame.

I just finished reading a Christian novel: “A voice in the wind” by Francine Rivers, and I’m chilled out in the library. The silence of this moment comforts me. There's no music. There's no television, just the steady hum of the air conditioning, the click clacks of my keyboard and the beat of my heart, skips a couple every now and then, but it's all I good. I still smile. I still breathe.

I still live.

I've never been more grateful for every tear and every snarl or howl, for every hiccup on the road, for every hard time, I've never been more grateful, for all the whips and all the pain, all the anguish and none of the gain, I've never been more grateful. Because each step I took, whether it was in water or on fire, led me to this moment today. And as I look at my tomorrow, I see a glint in the reflection that steadily grows and blinds me from all the blemishes of my past, it's erased, washed out and I only see tomorrow. Each second, each minute, each hour, each day is a chance to start over, to overcome and to move on. To grow stronger, to grow smarter and to learn from it all.

Soon, I graduate. Many of my already graduated friends seem to think it’s really difficult out there. Maybe it was easy for them while in here? Instead of the dampness of this damning judgment of the outside world depressing the shit out of me, I look forward to the freedom. The endless possibilities of me being in my natural state? Of smoking whenever I want to without feeling any guilt? Of living my life the freaking way I want it? Yeah, Yeah…. Say it. Bla Bla. I’ve heard it all before.

I still prefer to see the shit in my half empty glass as delicious.

I'm simply in love with all the possibilities of life. Every sordid avenue, every delicious turn, and the long list of loves I'll peruse with such pride in years to come. I'll love some of the greatest human beings on this planet.

I have to.

But now, I still feel the pain. The sting. Shit still stings, ya know? I should have graduated. The pain that comes with the ‘rents giving you the You-Should-Have-Fucking graduated look anytime you ask for shit?

But I welcome this pain, I welcome this feeling of power that accompanies it. This is the lot I have, my kind has been underestimated for years and I can't wait to prove these archaic doctrines of doing things “in one way” completely and utterly wrong.

I can't wait to change the perception.

I can't wait to flex these muscles. I thought of this the other day: For every life luxury, there is a cost that has to be paid in integrity. I should write a pamphlet: Wise Words for Dummies.

Till Then. I’ll sweat. I’ll toil. I’ll bleed. I’ll be foolish.

Remember this. Bitch.

P.S. Do you deserve your Penis/Vagina?