March 17, 2011
Well, I tried to give myself some time to calm down. Futile. I'm so excited! Feels like I got jabbed with an adrenaline spike, a few hours ago. I couldn't sit still, now I'm ready to pass out, but still dancing mentally. You know how it is once the adrenaline wears off. Oh, I'm thrilled, don't misunderstand, but no match for nature.
A million thanks are in order! I am already in such a debt to you. I won't go on and on though, I'm sure you guys can imagine my excitement.
Yes, before I knew, even before I opened the big letter, that it would knock my off my feet!
Correction, I am not published alone. We, WE are published! Only a fool would claim it all for self after all you have done to get us here. And great job! I really like the masthead as it is, better than the illustration I sent. The way you have it now is much more appealing, cleaner. Perhaps from time to time I can get an artist to volunteer a piece to be featured. Who knows?
Yeah, I had changed my mind about sharing with my mom, but hopefully she will support me. I read through the package, consumed as if a third party, amazed by it all.
I'm in good spirits now. Sunday, ehhh, Sunday was prison at its best (worst). Uncool. But good writing comes out of every lockdown. How humble and kind of you to credit my talents. I credit you guys, and God.
As I told you, I don't mind the use of my name, but it's all at your discretion. It amounts to nothing without you at the wheel.
In other good news, I got a letter from my aunt today. She promises that the email addresses are coming, that she's been busy, but....well, she gushed about my writing, then told me that you guys are a blessing from God. Been hearing that a lot lately. You are!
Well, let me write her before I pass out. Love you guys, thanks for everything!
Elated,
A million thanks are in order! I am already in such a debt to you. I won't go on and on though, I'm sure you guys can imagine my excitement.
Yes, before I knew, even before I opened the big letter, that it would knock my off my feet!
Correction, I am not published alone. We, WE are published! Only a fool would claim it all for self after all you have done to get us here. And great job! I really like the masthead as it is, better than the illustration I sent. The way you have it now is much more appealing, cleaner. Perhaps from time to time I can get an artist to volunteer a piece to be featured. Who knows?
Yeah, I had changed my mind about sharing with my mom, but hopefully she will support me. I read through the package, consumed as if a third party, amazed by it all.
I'm in good spirits now. Sunday, ehhh, Sunday was prison at its best (worst). Uncool. But good writing comes out of every lockdown. How humble and kind of you to credit my talents. I credit you guys, and God.
As I told you, I don't mind the use of my name, but it's all at your discretion. It amounts to nothing without you at the wheel.
In other good news, I got a letter from my aunt today. She promises that the email addresses are coming, that she's been busy, but....well, she gushed about my writing, then told me that you guys are a blessing from God. Been hearing that a lot lately. You are!
Well, let me write her before I pass out. Love you guys, thanks for everything!
Elated,
BLOG Testing My Limits
Yesterday, Crips and Disciples…
Today, the Bloods.
I’m sick of the blood, so much blood. Where is the love?
And on go the gloves. Always the gloves, tighten my gloves, “You want it? Wassup?” sift out the men through fisticuffs. When is it enough? It’s never enough, bring on the drugs. Label us thugs, bang the war drums. Dum ditty dum.
Kick ass and chew gum. I’m all out of gum, and here they come. So weary I’m numb. Deaf, desperate and dumb. I miss my son! My daughter and son! Second to none. Wish I could run! What have we become?
Memories of men, living in sin, seeking the end. As filthy as pigs trapped in a pen.
The den of the devil, not on my level. I’m trying to rise! Surrounded by guys with hate in their eyes, plotting demise. The fall of the wise, ascension of wicked. Revoked my ticket and now I’m stranded. Up shit creek without a paddle and I can’t stand it.
Put my fist in it, wrist in it, in to the armpits. Holding my breath against the stench, made sick by the warmness. And Momma warned us, “Don’t you rush to grow up!” But I didn’t mind and sought treasure, found trouble, tribulations and throw up.
Sew up the rents in my soul, psychological shanks are stabbing me, destiny nabbing me, ghosts with tatted teardrops are jabbing me. No singing rhapsody. Rapture’s reversed to retrogression. Down on my knees, pleading God see. I’ve learned my lesson.
Blessing seem effervescent, an oasis in the desert. You say a mirage, I say a fascade. Guess we’re at odds.
Damn luxury cars, designer clothes, certified stones, mansions, estates, ya’ll keep it. I’m great, just give me home!
The rigmarole’s too much on my bones and now my knees’re weak. Dreading deathly quiet when the G’s speak. Trees leak sap slowly each summer, I wonder if it’s sweet enough to wake me from this slumber?
My number 2’s ready, steady and poised, man amongst boys, just resting, preparing for forever because they’re testing…testing…testing.
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