Nightmares and Dreamscapes...

I was running as fast as I possibly could. Each stride burned more than the last, every breath seared pain into my failing lungs... If there was one thing I knew, I knew I wasn't going to make it.

The faster I ran the more narrow the gap between us became. I was beginning to realize that there was no way I could keep this pace up, and that even if I did, there was ABSOLUTELY no doubt I would soon be caught. And when that happened, well, I would definitely be too worn out from all the stupid running to do anything worth a damn.

So, that was it then... The decision was practically already made for me, I had to turn and fight.

I felt like I was ready, kinda. Once upon a time a very wise man said to me, "running from it will not save you." Why the fuck not? WHY?!! Jeez...

... Stupid wise man, stupid wisdom, stupid ellipses...

FUCK!

And so then, distracted by the wise man's ridiculous proverb and the world-deafening terror slowly closing in on me, I tripped. And not one of those... "Foot-gets-caught-while-walking-look-back-like-there-was-something-crazy-on-the-ground-and-find-out-your-clumsy-ass-tripped-over-nothing" kind of trips. I'm talking a "full-on-chin-and-right-arm-skin-peeling-home-plate-stealing-slide-across-bare-cold-flesh-ripping-concrete" kind of trip.

My exciting counter-attack strategy was crushed in a mere half-moment's clumsiness. I was doomed.

As I laid there, awaiting my tragic fate under the diminishing half-moon light, my executioner sauntered into view. The weapon in her left hand now seemed more like a jagged sword than the switchblade I thought I saw earlier. And, as I watched its reflection glimmer toward me through the darkness, with nothing left inside me but fear and bad judgement, I closed my eyes.

I felt her kneel down beside me, heard her hot misty breath tumbling toward me through the cold night air. I opened my eyes.

She was beautiful.

Her hair bounced around her head in wild coiling ebony ribbons. Her smooth bronze skin shimmered invincibly under the evening stars. And her eyes... her eyes were like two glistening pools of infinity, echoing her lusty intensity at me through the soul-consuming darkness. 

She leaned even closer. Then, looked deep into my eyes... and stabbed me. And stabbed me. And stabbed me.

I tried to move, but the stabbing... It’s just really hard to move when you’re getting stabbed, trust me on that. It's the worst.

My beautiful murderer looked down at me laying there, leaking vital life essence all over the disgusting city sidewalk, parted her lips coyly and said, “Stocking up and saving more on the things my family needs. That works for me!”

*sigh*

I hate falling asleep with the TV on.

HAPPY NEW YEAR DOPE FIENDS!

I know what you’re thinking.

“Damn, these niggas ain’t post since December. They ain’t no real bloggers, they just phonies!”

And you’d be correct. We haven’t posted since December but real bloggers we are.

And that’s why our New Year’s Resolution is to write more consistently on this here old blog.

Another question may spring to mind:

“Ain’t it February niggas? Didn’t we celebrate Martin Luther The KANG Day already? Didn't Valentine's Day just pass”

And again, the answer is yes. And please stop calling us niggas. We are human beings too...damn.

As you know, most niggas make silly New Year’s Resolutions that come February, they have already
forgot about them. SO we decided to bypass that shit and just start in February. Now we only have to
keep this charade up for 11 more months, and that’s better than 12.

Oh, so you don’t believe me about my theory on New Year’s Resolutions, well isn’t that perfect. Let’s
take a look at some of the NYR’s some of you and your friends may have already failed at.

“I’m going to go to the gym 3 times a week”

Sure you went to the gym 3 times a week. And I mean that. You did go to the gym 3 times a week that
first week of the New Year. But then shit got real. Food got good. Drinks got served and by the 3rd week in Jan, you were down to once a weekend. But it’s all good. I don’t hate.
Get that summer body right in your mind.

Your mind has now shifted into the “I’ll go the gym when I’m too broke for happy hour” mood. This doesn’t last long as your gym membership expires for more happy hour money. We’ve all been here before. But fret not; come March, you’ll be right back making false promises.

“I’m going to find a new man/woman”

My favorite one of all. For a lot of you all, 2011 was a miserable year for love. You got cheated on.
The person you were talking to didn’t want to get serious. Your significant other left for inappropriate
dealings with a former flame (or at least threatened it). The point is you live alone, you die alone. And
for this set of people, dying alone is no longer an option for this year. So how’s the soulmate hunting
going? Well, after hitting the club every weekend, happy hour 3 nights a week and the bookstore you
happened to stumble into, your back at stage one. Alone. And now you’ve entered the “I’m going to tell myself I’m not going to meet anyone in hopes that my cynical approach leads someone to me” phase.

Good luck and Godspeed with that bullshit.

“I’m going to focus on getting that promotion/new job”

And so you did. That first week back to work, you stayed overtime, extra time and sacrificed a weekend. You felt fucking amazing. Then week 2 came and after a Sunday of drinking, Monday sucked and you left early. The rest of the week you were out by 4:56pm. When your supervisor asked you to work this weekend, you almost cursed them out for the audacity to ask you some crazy shit. And now we’re back to normal.

And you hate your job again. And so fuck the promotion, it's time to put in your two weeks and fly this coop. But you can't really put in your two weeks until you find that new job and in this economy and your complacency, it is going to be tough. But I admire your ability to say things and not follow through, simply amazing.

Whatever you may be, take my advice and hold off on making NYR’s at New Year’s. Besides, the Chinese think you’re stupid too. New Year’s is closer to February…or September for all my Jewish brothers out there.

SHALOM niggas.

YOU AIN'T GOT NO MOTHER FUCKING HATERS!

Seriously,

You don’t.

But I don’t blame you for thinking that people hate on you with such ferocity you feel the need to talk about them all the time. No, it is not your fault.

Like my white predecessors before me and those who will certainly come after, I blame this on rap music. Although it's my favorite genre of music, I will not excuse what it has done to an entire generation of youth.

You see, it wasn’t until the popularity of rap music became mainstream that people began to have all these mother fucking “haters”. Let me define this term for you as best I can.

HATERS: derived from the Latin for jerk. Used popularly by people who are insecure and project the hate of themselves onto others.

So these haters people speak of, who are they? Where are they? How often do you encounter them in your life that you feel the need to constantly to talk about them. I’ll tell you how often.

Never.

Never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever in the Everests of never evers do you encounter these haters.

A hater is someone who is on a mission to see your life go wrong. They want nothing more than to see you fail in all of your endeavors. In extreme cases, these haters might even enjoy seeing you dead. Yes, dead. Now, if you have these type of people in your life then (more than likely) yo' ass did something to deserve it. (Take a second and think about this before you read on. DO IT!)

This is how you look when you talk about your haters

It takes a ton of effort to go out of your way to ensure that someone is failing at life. So much effort that said hater’s only focusing on you not making it. But maybe you think highly of yourself and like to feel that you are special enough to someone that they would do this for you. But what you’re most likely encountering is this person.

Someone who disagrees with you. Someone who does not support your goals and dreams. Someone who thinks you suck at what you do and therefore offers you no support. Someone who may in fact call you names and make fun of you and crack jokes to offend you. But this certain “someone” is not a hater. No they are just someone that you don’t need in your life. But a hater they are not.

There a lot of people, places, things and ideas that I do no support. I don’t wish for their demises as much as I don’t give a fuck about what their doing.

SO for all you music artists out there, I’m not a hater because I don’t support your music. Your music sucks, and you are a complete lame... Ask yourself, who's supporting that? The answer starts with "NOT" and ends with "ME".

And for all you ladies at the club, did you ever think that girl was over there talking about you because you and your friend are talking about her? Its called reciprocity, not hating. You attract the things you project. Ergo if you are talking shit about them bitches... Then, them bitches will be talking shit about yo' ass!

And for all the people who read this entry and still have the ignorant audacity to insist that there is some "League of Evil Haters" out there absolutely bent on seeing your life spent in total misery... Well, I hope that they find a way to succeed.

Because it's clear to see that what you really want is an excuse for yourself.

Did I touch a nerve with that one?

...


With yo' hatin' ass!

What's wrong with you people?

Seriously. What the fuck are you being so mean about? I've learned that the longer I've been on this earth, the less I sweat the small stuff. Besides, whether you believe it or not, there are always people doing worse than you. So, try and have a little consideration for someone other than yourself. Just try it, you'll thank me later.



So there you are, at a restaurant with your dreamboat or whoever and it seems that your food is taking forever to come out. You start getting frustrated that it's been almost a half hour since you ordered, your water glass is dryer than mummy scrotum, and EVERYONE around your table is toasting refilled wine glasses and gobbling down piping hot plates of decadent flavor. Now, I know what you want, you want to choke the shit outta that waiter/manager/person you're dating? but please, before you get to choking, stop... And instead don't, get to choking. 

Breathe. Collect yourself and think about what's really going on. Ok, so maybe the food and drink is not coming out as fast as you'd prefer this evening, no need for that to be the only thing you focus on. What you so easily forgot is that you're there with another person. How about you do what you came there for? Have a good time. Tell a joke. Share a story. Reminisce on good times. Do anything else, just do not waste your time focusing on negative shit. 9 times in 10, that thing that's bothering you does not have you at the forefront of its current existence. So why should you? Anyway, all I'm saying is if you focus on things that make you happy, things that make you happy will find their way around you.  And if you spend the majority of your time drowning yourself in negativity, don't act all surprised when you find out it's killing you.

It's easy to dance like this when your nipples are out

Also, yes I know this was an escape from the usual stuff I write about but hey, this is what came out when I started writing. So please, Dopefiends, just try and avoid being a dick your whole life. Just try it, see how it feels, and if it doesn't fit you can always take it back and get back to standard dickery. Well, that's all I got for now yall.