"Change is never painful; Only resistance to change is painful."
Buddha (via elige)
(Source: mikefrawley, via chasnabeats)
K-os - 4321
What we fighting for?
3-2-1, I don’t know what for
ok *nods*
people can surprise you. after my outburst yesterday,which was obviously fuelled by a few small things that blew up and caused an implosion, issues which didn’t even really involve him when you consider the bigger picture, he called me this morning when i was just about to get in the bath. told me to “contain my craziness”, walked me through the whole episode of the day before, presented a very logical response to the irrational and emotional messages i’d sent him. in short he put me in my place. told me off. and in many ways he was right.
i have to say i respect that, i almost kind of like it. i had nothing to say in response.
refreshing to speak to someone who can correct you without insulting you; usually when I pop off at the mouth (although it doesnt happen often) im unstoppable and nobody can tell me anything. i like that he challenged me.
mr unfinished business, the star of my aforementioned bizarre dream and the subject of most of my man-related musings, was rarely ever capable of standing up to me like that.
mr. less significant has pleasantly surprised me.
there might be potential in this thing after all.
The Roots - Ain’t Sayin Nothin New
Yo, head lost, sippin this Lambic Framboise
Spittin it for like whoever demand the answer
What’s the cure for this hip-hop cancer? Equivalent
to this avalanche of black snow, rap flow
to get my people thinkin mo’, we at the brink of war
What does it all mean? What’s it all for?
With knowledge of yourself, then you’re through the first door
My people hungry and thirst for more ‘NEXT music’, explore…
(via 1-2-you-know-what-to-do)
(Source: tupac, via welldressedhoodlum)
(via welldressedhoodlum)
and so..
..the fruitless pursuit of reciprocity form an insiginifcant party led me to ask myself who is significant. there is unfinished business i am running from. and so i composed a text on my phone last night, about to send it i fell asleep. i had the craziest dream. in it, i went to visit the would-be recipient of my text message at his new apartment. his behaviour was manic and socially inept in the most upfront way - almost like a child with acute autism. i poured out my heart, recieved by him with a series of twitchy facial expressions and replies that had nothing to do with what i’d said. i then noticed that a door which had previously been open in the apartment was now closed, when neither one of us had closed it. i opened the door and there was a person hiding in the bed but some of her hair was highlighted by the pillow- at the foot of the bed was another lump concealed by the covers, and it was squirming and beginning to cry - a baby??? I came back out the room asking him what the hell was wrong with him, why did he choose to continue to make people suffer. More manic expressions and weird sentences from him. then another body stirring under a duvet piled up on the couch, another child waking up, but older than the first one. insane! i just turned and left, running out of the apartment and into the lift.
i pushed buttons and went between the internal car park to the 3rd floor, and up and down and up and down, back and forth, unable to make a decision about which floor to get off at. i eventually got off at level 3, the same floor his apartment was on, i think - as though i had to see the proof for myself one more time, as though i had to give him one more piece of my mind. when i got off i was grabbed into a party in one of the other apartments but all of the people i knew there were just acquaintances, some of them from way back, people i barely knew or havent seen for years. and the food was awful - i heard somebody say it had been cooked by Glenn, one of my aunts’ notorious former longterm boyfriends who my grandma had always hated, lol. i left the party and got back in the lift, this time to go up to the 5th floor. but when i got there the door opened to a barrier , it was a forbidden floor because workmen and builders were either fixing something that had gone wrong up there or were still building apartments. either way it looked dangerours, unfinished. one of the builders programmed the lift to go back down and pointed my direction to a warning light in the lift that said ‘addicted to traction.’ then i woke up.
the moral of the story? maybe its to never send important texts at night when your mind is too clouded with sleep to make objective editorial decisions. any thoughts welcome.
