i know where my head is at

i remember a time not so many years ago i was doing things i wouldn't dream of to put food on the table and pay the rent, some of those things were honest and some not as. I was what i said i would never be or buy into a 'struggling artist'. no amount of positive thinking you create your own reality blah blah was helping. i lived desperate, it overcame me. my nightmare? a giant apple seeking to devour me. and it was. yes i was acting, my chosen art form, but for free or for very low wage nothing that would support life. my hard learned reality was no matter how close you are to the playwrite he WILL dump you to get produced. EVERY TIME. its a jungle and its about survival so i cant hate...easy though to loose yourself and your values in that jungle. easy to loose focus and get confused cuz your ass is hungry and not just for food.
today? well i'm ok. i was sick yesterday so i couldn't get it together to think about or express the extent of my thankfulness, my gratefulness. i'm not where i would like to be in life true. im oh so very late... but i work honest. i didn't rob, kill or compromise my values to put my humble meal on the table. I KNOW ME now. i can afford the luxury of my artified self (for now anyway). i can build and grow. i am thankful for this to things seen and unseen, to the dead and the living.
everyday is not sunshine, loli-pops and rainbows but its a day i know where my head is at, a road map i'm happy to own.

her eye inclined toward the pretty woman on the train

Her eye inclined toward the pretty woman on the train, the one with the softness of youth in her cheek and well appointed red coat and back zip black suede boot, the added indulgence. As the young woman played with her recent relaxed hair in her train window reflection, the old woman wondered if the young woman could feel her eyes climb up the inside of her thigh or hear the thoughts she entertained of devouring her like a child would a gum drop. This the tasty temptations of an old woman's morning metro ride.

ya folla me?

they call me chevy nova
x j hova
mind blowa
olda
no ordinary holda of word utterance
is this by chance a case of
fools gold?
molded,coded
for the fornicatin
peace saya's
playa's
of mind game
aint the same
as those with reg head
names
tame's the top
that matta's
not
to those not in the know
so
you can call me chevy
eva ready
to defend the
meaning
behind
ALL
names

some random shit

rock band needs so i can scream
fucked numb inside
no vaseline
can it be you heard not me?
you heard not me.
my words to you
like vomit stink
like vomit stink
friends say trust
you almost there
trusts just a word
the real cant bare
people they so hard
out there
cold like ice from fridgidars
they make me scared
but then i ask
why do i care?
a losing bet
haven't learned that lesson yet
pulsating pain we soon forget.
half full looks half empty again.
the other side tries to pull you in
where are the friends when this begins
where are the friends?
im hearing what my daddy said
he's living now among the dead
his words are never truer said
you start alone and their you end.
rock band dreams so i can scream
fucked numb inside
no vaseline
can it be you heard not me?
you heard not me
no worries all who read the line
just me inside my crying time
sometimes better left unsaid
some random shit....

n idea~