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Laid back; chilled out.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

SPRUNG-NESS.

I'd ask for one of y'all to slap me so I could snap out of it, but it wouldn't work. Trust me.

It's like getting hit by a bus, but living to tell the tale. Like skydiving and the parachute didn't open, but somehow surviving the fall. Like getting bent at some club and going home with a chick who looked like Meagan Good, then waking up the following morning to find out it really was Meagan Good. That good.

Against all odds, impossible odds, it's working. It's been working, but for the first time I really think it could work. I, who never before really tried to make things work, actually now works overtime at it.

There's just enough fire and ice, sugar and spice,
Peace and strife, things I like.
Whether in split or splice, there's always the sign
That everything's fine.

*************************************

Now, off to bed before I make an ass of myself. Or is it too late?

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

that there where you are is a good place. simama papo hapo ambapo ulipo, and good luck to you! and hope she knows what we know ;)

Militant said...

WTF!!!!
Nigga you high?

|d®| said...

>CBThree: Thanks. I need that luck. Scratch that - I feel lucky.

>Militant: I'm high on something, that's for sure! And no, not on purple haze.

Anonymous said...

Life is so unpredictable.....don't u think:-)

|d®| said...

Yup. I'm convinced I don't know anything anymore. And I thought I did.

Anonymous said...

smittens is it?

|d®| said...

Alas, it is so. Or is it whipped? lol!