"Smoke That Kush" by Lil Wayne...let's make a toast to you and me...
I'm not feeling all that damn magical. I'm feeling that normal depression; that solemnity everyone is accustomed to.
That standard blue.
But it's not boo-hoo sad where your dreams are a long street of dilapidated buildings and your hopes are deflated balloons just before the biggest birthday bash of your life.
It's just that standard sadness when you feel sad about your life, what you did, what didn't do, what you do, what you can't do. But at the same time, your fine with the mess.
I realize that I don't try and that I could do better but messing up your life takes energy. Even though the attempts I have made have been half assed, they were genuine in the beginning and enough false starts will exhaust you.
I'm exhausted. I've milked the system and the system has packed up and moved. And I'm not following this time.
So, you don't like what I do. You think my values and my integrity and my morals (and all those other things that separates us from the other animals in the kingdom) are compromised. You are right. It is a shame that this is how I think I should be; that this is how I live. Nonetheless, it's still my life. I have to wake up and be me every morning. I have to rummage through my memories everyday. Chill and be glad you aren't me.
You don't get to judge at the manifestation of my psychosis. If anything, pray for this girl. And pray that I pray. But I loved you. I wasn't using you. And the vitriol comes from the fact that you are angry and upset and feel betrayed and there is nothing I can do.
The emails and phone calls don't mean shit because all the conversation in the world has never been known to put hearts or soulmates back together.
