DREAMS

momma i got dreams, but dreams don’t keep the lights on….

Not too sure where I’m going with this thought… i’m a little writer-rusty.

I have a final tomorrow that I’m not feelin too good about. But then again, story of my semester. I’m over it. Times like these (finals, graduations, banquets, tears) make me wonder if I’ll look back and regret such luckluster academic effort. In the end I guess I’ll be like lady justice, and I’ll be chillen there with my balance/scale thing, seein if it was really all worth it. And yeah. I think it was.
I met a girl during work (no, this is not goin where you are assuming) a couple of weeks ago. When I found out she was a senior I was like “damn, you must be hella sad that it’s all coming to an end”. And she goes: “no, I’m actually really excited to get out of school and to have a fresh-start”. I took in what she said and I thought for a minute. And then I was like: “dang, you tried really hard in school, huh?” And she said it like this: “yeap”.
Thinking about that made me realize that I’m gonna be hella hella hella sad when all this comes to an end. I guess it says a lot about me; i’m not too sure if it’s good or bad (i.e. i’m a dumbass)…(i’m sure it’s a little bit of both). But yeah. When all is said and done, all we can really ask ourselves is if it was worth it… cuz you can’t do everything, you can’t have everything. If you could go back in time, there is always something (even if it’s small) that you would do differently. I think I might dwell on that too much tho.

and that’s okay. cause i think i’ll be alright.

i tried to convey that to my mom in my mother’s day letter to her that Dick composed for me. it was along the lines of how i don’t want her to worry about  me, because even when it seems like i don’t know what i’m doing, i’m pretty sure that i’m going to be okay. and in knowing that, i guess that means that i know what i’m doing. and i do. I’m not too sure how much sense this is making.

I’m pretty ridiculous, and it’s pretty ridiculous that God brought me to where I am so far.
Is it then still ridiculous to trust that in the end I’m going to be alright?
This makes me feel better about things a lot of the time.

and that’s okay.

empathizee

my homie spill out his heart,
and i can just hear him out, and like braile:
i feel you dawg. i feel what u mean.

they “hmm’s…”

despite always having something to say,
i kinda feel like just listening.

meet me

where strong people crumble
and eyes full of sorrow speak of more appreciation than spoken words.

where introductions mean more
and being-there is no longer taken for granted.

because… you’re there. and not somewhere else.
and you sit. and say nothing. and silence is a novel’s worth of words.

and afterwards. you smile. and for some reason, although you’ve smiled so many times before, this time it just melts in. and you think about it, and you can still say that God is good.

try (again)

since january 20th–when this semester began–i had 6 midterms.
to butcher an old japanese adage and a converse wade campaign:

fall down 6 times. stand up 7.

it was a good day

today was kind of funny. i guess i randomly felt like doing a lot of things i haven’t done in a while. i played basketball and i decided to write (look at me now), and i randomly appreciated my sister. [don't tell her tho. her heds big enuff].

i wake up every morning feeling a little different every time. it’s like a hook to a song: can’t it be all so simple then? sometimes it’s yes and sometimes it’s no. then it repeats like a coda. i just decided (right now) that if my life was a song, there would be three parts.

1. sad eric
2. happy eric
3. the beatitudes (the beginning verses).

i guess what my sister had to say to me was a bridge between verses i was dabbling in. randomly. we complain to each other… a lot. we give each other good words… almost never. so, today was a good day.

aloysius is peeking.

dear mama

happy birthday!

you are appreciated.

try

altho we are dead and imperfect,
it is the fight that keeps us alive.

jus to get by

today i saw a little black girl on a razor scooter almost get blasted by a car.
since we were in a van, we were obstructing the view on the crosswalk, so the car couldn’t see her crossing the street. and she stopped hard, inches away from the little girl. it had the driver all shook, but not the little girl. she just kick-pushed away.
just like that. kick, push. kick, push.
i feel like that’s how it should be. life throws a lot of shit at you sometimes. and sometimes you almost die (literally and figuratively) because of what other people do. but the winners are the ones that just re-up and get back at it.

they
throw your hands up in the sky and say,
we don’t care what people sayyy.

i do this for

kfbc boys cause i have to show them love… the things i wish i could say to them in person.
my family because i wish we could sit down and real talk sometimes. real talk.
people that can’t see how beautiful it is when i do me and you do you.

like when we watched you change into somebody we no longer knew because of a girl. and how you never quite came back. i say that one day we will make amends–because that is what good people do–but i’m not gonna lie, it’s going to be hard for me. to her, to him.

like that one time we bobsledded down that hill with my car in neutral.

like how we used to always play in that damn summer league, and we never won a single game for 3 seasons. but we still didn’t give a damn.

like how we,
have late night conversations at the crib
get fat
make fun of people behind their backs. and we go too far.
never get salty over anything
do us.