Grow

At some point I wasn't 18 years old. I don't remember when it occurred. I was in high school, then in college, then I woke up and was arguing with the Marshal's Office in Bushwick, Brooklyn about why they shouldn't have my fucking car because its against the law to steal, "you evil turd". I didn't say that last part, because I would never be so rude, but boy was i thinkin' it!

Growing up is fun. I have a beautiful apartment. It still, after 2 years, takes my breath away . I enjoy La La Gold, she gets me from point A to point B, yes with noises attached and switch in her movement, but don't we all get to our next destination with a little grievance. I enjoy growing, but don't remember doing it, but can look back and tell you what I've learned on the way. I sat and bantered with Pam about blogging. She is old-school, you see. She is from the black family that, "never lets you see 'them' cry" and "suck it up" and "this too shall pass" and "don't put all your shit in the street, it'll stink" era. I get it and considered taking it down, especially when I clicked to the "next" blog and saw a penis. I got flustered that it was not mine and should not be seeing this. The way you do when you come across a "dirty" movie and become indignant and embarrassed as if at this point we have not all at least touched one. I digress.

Growing is fun. I say, FUN, because my stories have become tails you should tell your children. Growing has become what I would like to detest the most, what we also call, experience. And experience is why we are here. I trust one day I will stop fighting these waves and float. All along God is somewhere in the shadows laughing at the joys, (that I sometimes call pain) of living.