Thursday, April 2, 2009


I just woke up.

Man, I need to take a day off when I would sleep, and only sleep. That day would not be today. Am going to write 10 scenes now. And 10 scenes from another project.

Am not complaining, though.

While other people are losing their jobs, I am given more work than I could chuck a shoe at.

Some people made comments that I have no friends. I was like, "Whuh?" They judged me simply because when I go to clubs, I tend to stay out of everyone's way.

I would sit alone. And read. And eat. And drink.

I don't dance. I don't sing. I don't pretend to be everyone's best friend. I don't pretend I'm glad to see anyone, if I'm not.

I'm no fun. Because it doesn't feel right to dance and sing at any place other than where the women are mostly good-looking and close to naked. And sometimes sucking my dick.

And friends.

Most of my friends either:

1. Don't go to clubs. For various reasons. Work. Status. Money. Time. Taste. Religion. Politics.

2. Work with me all day and need to go jack off somewhere else.

3. Migrated already. Or busy migrating. Bunch of birds.

My friends stuck by me during these bad economic times. They're not the type I go karaokeing with. Some do, but most don't.

I know I can count on them when the going gets rough. They're bad-weathered friends. And I'd rather have those than the other kind.

We share visions others might not. We support each other with our dedication to individual goals.

We are many. We are strong. We are motherfuckers.