So I went out hard on Tuesday, and had a little bit of an adventure on the train while making my way home. Luckily, I had a pen and paper with me and was thusly able to record my thoughts at the time. (NOTE: I'm going to try to remain faithful to the writing as I put it down — e.g. not lengthening "b/c" to "because")

I begin, while riding the D train at 3:52 in the a.m. on the morning of November 23:

Every mofucker on this train is asleep! Not even like I should be talking sh*t b/c evidently I caught a bad one, passed out & woke the fuck up in the BX! on the way back! Which is some BS / one min /

It continues at 3:55:

This shit runnin weird. It's goin on the A line all the way down. That shit's no good for a D, even on that's only goin to 2nd Ave. WHICH in theory I left from, the first time. For real. I ain't even know how I ended up on this joint goin this way a GD hour after I was on it initially. I'm out for now. Gotta catch that Q.

A break, continued at 5:07 on the Q:

This is straight rugged. I been on the train for at least 2 hrs. I caught and lost the GD hiccups. That's how long this ride been. I killed two packs of Combos waitin for the Q @ 42nd. That was the dumb shit though, cuz I waited a long fucking minute to get the fuck home. So goes this train ride, yo. That chick kinda looks like Avril. But I lost her. That's how it go. That's how it go right now. I can't even complain, you know? Sometimes some "let's get the hell out" ish. I don't think it's that bad to go w/ Liz, Vanessa and Mom. [my cousin, her friend; to see Pride and Prejudice —ed.] Even if it's that bad, it's still better than rollin into the flick w/ some dudes right? Cuz that would be that feelin ass shit. Even if it wasn't nething to worry about. It's all the same ol', you know? Just rollin with the same ish, from long minute to long minute. That's just how it go.

I can't believe we at Church already. that's the realness. Or just what a mofo expects @ 5 & change in the GD monin. Even if they got other game runnin. How come the doors don't open, yo? They skipping Beverley? That's some BS. I know mad cats (or at least I know that mad cats) who be gettin off there. [I know no one that lives there —ed.] That's kinda BS game to run @ fuckin 5 … 18 in the AM. Newkirk next, though. Ya boy's gotta roll.

So I've decided that I'm exceptionally good at not knowing what I'm doing. It must be something in the way I carry myself, but I often excel in situations I've never been in before. To the point where people don't believe me when I offer the amount of experience I have. Ah whatever, this is a bunch of crap I was about to erase. But these are the kinds of things I think and what came out when I sat down to write, so that's what you get.

I don't like editing, well, self-censuring, really. So I try not to do it too often when I'm writing. Probably moreso when I'm writing for myself, like how I generally stay away from the romance stuff on the blog. I've got pages of random crap that other people could probably read and enjoy, but knowing that certain people might see it just pushes it into limbo. Maybe one day it'll all make sense (word to Common), but I don't think that writing is for everyone else just yet. You'll have to settle for trying to figure out who and what events inspired various poems and slams.

As I sit here, completely not tired in the least though totally ready for bed, I contemplate what the antonym of the heart symbol would be. You know the one I'm describing — it's the one people use to symbolize love that has somehow morphed into "I heart this or that." There needs to be one, because I want to use it in the following context:

I [anti-heart symbol] insomnia.

Though it often results in good writing. Provided I'm inspired.

These are the thoughts that keep me from falling asleep.

Damn you, quick mind, damn you.

From The Quotations Page:

"In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite."

~Paul Dirac (1902 - 1984)

And that my friend, is the wonderful challenge of the writer.