Posts tagged ‘Deadbeat’

March 31, 2011

empty stomach, full brain.

I always struggle with how much of what is on my mind I should reveal on here.  This blog has served as my safe place on many lonely nights, but sometimes I post just to vent at the risk of sounding like I am whining.  I don’t want to be perceived that way.  A whiner.

Things are extremely hectic right now.  My brain is going constantly, every waking moment.  It’s particularly exhausting.  I know I’m a survivor, but I’m fucking tired.  I feel like the last one in the race carrying a bag of bricks  cinder blocks.  OVER IT!

I am on day 2 of this cleanse and my brain feels extra incapable of handling my rigorous obsessive compulsive thinking. 

My daughter is what keeps me going, her needs… the things she deserves.  I can’t fail.  I can’t stop.  I can’t throw my hands up and say FUCK IT!  I can’t.  She needs me.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I completely and totally losing my mind simply trying to keep it all together.

I am trying to maintain an acceptable level of sanity (what’s acceptable is debatable in NY).  Finances are one of those things though… they can really fuck with you mentally.  And they are.  Fucking with me.

I wonder if it would be bad to put some vodka in this Master Cleanse shit.

Advertisements
July 1, 2009

Ode to a Deadbeat

I don’t want to feel hate
But I feel it
I don’t want to want your money
But I need it
Withholding funds from your children
Trying to hurt me
But you are hurting them
Any dumb mutha fucka could see
Eight years of school
Because LAW was your decision
So tell me
Why are you a broke ass nigga
Working for Cablevision
You’re like a waste
A waste of damn skin
Your mere existence
Is truly a sin
You fucked
But now you don’t want to pay
Funny thing is
You still fucking me every which way
You wanna act like father of the year
Showing the kids off to your friends
But haven’t you heard
No ticky no laundry
This is where it ends
She’ll leave you in a few years
When she’s tired of the beatings and the lies
And you’ll be all alone
With no one to hear your big man cries
Then you’ll have two women
And four children
Coming at you with precision
Hopefully by then you’ll be
A bum ass manager
Working at Cablevision