I had a dream. In ma dream, I wuz a child again and for some unknown reasons, ma brover had mysteriously disappeared. Somehow, I needed to be assured that I’m an only child and so I kept askin’ maver over and over again if this wuz true, and each time her answer wuz yes. I wuz happy in tha dream because tha grown-ups have given me colored marker pens of all shades, and I also have a complete set of Crayola crayons. And then I wuz chasin’ other kids on tha grass and I realized that I wuz a poor, dirty street kid. This did not seem to surprise me, as if I’ve always been a street kid and I don’t care a bit juz as long as I have ma complete set of crayons and colored pens at home. Sometimes I wish I were a child again.
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Sometimes, I have the habit of complaining about ma ex. I blame him for things that in reality had nuthin to do wit him and this is bad because friends begin to think I’m not over him yet. That he’s my “Mr. Big”. Someone I will forever love for treatin me like shit. Tha truth is I got over him long ago. There were others after him but I like blaming him. I like letting others think it’s him coz I can handle hearing how bad he is. Also, he wuz a fixture. Something certain in ma life. Certain becoz he wuz mine and so I had some rights to him as opposed to tha other uncertainties after him who doesn’t have ma rights to them and their rights to me. Like I don’t have tha right to criticize them or defend them to those who’ll criticize them. I mean I can but not as much as I’d want to without interfering personally which would otherwise be ok if they were mine. That’s why I’m pretty much repressed or I complain about ma ex.