When I left for work this morning my neighbor's Jack Russells were barking incessantly. At air.
When I got home just after lunch (yeah Guru I left work early, again) they were in the same position, barking incessantly. At air.
Why is it that Jack Russells bark incessantly? Little sh*ts!
I remember when D. and I stopped by to view my townhouse the same culprits were barking. I looked at them knowing I would not be feeling their asses in about six weeks.
Six days later I was about to put a cap in both their asses but they belong to two really nice post-apartheid white folks and I'm doing my part for rainbowism and reconciliation. For now!
Why is it that when it is really cold your little toe will find every sharp edge and your fingers will get caught in every door jam in the house?
Five minutes ago I decided to write a very different post but then my finger got caught in the door jam of my bedroom after I went there to put on another sweater over the three I am already wearing.
The pain traveled the length of my resolve to ignore it and then I felt a warm sensation in the palm of my left hand.
And so here I am typing with one and a half hands and my abused finger has a deep cut that is bleeding in tune to the old skool Heavy D playing in the background.
Why is it that the Overweight Luva from Mount Vernon stopped rhyming? "Lovable, huggable, snuggable, ..." and all dat!
Why is it that a girl/?\friend from your very distant teen past can always find the time in her busy married family life and work schedule to just just f*ck your day up nicely on the regular?
Why is it that some folks who are trapped by their inability to think and feel outside of their demons think that just because you know them you understand their sh*t?
Why is it that I even care enough to be hurt by accusations that belong to an imagination I never imagined and a past and present that has f*ck-all to do with me?
Why is it that I have not been to the gym in two weeks? Save it Erica! ;^)
Why is it that I always answer my emails faster than most folks who write me?
Why is it that there were only two racist email attacks in my box today? Buck up crackaz, I'm still promising all of you a gift wrapped cap in yo' ass by Xmas!
Why is it that when your heart is running around somewhere on the left coast you can't think straight and mix up what is left for what is right or for what is left to say and what is all right left unsaid?
Why is it that my heart skips several beats between her written words of late?
Why is it that I am missing your peaceful hands so much?
Why is it that when I dream you are never gone from me?
Why is it that I'm trying to come to terms so hard but I wish even harder that we could sit quietly in the garden and watch her prune roses?
Why is it that I did not see that forever would not be forever even when you warned me so?
Why is it that a finger can bleed so much?