The Truth is Dead...

...murdered by the art of conversation

"She Needs My Love" by The Dream

...she said I'm like the air / and without me she'll die...

I landed in Miami on Thursday afternoon. Shatara and Stevara picked me up and commenced an adventure.

First, let me say that I love those girls. There isn't enough time to explain to you what they have done for me and how much I love them.

So when you have time, take an eternity and think about how much a person could love another and that is about half of what it truly is.

We partied that night, awaiting midnight so I could officially turn 22. I know. 22.

I have no idea what happened but I apparently was a funny obstinate patron of firewater and they took such good care of me.

I even reunited with some old friends for the night and chilled with them at the beach the following day (although the jocular tone of the reunion was hella shortlived and reminded me why we aren't really friends anymore).

For the actual day of my birthday, I was at the beach, lifted and it was hilarious. Patrice and I laughed at each other breathing. It gets no better than that. We were surrounded by the wonderful ladies of 804's prestigious Virginia Commonwealth University including Stevara, Shatara, Stephanie, Shemone, and Melanie.

I just loved my life for those couple of days. I spent time with the best friend of my childhood, Patrice Ward, which is representative of return to normalcy in my life I believe. I love Patrice. I love her in that ethereal, pure way that isn't actual possible of human beings, but I feel like I have it for her. She was there in the beginning of the turmoil of my mother. She was my earliest distraction and getaway when the fan was tossing sh*t around in my life.

This birthday, this 22nd year, is another new year celebration. This is the year of the lover.

Brilliant Nights

"Make Love" by Keri Hilson

...this is my song! it's too amazing to list just a few lines...

I am going to Miami tomorrow. I am quite excited about it too. I'll be misbehaving as I turn 22 on Friday, although I am telling people that I am turning 21. I think this is an appropriate time to start lying about my age. I'll be turning 21 next year as well.

My brother picked me up from my apartment so that he can drop me off at the airport in the morning. He is quite swollen. He used to be such a scrawny boy. Now he is a man. He is not fat, just built and muscular. It's something about the food at Virginia Tech. Every person I have known who goes there comes back as swollen as men do when they return from jail.

Anyway, I want to discuss the cost of the flight. Fee and taxes are a scam, I believe. The ticket should have only been $144, but peep the fees son:

Air Fare	144.00
Federal Segment Tax	7.20
Airport Passenger Facility Charge	9.00
September 11th Security Fee	5.00
Ticket Total	165.20

And, I have to spend $15 to check my bag, which I might not do because I am only going for 5 days and all the little pieces of clothing I am bringing could fit into my one, large tote.

And what is a September 11th fee? I suppose that this money must go to some agency that investigates terrorist activity or develops new technology to screen for weaponry or something. It is just an annoying fee. I think that we are underestimating terrorists, hatred, and anti-American ideology. They are not going to attack the US via a plane, probably ever again. They, whoever they are, will do something far more atrocious and far more sinister and far more unpredictable.

Not to be morbid or anything.

But, forget all that. Pray that I have a really, really, really good time in Miami, wish me happy birthday, and look up "A Date with a Crackhead". Propecia is my best friend!!

Started Pretending

"Can We Talk" by Tevin Campbell

...but just like a baby, I could not talk / and I tried to come closer but could not walk...

Today, this Monday, March 2nd, is a snowday. In four years of college, this is my first snowday. Our university almost never closes for anything. We have delays, but rarely does the administration give us the day off.

And that is annoying because we are a large commuter school. People are coming from all corners of the city to attend class and they are sometimes forced to travel in some dangerous conditions.

Today though, the university is closed. I idly sitting in the apartment, cold whiteness trying to creep into my window and irrational sleepiness conversing with my eyes and muscles. I definitely have work I could be doing but no motivation to do it. My English midterm is on Friday and I don't want to read The Odyssey or Agamemnon again. Why did I have to read them in high school to suffer again in college? Greek mythology is awesome but the literature is some mess.

But I have all day to get through the homeric babbling. I should have been an African studies major.