epiphany.

i cry tears of joy upon being struck with inspiration.  i cry because its as if all the answers, at least for that moment have been answered, and the guiding light to my future has been brightened once again.

such is how i feel upon discovery or further research of all that is art, film, and black history. 

currently sitting in the left wing on the 2nd floor of my favorite library covered in a sea of books that my hands couldn;t stop reaching for.  

these are the nights i live for. where i can be in my own creative bubble without the stress of the misguided people, the frowns, the criticism, and the inability to be my self completely. 

and so i over indulge in the books, the music, the information, the films, the colors, and the freedom , in hopes that I can stay in my bubble until its time to float away from this judgmental place known to many as Gainesville.

today.

todayyy was a woderful dayyy :) im getting my shit together :) i think im going to get a new tatt.

the best way to get what you want is to make shit happen :)

flying free :)

stress.

every morning i wake up . scream "fuck". stare at the ceiling. grab the phone. check the texts. grab the laptop. send emails. contemplate starting the day.

as of now im stuck on the last step.

so much i wanna do, so much I have to do.
sigh.

hopefully today is magical.

im back.

im baaaack. no explanations. no long stories. but im back.

humble.

today a perfect stranger after talking to me for about 10- 15 minutes told me i was conceited and needed to humble myself.

i dont know if im insulted, ashamed, embarrassed, or glad that i have been enlightened.

but i do know im going to work on that.

because I dont feel as though i'm conceited at all.

but sometimes when im nervous, i have to get in baller/imbetterthanyoumode in order to cope.

sigh.