Midlife Crisis
Why do they want me to be someone else? Why do I want to be me, I’m terrible? Numbers don’t lie. I’m against the system and as dead as someone who doesn’t know there is a system. I fight the system by sleeping alone every night waiting for a mermaid. I don’t swim well. A chain-smoking mermaid. Your job is killing you, if it already hasn’t. Not having a job is killing me if it already hasn’t. Making six figures is as much being dead as making nothing. We have no one to vote for and, still argue about it. We have no God but, still look for answers in our disbelief and confusion. I love the little things and strive for the big picture. This big picture is a sixty-inch screen and, that’s what the little things are. I’m going to stay busy and, go for the National Championship; all alone waiting for the day to not be alone that will never happen. My crew, my posse, my family. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Sweat $9.00 an hour, people you hate and, overtime with them. The clothes make the man not, the mind. Allah is the one true God and Mohammad is his prophet. Let’s get a beer. Jah Rastafari! In God, we trust, Amen.
“The fruit is rusting on the vine” -Cracker
