Peace, man
I’m awake. My arms are moving, my legs are dancing and my heart is burning. All the signs of a critically thinking humanoid hell bend on a change of scenery, pace, people and most of all, the first step in connecting the dots.
I never really liked this activity in grade school and found it rather pointless didn’t you? Connect the dots, pfft.. Because just looking at the paper with all those dots floating there without the line in-between is difficult… right. I was an angry little Ari in grades 3-5 because every activity seemed like the teacher just made it up when I was at recess and expected me to happily color in the lines, well I didn’t:
That’s what my desk looked like. I think this in itself is a metaphor for my life as a whole “It may not look pretty, but someone’s bound to put it on the internet.” A credo I will hold fast to in order to survive. I know what I want/need and she’s smiling right now, I can hear it.
On my way to the city, finally. This little excursion to hippieville was well deserved but over done. In the end I’m glad I care about the earth so much that I choose to ignore it when it cries. I’m not saying I’m a hater or anything but all these hippies crying all the damn time have forced me to turn a deaf ear. Hippieinizim has claimed the mind of a dear friend. She will be missed.
I’m done with this place, I had vegannaise the other day on a sandwich….then I went back to the store and slapped the cashier when she asked why I asked to speak to the manager, then slapped her too. These damn hippies are all over the place, I hate to get derogatory but if I never see another dirty forest rat again it’ll be too soon.
What the fuck is the world coming to? I guarantee everyone in this picture smells lilke a dirty dick and can care less about it, yes even Terrell over there smiling like an idiot giving us a bad name. Black hippies love being the only black person at a bond fire because it means everyone asks him “hey man…can you get me some pot?” simply because he’s there with dreads, and weather or not he can get them weed is irrelevant because little hippie white girls are a sucker for us black guys, there I said it. Chances are if you’re middle American and white your mom fucked a black guy in the 70s and keeps his picture in her purse and rubs one out to it on her lunch break everyone and a while.
Every time one of those little forest rat betties came up to me asking to touch my hair because it was sooooooo different I asked to touch their nipples because “I’ve never touched a pink one before” and that worked more times than you’d think.
I’m done! I’m out! Give me the city with it’s litter and advertisements everywhere, give me real public transportation, give me lights everywhere, give me cops that sell you weed at a better rate than jimmy on the corner. As for you dirty forest rats not flushing because it saves 2 fucking gallons of water….give me a fucking break.
/Ari out
I never really liked this activity in grade school and found it rather pointless didn’t you? Connect the dots, pfft.. Because just looking at the paper with all those dots floating there without the line in-between is difficult… right. I was an angry little Ari in grades 3-5 because every activity seemed like the teacher just made it up when I was at recess and expected me to happily color in the lines, well I didn’t:
That’s what my desk looked like. I think this in itself is a metaphor for my life as a whole “It may not look pretty, but someone’s bound to put it on the internet.” A credo I will hold fast to in order to survive. I know what I want/need and she’s smiling right now, I can hear it.
On my way to the city, finally. This little excursion to hippieville was well deserved but over done. In the end I’m glad I care about the earth so much that I choose to ignore it when it cries. I’m not saying I’m a hater or anything but all these hippies crying all the damn time have forced me to turn a deaf ear. Hippieinizim has claimed the mind of a dear friend. She will be missed.
I’m done with this place, I had vegannaise the other day on a sandwich….then I went back to the store and slapped the cashier when she asked why I asked to speak to the manager, then slapped her too. These damn hippies are all over the place, I hate to get derogatory but if I never see another dirty forest rat again it’ll be too soon.
What the fuck is the world coming to? I guarantee everyone in this picture smells lilke a dirty dick and can care less about it, yes even Terrell over there smiling like an idiot giving us a bad name. Black hippies love being the only black person at a bond fire because it means everyone asks him “hey man…can you get me some pot?” simply because he’s there with dreads, and weather or not he can get them weed is irrelevant because little hippie white girls are a sucker for us black guys, there I said it. Chances are if you’re middle American and white your mom fucked a black guy in the 70s and keeps his picture in her purse and rubs one out to it on her lunch break everyone and a while.
Every time one of those little forest rat betties came up to me asking to touch my hair because it was sooooooo different I asked to touch their nipples because “I’ve never touched a pink one before” and that worked more times than you’d think.
I’m done! I’m out! Give me the city with it’s litter and advertisements everywhere, give me real public transportation, give me lights everywhere, give me cops that sell you weed at a better rate than jimmy on the corner. As for you dirty forest rats not flushing because it saves 2 fucking gallons of water….give me a fucking break.
/Ari out