Res Ipsa Loquitur

now playing: "Dust" - Van Hunt
"It's just another day, another episode. I'm hiding under the world."

So, a friend reminded me that I never commented on the outcome between me and said roomie. (I'm sorry, it's gotta be that happy-feels-like-spring-crack I'm still on. Plain forgot.) Luckily all's square. We chatted and it's now back to the Peaceable Kingdom...the Niagara Convention...the Rainbow Coalition, well you get it. All's gravy. The agreement we reached is no surprise parties for her and Aquanetta -- with her multicolored rollers, store-sported houseshoes and parole violations -- stays at bay. Fair enough. LOL

In other news, I went to a branch of the city public library today to do some research for a project. First, let me say that it was Africa-hot up in that piece! I felt like I had just crossed the Mason-Dixon sans my freedom papers and da man was in steady pursuit...Um, so here's a thought. Do we not pay taxes in the big apple so we can get some A/C circulating? Geez Louise. Then, on top of that, a gentleman sitting next to me at the public computer desk was so aromatic that I had to vacate the premises with a haste rivaling Clarence Thomas spotting Angela Davis in the skreet. Lawd, lawd.

But my real point in writing is to ponder the crossroads at which I find myself currently. I was recently informed that I have the chance to go back to school (for journalism), at great cost, but still at great opportunity. At issue is the fact that I also have the inclination (it began as a whisper and now reaches L'il Jon-esque volume) to abandon the less traveled road of poetic lore altogether, and leave my down-for-the-people inclinations and notebooks to gather dust. This of course would free me for more nefarious pursuits (*cough* law school... next year) with the mission of obtaining the burgundy Land Rover and summer home on the Vineyard. Then, will come my ensuing disaffection to the Republican party. LOL

Sigh...

Why couldn't I have just been a rapper? If I could make beats like Kanye, I'd be ballin' right about now. If I had the flow of say, Jigga, I'd be chillin and could retire to write without regard for filthy lucre. But alas, blessed only with a predilection for gab, and sans the raw lyricism of the aforementioned, I'm left without the famed "Jesus piece", and instead with the "piece(s) of paper bearing my name." As I came to no conclusion/decision by the time the sun set, I looked to the election of the Pope as inspiration (shout out to Benedict XVI). This man, the leader of 1.1 billion Catholics, declared publicly that he was but a "humble servant". I thought to myself, wow, he's been in this for the love. Sure, he's big pimpin' now, but how many years was he toiling namelessly in pursuit of a seemingly elusive dream? In that instant, as the crimson curtains pulled back at the Vatican window where he addressed the faithful, I was reminded by old dude (and Mariah... cause "Make it Happen" plays now) to keep pushing. Someday, the bell will toll for me too -- Mahogany Ellus, the first. *smile*