“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.”—
“You bordo like Enrique, I’m toupee, I’m threepay
I’m looking like I’m a sweep stakes
But I treat ya girl like a cheap skate
Cause I need a crib, a big estate
I need a boat and that need a lake
I need some salmon, and that need a plate
That need a chef so I feed my safe
My crew is who I’d be widdy-de-wid-it
Rosé, I sippity-sip-it
I’m Quagmire, I fuck hoes
My cashflow, I giggity-git it
Boy, I’m cock-a-manian
The most zaniest, insaniant
Pulling up in Merced-iance
Rolling up like I’m Damian
I love girls that’s Arabian, Albanian, caucasian
I ride around gettin cranium cause my dick is hard as titanium
Oh boy you had your chance, and blew it (you blew it)
Stand aside and watch a real nigga do it”—Big Sean
This approach is exactly the type of service that still breeds hope through the innovation of very few. A little empathy goes a long way. If I was homeless, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to shack up with 200 other people who ooze the same sorrow that I do.
“I’m giving you a night call to tell you how I feel
I want to drive you through the night, down the hills
I’m gonna tell you something you don’t want to hear
I’m gonna show you where it’s dark, but have no fear”—Kavinksky. Nightcall
Quick Blog I found that's good for anyone who lives in NYC
i love/hate new york
August 2nd, 2006
Funny how you don’t appreciate things until they’re (almost) gone.
When I left Colorado I was so ready. I had spent my entire life there, was sick of seeing the same people every time I went anywhere, was sick of the lack of diversity and the lack of a big, ambitious young business climate.
These days I pine constantly for mountains, for a lifestyle that allows one time to think, fosters an appreciation for relationships more than possessions and reflection over constant distraction. I speak very fondly of the state I was itching to leave.
I’ve railed against New York for various reasons over the past two years, and all of those thoughts persist (it is impossible to be alone with your thoughts. It is impossible to not become desensitized to everything going on around you, impossible to not get in the habit of walking as briskly as possible, head down, ignoring the amazing architecture and the people along your way.)
But….there’s so much energy in this place. It is a city full of millions of young, talented people who want their lives to mean something. They have different ideas of what that means, different goals, different values. But it seems the common thread among them is an understanding that their lives are about more than having a crappy job and a crappy relationship. They seem hell-bent on making something out of their lives.
I think I will miss this place. I’ll miss the hundreds of corner delis, with their $2.00 egg sandwiches on rolls and their random selection of appliances and the $3.00 umbrellas instantly available whenever it rains. I will miss being able to step outside my door and have a few dozen fantastic dining options within a one-block radius. I will miss being able to pop into some random bar with live music…by some guy who’s won a dozen or so Grammy’s.
I’ll probably even miss the ridiculous outfits, the huge boots and the huge sunglasses, the tiny purses with the tiny yipping dogs. I’ll miss the trips to the airport at 5 in the morning, seeing hundreds of people still out from the previous evening on the way.
So much energy. So much passion. So much life.
I will miss you, New York. Sorry about all those things I said behind your back.
“Don’t give up now just a little mo persistence,
I am the day Ice Cube met Michael Jackson,
Keep ‘em away huh, something might happen,
This is the making of a masterpiece, so we broke out the chains and told the master peace.”—Ye
This dude Descartes writing, while beautiful and way beyond its time, is as confusing as the plot from lost. The mans method of doubt is almost impossible to write about due to the fact that I probably am not writting it because I should consider that I’m not here and am actually sleeping. Ergo, my reality is actually called into question because its not certain that its certain…
Am I rambling? It’s because my brain is fried and I dont know how to put a sentence together.
“I’m blowing on stinky that come in a jar
Playing with her kitty later come in the car
She a red bone but her cousin is dark
A little out of shape but you’ll fuck in the dark
Until she start complaining ‘bout her feet hurt
I’m trying fuck, she talking bout she wanna eat first
I’m like why did this bitch have to bring her
I’m tryna get her back to the nest so I can sting her
So I hit Big Sean on the ringer
I said I gotta chick for you that look like a singer
On a scale of 1-10 she’s a Fifteener
Man, you shoulda seen a nigga face when he seen her
He said the bitch wasn’t pretty enough to finger
On my team she will be a fifth stringer
I said I got the fine one and the beamer
I’m the point guard and I need wing take one for the team…”—