sleeping in

i am in love with nikki minaj. that phrase has been in my head for the past 30 minutes...well since i decided to get up and start ding stuff. but i haven't really done anything. i learned last night a startling truth about myself. i am a moderate. we were in class talking about undocumented aliens and their role in our Higher Education institution. this is what i believe:undocumented people should not be able to come into the United States of America. they should not be able to attend institutions of Higher Education. they should not be able to work or receive any benefits that Americans enjoy. i know, i know undocumented people are here for a better opportunity. i understand this. i think it bothers me because it is currently against the law. additionally, i think we have enough Americans searching for their own American Dream. I think, for instance that Mexican undocumented workers should stay in their country and do one of two things. they should have to go through the proper channels(regardless of difficulty) to attain their documents for citizenship or stay in their home country. I know it might be difficult and challenging but we have hyphenated Americans that have fought for a very long time, almost 500 years now to be free and for their slice of the pie. How dare undocumented workers be able to circumvent the system? that's just what i believe. now, when being undocumented is not against the law, i could see myself supporting them and getting their opportunity. but, until then just as i fight the good fight against underage drinking (because it's the law), i will not agree that undocumented aliens should be here in America. period.

day 1

Whether or not I am there, tomorrow will come. Before bed, I have these thoughts of what tomorrow might look like. Will she be dressed in a gown made of gold. Will she be high class? Will she stop for a moment and breathe. Just as I want to. I feel like she won’t. She will keep running. Running right past everyone.  Going faster and faster. Moving like the brush of wind that passes my face as I sit here under the fan that calms my soul. I wonder what tomorrow will wear. Will she wear a mini skirt and let everyone see her goodies. She should give a sneak preview to a few people. Like babies. But, I think she already does. Babies get to see what we, adults, don’t want to see. They get to see the inner parts of us. We don’t want to see those inner parts because they are not always so clean. Those inner parts are dirty and damaged and hurt. They are like the inside of an old beat up car. Rusted and screwed up. But it’s something classic about those inner parts. They make up the entire car. I wonder what tomorrow will say. Will she quietly pass on by or will she make a huge thump in the presence of all that will listen. Did today piss her off. Probably. Because tomorrow might not be ready to perform and today went by just as quickly. But yesterday, see he is good. He’s done this before. He’s done what tomorrow is about to do. he’s given the world something to hold on to. Memories. Yesterday allowed me to become who I am today and hope for what I am tomorrow. Yesterday gave me my breath of fresh air when it seemed like all was closing in on me and the walls were being painted with my thoughts of rage and confusion and apparent misguidedness. See, yesterday is concerned about me. He rubs the back of my ear and calms me. He makes me remember that this don’t last always and that I have been here. I have seen the way this story ends and its ok. It’ll end whether or not I am there. It will come, whether or not I am there.

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