August 5, 2008
I should be writing now at 1.05 hours past midnight you know what that means you’re not getting enough sleep and not prepared enough for the day tomorrow never prepared enough and midnight surprise is playing in your ears and that's all you can hear, what good is that to you to hear only this, the things you fail to do and the failures you only do it seems though I know that that’s not totally or only true.
Wake Up Princess, Wake up princess…Stop fooling around stop wasting your time; you’re the one that doesn’t benefit from it. You’re the one that loses out. Always. The one that loses out
And that‘s not all, write the vision, eat the scroll, concentrate on the only one that matters, and stop slapping yourself in the face. If only you—I—could stop slapping you—myself—in the face, and I can’t even say it on white paper. I slapped myself in the face the other day and it wasn’t fun. No it wasn’t fun, but I seem to be unable to restrain. Unable to restrain these hands of mine that want to exact their vengeance on my body until it is a broken unbroken mass of what I am now, of what I should have “used to be”. But still am. Oh what I still am even this night still am, and still regretting that I am, but discipline is a hard commodity to come by, as you know. Discipline is hard, especially when you must exact it on yourself when neither you nor anyone else has before. But how else will I learn? I see no other way. If only I saw another way. But maybe that is the indiscipline in me speaking. There is no other way.