ok. so i'm pretty sure gangstas don't eat delicious vegan cinnamon rolls for breakfast or go for solitary walks in the rain, practicing russian on their iphones. but some might. and to them i say, спасибо. пожалуйста не убивайте меня. which of course means, thank you. please don't kill me. so far, twenty ten has been awesome. in addition to the kick ass morning i had, in the scant four days of this new year, i've managed to do the following: create a realistic budget for my finances, get paid and pay off some debt, sign up for a swimming pass at the community pool, write some new riffs on the piano, roll multiple yatzhees and speed read tolstoy's war and peace. ok. so the last one was a lie. but i did roll multiple yatzhees, so suck it. and i do feel pretty damn productive.
but mostly, i feel free. it occurred to me the other day while riding the bus (and attempting to ignore the vagrant that was so blatantly JUST STARING at me WHILE DRINKING RUM OPENLY), that for the first time since 2006, i don't have feelings for anyone. my heart is not aching. it does not feel crushed, it does not feel alone. it feels quite simply, fucking fantastic. seriously. i don't owe anyone a damn thing, and no one has a piece of me. this, combined with the liberties of my favorite city, makes me feel downright untouchable. i'm right back to that new year's picture of aught six, where i am alone, wearing a black shirt and blue tie, drunk and blurry, lighting a cigarette with a purple flame. i'm back to being me, back to being completely independent. and that, my friends, is what makes me gangsta.
here's hoping this year brings you that feeling too. and happy birthday, jinxy! momma loves you! here's your found item of the day:
people after my own heart.
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