stop the blood clot cryin'.

i let them know i'm ready to go back to work.

i'm a dj. i stopped working last year because i got pregnant. my pregnant ass couldn't be in a club all night. too smokey. too sinful. (not that i'm trying to say everyone that goes to clubs smoke and are sinful. naw. it's just a general feeling, aura. well it's been almost 7 months. my boyfriend tries his hardest to make me the stay at home mother and partner i want to be. but i'm scared of the way we make our money. he sells brugs. and now that we have a baby, we can't do anything for money anymore. there's a life that depends on us. if something happened to us, she would have to deal with the consequences of our actions for the rest of her life. a parent is not something you just are. you have to deserve to be a parent because it is not a walk in the park. everything i do will affect my daughter in some way or another.

and we can't be doing things like that.

i make decent money djing anyway. and i'm willing to work for my family. even if it means that he becomes the parent that spends more time in the home. he's wonderful at it anyway. he's an amazing dad. and my standards are high. there are a lot of people that will differ in opinion because of what he does. but i see what he does with it. he takes care of us with it. he tries his best to make the people around him - us - happy.

she doesn't think so, though. and while i sympathize with her, because she is a single mom doing what she feels is best for her daughter, i can't help but get irritated with her difference of opinion of what a good father is. but that's life, i guess. we're going to have to deal with her for the rest of our lives. and there's no changing the mind of an early 30s single mother in the city. she needs money, too (just so much more than what we need). and i respect her opinion because everyone should have one.

anyway. he tries, but we are always short. so maybe it's time to try another way. this wasn't what we were supposed to be doing. and since it was destined that we have our little girl, and it's wrong to raise her on brug money, it is destined that we don't make a living that way. the stakes are too high. so i will work and stop the blood clot cryin'.

i'm still finding what i'm destined to be doing. i have been for too long now. i need to figure out where i'm supposed to be and get there quick. it won't be long before my baby will need more baby food. more milk. more juice. more items to stimulate her growth and knowledge. and she's going to need more of my time.

if only there were 48 hrs in a day rather than 24. you could get that extra hour of sleep you feel you would almost kill for the moment you wake up and realize you just don't want to get up yet. you could get the time to finish that load of laundry before bed, but since you fell asleep while it was in the washer, the clothes are going to sit wet over night and possibly stink by the time you get back to the laundry room. i would spend more time with my baby. and i could afford to because i would have extra time to go look for money. i would have time to meditate. i would have time to reflect. i would have more time to smoke.

something tells me in my head, "pace yourself."

have you ever heard that voice? that voice that just tells you things. and if you don't focus on hearing it right away, it goes away, dismissed as a mere thought. but when you do hear it and pay enough attention to what it's saying, it makes so much sense that you begin to wonder if that was God giving you the answer to your problems? but you don't want to blasphemous because the voice sounds just like yours, yet calmer and wiser than your current state, so you dismiss the possibility that it was God's voice. maybe i'm the only one. but that's the voice that just told me to pace myself.

i love that voice. i don't know who/what it is, but it somehow sounds powerful and all-knowing. it calms me even when i'm borderline frantic. it always speaks sense. so simple. whenever i hear it, i try my best to give it all my attention, but more often than not, the voice is fleeting. it sometimes goes away the instant you try to keep it in your focus, and you are left with only to keep repeating what it said, wondering.

"pace yourself."

that was the voice of the woman i want to become.

i've read a book that made a reference to that voice. she said that she heard it when she was lying on her bathroom floor crying, in the middle of the night. she was unhappy with her life, and felt there was something - or a lot of things - missing. the voice told her to go back to bed. she said that it sounded like a calmer version of herself. i recently went back to that book because i recalled the exhilaration i felt when i saw that someone else in the world hears that voice like i do. i had to read that part again.

i like to believe that somehow, that voice belongs to the future me. she understands what i'm going through because she went through it. and she might be reflecting on her life in the future, remembering that exact moment you are going through in the present and she's cares. she got through it. and she's sitting fine. it's but a memory to her. as she sees you worrisome, tip-toeing the line between despair and resolve, she tells you to be still. to be calm. she tells you that she went through what you are going through and everything will turn out fine. you believe her because you know that it is you. you have the same deal: a family. a daughter. nephews that need you. your parents that want the best for you. a boyfriend that is in the race with you. you did everything in life the same and for the same reasons. you and her, both, did whatever it took to get by. in fact, you did the exact same thing. as she looks at you and sees you troubled, she finds her moment of clarity and wants to share it with you. you caused her moment of clarity, and she now causes yours. she has lived through your future. she's done what you are only about to do.

if all of that was true, then theoretically speaking, if i just buddied up to her for the rest of my life, i would be set. i would get there. everything will be okay because i'm listening to someone that knows that it'll be okay. and you completely trust their advice because you share the same principles. same morals.

am i a schizo? have a done smoke myself retarded?