At the crossroads, me and Ol’ Scratch. Shit, here I sit, waiting for my future to meet me. Thing is I probably don’t even need the deal, but my insecurity has led me here, got me sellin’ my soul for fame and success. The gifts I’ve had, the talents I’ve been given, and the opportunities I’ve been exposed to, weren’t they enough to get me where I need to be? But my laziness has held me back and so here I am, lookin’ for the easy way out, lookin’ for the quick fix. So I wait here, at the corner of Powder Mill and Cherry Hill, waiting for Louis Cypher, AKA “B. L. Z. Bubba” AKA “Easy Money.” Some folks just call him “Ol’ Scratch” though, cause that’s what he went by round their way. I don’t think I can wait much longer, though. I am just gonna make due with what I already got, you know, dance with who done brung ya.
These are the things I write in class. Sure, I am supposed to be here studying Constitutional Law, and yeah, its actually fascinating, death penalty talk, McCleskey v Kemp, Furman v Georgia, and Gregg v Georgia, etc, etc, plus a fount of current statistics, but still, my mind wanders. I am still being an ass about certain people talking in this class, among others, but I need to cut that shit out…I know they aren’t gonna stop running their damn traps, but me being catty about it isn’t helping anything. I am just a hateful ol’ cuss, in training for angry, dirty old manhood. Gotta prepare for 30 some odd years of tellin’ them, “bastards” to “get the hell off my goddamn grass.”
Good times, seriously. I was a scout, you know, so I am always ready.
Oh yeah, false patriotism – will be back to it in a second – take a look at Serena for a while, I will be back. For trill…