what i do when i'm supposed to do homework.

(So this is something i been wrote and never posted, it's in the making, and going through changes...let me know what you think.)
Once Upon a Time....
Once upon a time in a hood near you lived little Precious Love Jones. Precious was mischievous and fly, cute and sassy, and her mouth got her into a lot of trouble. One night, Precious's mommy, Queen B beat Precious like she stole something.
And now Precious sported three welts on her body. Her mother was teaching Precious a lesson, she would learn to never trust men, even if it killed her.
At least that's what her mother thought she was doing when she was beating her.

Crack! One D&G belt against the thighs. This was for Precious's grandfather the Orin gal King,
who was killed by European invaders long ago, a now wasn't able to change a damn thing.
Crack! One across her back. That was Precious's father, a king who ran away when his country was in famine, because he didn't understand Mother Earth and her temperament. Cause his own father was never there to teach him how to teach him how to be a real man and work his own land.

And know the king is in far far away land spreading seed on what was once fertile ground. Dropping it in the soil and refusing to nurture it. Claiming the land .for a one night stand. Letting the world's breath blow over his scattered seeds. Wondering why it will be a weak harvest this season.

The last welt was for Precious's future
What ever Prince who decides to try and woo her
Who ever is still alive after the war of puberty
Whoever isn't captured before he can reach her gates
Whoever can swim across the moat of bullshit that the world made
That young Prince will have to carry Precious's Louie V baggage
One scar across her thighs that make it hard to sit
but kills her to stand and walk away, thus she'll continue to crawl.
Second scar on her back that gives her a slight hunch.
Curving her shoulders to the ground and consequently her neck
never letting her head rise to high
that scar keeps her in check.
And the last scar, well that's for you my young Prince
Right across her heart, the place her mother last hit. It's to make her
stronger.
See it's keloided over now through the years of
bitches, money, hoes, cars, clothes
I hate you and love you at the very same time
Mac Daddy bullshit, line after line
Seeing what you can never be,
knowing what you are
being told what's "real"
and how love is just too damn hard
Hip-hop lyrics, and Playboy Magazines
Being virtually molested by the media from age 6 to 18

"See young Prince what you just got yourself into when you asked to be my man
is a whole bunch of bullshit, that you'll probably never understand
I know i didn't ask to be born into the throne, just like you didn't ask
for my life story
But what I'm tryna tell you is.
Bring it on.
Whatever the fuck you got.
Cause see i know love is a fairytale
that's been altered through the course of time
And i can smell bullshit like lemons and limes
I can't offer you love
I don't know nothing about that
But I can give you my loyalty
as long as it's me you protect.
I'll make sure you never go to bed alone
Stay full and pleased
Wear pink Vicky thongs and get on my knees
Cause the night I became a woman
I got branded
And these three welts stand for more than that,
my past, future and present.
Those welts which came out of my
mothers love, represent my life and loyalty;
The symbol of my ghetto royalty.

dope-nessss!!!

People who are weird, and know they’re weird, have two choices—they can either revel in self-consciousness, struggling to fit into a norm that was never carved for them, or embrace, bask, testify in the name of their quirkiness.
-adriel luis of iLL-Literacy

"get wit it....."

March 2nd. around 1am-ish

Soo...
I decided I'm going to write. Fuck everything else. The only thing I've ever been partially constant with is writing. I feel like that would truly make me happy. That's also something i could share. I only like to sing for the lord and myself, and acting is....idk. Just a basic skill i have. I wanna write about my experiences but how do i get readers> Do i even want people to read? How far am i willing to go? What about poetry? Spoken word?

What next for me?

If i get into VCU or Drexel's cinema program then it's on. That's a promise to myself that'll i'll be the next Toni Morrison, Spike Lee and Suzanne De Passe, all in one. I feel like my heart is too big and i am too irregular to just
settle.

I'm not striving for fame.
I'm not striving for money, (but it's up there in my list of priorities)

I just wanna be happy.

And this is just a reminder to myself;
i'm officially taking up the pen as my sword.

GOodNiTe.
P.S. -this was inspired by hip-hop. surprisingly.
P.S.S- and the surge of energy i get after twelve.