i'm sick of all the bullshit (the preclude)

precludes "you're sick of
the bullshit?" by romey.in.va

Guestblog from
Curlycurvynervy
author of: "summa this & summa that"

I'm sick of all the bullshit,
I'm tired of all the games,
I'm tired of pointing fingers,
I'm tired of calling names,
My head just keeps on spinning,
I cannot make it stop.
I cannot keep on going,
I think I may just drop.
I can't deceive myself
I need to heed the truth.
I want to believe in us,
but I'm afraid there is no proof.
No sign of your faith,
No way for me to know,
what's real or just a game...
I'm full of hate, of rage and jealousy..
Of envy and despair
I want to run, to scream...to free this part of me.
To inhale fresher air..
I need to exorcise, rid myself of these feelings
detoxify, cleanse, flush out all the demons.
I gave you only love,
You gave me only lemons
I tried to make it sweeter
to make it wonderful...
You poisoned every drop,
and killed most of my hope, my faith, my sincerity...
I only feel sadness, and empty all inside..
I have nothing left to give,
no more gas to fuel the ride.
This is my moment of silence,
my time to marinate,
My chance to sit and ponder,
Just what road I will take

natalie c. (part 2 of david e.)

be sure to check out journal entry
david e. (part 1)

dear ej,

Classes are done. Finals have been taken. Second semester is over. My dorm room is all packed up. I have my plane ticket home. Now comes the hard part. Somehow I have to find the nerve to face David. Gosh, there's so much he doesn't know.

He probably hates me. Not that I would blame him. I guess I probably seemed pretty selfish. I really didn't explain myself much at the time. All that b.s. about meeting new people, seeing what else is out there, experiencing different things. I can't believe I actually pushed that through my lips. I lied right to his face. But it was easier than telling him the truth. It was easier than telling him about the baby.

It was easier than telling him that I had hidden a pregnancy. A pregnancy that was conceived on our prom night. A night that was so perfect and so beautiful. But it was a night that produced something that I was not ready for. I know I was irresponsible for not using protection. But I couldn't have that baby. Not now. Not with all the pressure I have on me to succeed.

From the time I was a kid. Learning to read at age 3. My uncle always calling my parents from jail. Putting me on the phone so that he could hear me read something to him. A magazine, a TV Guide. Anything. My grandmother has scrapbooked my every report card since middle school. My father paid $800 to broadcast my high school graduation on local cable tv when he found out that I would be Valedictorian.

I had every relative calling me all the time asking which school I had decided on. Everybody was reminding me that I'd be the first of Papa Charles' great-grandchildren to make it. I was going to restart the tradition since none of his grandchildren and only one of his children went to college. I was the smart one. I was the good girl.

Maybe that's why I was irresponsible that night. Maybe that's why it felt so good. One moment of sweet rebellion. It's weird. You want to do something. But then people expect you to do something. It starts out as something for you. But then it becomes something for them. Soon, you don't want to do something as much as you did before. But if you don't do it you'll be a disappointment. You'll be a statistic. You'll be a lost cause. You'll be a wasted effort. You'll be a failure. I couldn't have that baby. Not now.

But after that procedure, the guilt set in. First about the baby. Then about not telling David. Then about not telling my family. Then I remembered all the pressure that was on me. I just wanted to get away. As far away as I could. Far away from the pressure. Far away from the guilt. But inevitably, there is no escape.

I have to begin to deal with this. I love him too much to let this continue. Now comes the hard part. How do I get him to talk to me?

-- natalie c.

you're sick of the bullshit? (the reply)

romey.in.va's reply to
"i'm sick of all the bullshit"
by Curlycurvynervy
author of:
"summa this and summa that"

why must it be me who gets blamed?
when you met me, you knew I was untamed
that's what attracted you after all
that's why you answered when I called
you chose the challenge, admit it baby
thought you'd be the one to drive me crazy
but instead it was you who lost control
so many nites I gave you pleasures untold
now you're telling me your sick of the bullshit?
because you're upset that I won't commit?
don't get me wrong, pain is not what I want to cause you
but I won't shed a tear if I've lost you
the remedy is to remain patiently
if you really want my love wait for me

-- romey.in.va

david e. (part 1)

dear ej,

Not long ago I thought my life was pretty much over. When Natalie left, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. It was all so sudden. She had decided to go away to college and not take our relationship with her. This was her chance to meet new people, experience different things, and see what else is out there. Sounds like sumthing a guy would typically say to a girl.

When she broke it off I was shocked and devistated. I used to do everything I could to make her happy. I'd take her shopping, and I kept her hair and nails done. I bought her cell phones and payed the bill. I even taught her how to drive so she could borrow the car my parents bought for me. We were damn near inseparable. Then she dropped that bomb on me. Afterward, I wouldn't go out. I wouldn't talk to my friends. I cried like a fucking baby for the first week. I felt like all I had was gone. I was empty inside. I was incomplete without her.

But after a while it hit me that life has to go on despite how much pain you're in. College wasn't in my plans. My grades were not good enough to get me a scholarship. I couldn't gather much grant money. And I decided not to borrow thousands in student loans that would put my family in more debt. I thought it best to stay home and continue to dj.

Time went on and I tried to forget about her by working my ass off doing parties, putting out mix tapes and networking. Soon I landed an internship at a radio station. Now I'm doing promotions. It's cool. I'm not rich and famous, but I get to pass out free t-shirts, cds and event tickets. I get to drive one of the stations hummer H2's. I get my voice heard on the radio a couple times a week. I even get groupies.

It's been about six months since Natalie went away. It still hurts when I think about her. She doesn't call. Probably because I cussed her out and told her not to. But even still, she should've known i said that out of anger. If she did call, though, I don't know what I'd say or do. But for now I'm ok. I'm doing well. And as long as she's not on my mind, I'm pretty close to being happy.

-- david e.