Dead

I think I died out @
Eastern Michigan. After my 200 meter, I sat down. And for the first time in my life, I couldn't move. I tried to reach for my pants, my hoodie, nothing. Tried to get back up, go to the water fountain. Nothing. I thought I was gonna die. Couldn't breathe, and couldn't move. I suppose runnging like sh*t in front of your best friend and f*cking away your final chance @ a state meet birth would come into play too. A 7.52 in the 60 (wtf), good for 21st out of 71. And a 24.54 in the 200 (ewww), good for 16th out of 56. I did, however win my heat in the 60, so that will be going online. Yes, I am that prideful, I just won't post the time. 

"My 60 Meter Dash"

(i'm the one in the white tights...if you didnt know...i like track tights....haha)

I saw my "bestie" Deondra. Haven't heard her call me that in the longest. Felt kinda nice to hear it. I missed her. Yeah really. Too bad, I showed my ass, or else that woulda been a nice gesture. Damn, now I miss her more, her and her lip smacks. Haha.

I am looking over all these old races. Man, my form was dead awful. Like eww, but, I see that I am getting better I guess. Possibly my outdoor times will be better.....hopefully. I can't run this sh*t and hope to get a scholarship to state, or any school. They would look @ me like I was crack, and be like "N*gga, you serious? Wtf is wrong with you?" and I don't want that. Not at all.

I gotta go home & type this wack ass English paper, and I don't even know the topic, aw, wtf? I don't enjoy the end of the week, @ all. Too much track and school collision.

I started my 1st official day @ southlake highschool, as a real intern. Man....this girls are all over me. This is creepy as heck. I don't like this, @ all. Then the teacher, who is kinda bad for a teacher, forced me to read. "oh I think Fletcher's poem was great, do you wanna read it again, please?". "B*tch, wtf is wrong with you?" said my eyes. "why of course, it would be an honor" is what I said. It was a personification poem, and you had to guess who or what the person was talking about. I wrote 2. The 2nd was about my (primary) tattoo artist, Mr Ed. The 1st......well, lemme put it down there, and I'll see if you can guess:

"the secret service woke me up today/
At 14:00 hours, my girls have a play/
The men who built my court, just sent the bill to pay/
Who needs a basketball court anyways?/
Well I guess it would help make all the stress go away/
All the problems I need to relieve/
When I was elected, I still didn't believe/
Thanks to the republicans who grieve/
All the way down to the demos and her weave/
Back to the room with oval floor/
With more black glasses men to deplore/
And I'm supposed to stop war?/
All in a days work I guess, for Mr. 44/"

If you don't know who I am talking about......kill yourself.

Xavier comes on tonight. I can't wait. I'm about to start on this paper.

P&L
HOB UP

P.s: I died tonight. Literally.