Cartel Rapping

After hours, odd things may happen at the local coffe spot.

Including myself trying to rap. My original lyrics are forgotten, but I recorded what I could remember below.

I went to Cartel where they had a little party/
I took a moment to remember Marty./
They asked for a rapper but I ain't that dapper/
Anyway I grabbed the mic like I was riding my bike/
"I sure as hell ain't Bobby G/
I'm Gerald B, the EMT./
Here I am, Tempe, Arizona,/
I'm gonna save you, when your in a coma./
Heart attack, call 9-1-1,/
they dispatch me to have some fun./
Hook up that old EKG/
'Oh my god, look what I see!'/
Pack you up for the helicopter,/
We're gonna getcha to the doctor."/
That was my rhyme,/
but I ran out of time./
Remember my name,/
'cause it's part of the game./
Please take a moment now to observe,/
the people who are a-willing to serve,/
keeping you alive whether you deserve/
saving your ass when nobody swerves./
Paramedics come; they don't take you home,/
they start the I-O into your bone./
Poor boy stopped breathin',/
His heart ain't beatin'/
A-L-S, come compress his chest/
So he can look his best/
On his wedding day,/
so he can pray,/
"Thank you God for EMS."/
But now of course, I must digress/
'Cause its the fire fighter who opens your car,/
to save your skin from being charred,/
and the nurses at the ER,/
that respond when they hear you crashed your car/
who kept you from being another denizen/
stuck in the world of sin./
Oops, you totaled your Mercedes,/
We'll keep you outa Hades./
Please give us thanks,/
'cause we ain't makin' bank/
This shit is dank and I'll be frank,/
the life is hard; it sure ain't easy/
no one says it'll be breezy/
Don't get queazy with all the bleedin',/
Just a little patch and that's all you're needin'./
Next time you have trouble,/
remember to thank the gentlemen,/
who pulled you outa rubble,/
just to save your precious skin./
I'm Gerald B, it's been a pleasure,/
thanks for listening through my last measure.

Thanks and Memories

As the title suggests, I want to thank Juli for giving me so much furniture. I'm now quite a bit closer to a home as opposed to a hovel; the bookshelf, bed, desk and chairs rock, and they make the place feel much less empty. Scratch loves the fact that he can jump over everything. I'll probably be getting even more from her soon. I'd still like to get a kitchen/dining table, but that's lower priority now that we've got a start on horizontal surfaces.

Onto the memories: I was going through my old molskine notebooks (they aren't that old, I got my first one a year ago) and I found myself surprised at what I've done, and what's happened out in the world since I started writing. I'd set goals at one point, several of which I met, but also several that seem further than before. Despite that those have been forgotten for nearly a year, I'm still disappointed in myself. Last year, I was even berating those who don't live what they want to live, those who have failed themselves. I wrote with vigor, anger, passion and even love, but now those passages seem securely hidden, trapped in their pages, bound by leather, waiting for me to follow with action.

I had thoughts on school, but I only met a few of my goals there.  Despite the turn of events, I know I probably could've done better.

My largest group of thoughts was on my wolf project, which never even left the ground.

After all that, and looking at why I met, or didn't meet my goals, I realized that I'm somewhat aimless, attacking ideas haphazardly, without thought on what I was doing or even why I was doing it. I wrote statement below after finishing the first book and reflecting on what I said.

–From now on, I will do what I need to get done for myself and for others, with integrity and justice; I will follow with what I want to do to further myself and my understanding of this pale blue dot; and I will do my best to hold myself to my conscience, my means and my expectations.

It's vague, doesn't say anything about time, and this statement has nothing to tell about how I can get things done, but I feel that this represents the best realization of a personal mission statement. I took some time to adequately say what I meant.



P.S. I just want to mention that I've gone through a couple pens now. The one thing that would mean quite a bit to me these days is a good fountain pen. I don't really want something too expensive, and there are a number of acclaimed pens in a rather moderate price range.