love & basketball;

he writes;


So I was kickin' it with shorty on a cool breezy evening in the summer and she really got to me. Venting out all kinds of thoughts that were running around in her beautiful mind until she came clean and admitted how she really felt and how she wanted her life to be like. Under the starry sky, it seemed like the more she said, the more i thought. Thought about if she really meant every word that came out of those two lips that used to deliver a kiss that left me craving for more. But that wasn't the cold case, as a matter of fact I was thinking, 'Girl, what's your game like?'. But I wasn't thinking about any type of sport or any playground, run around games. Instead I was thinking about her love game and the way she made her moves in a relationship. But little did I know that I was on that same court with her, playing one on one. We defended each other, and held each other back because we were too blind to see that we were stubborn bumps on the road. Every possession was critical, but no bball was involved. See we puzzled at the outlook of our dilemma about who had whose heart, who gave who whose heart, and whose heart she should choose before there was too much damage to patch back up. So now the choice is just as critical. Ball in.


It all started with 'checking' the ball, trying to find out her different moves. It was like making a 'long distance' shot but we never counted by 2s or 3s cause we liked the number 1 so much that we decided to be it. We are 1, therefore, we are whole. So we counted by 1s, but if you count individuality, we appeared as 2 people, yet we said 3 words in a specific sequence that it was only right to feel as 1. And that's the only time we counted 2s and 3s. So day by day, she made me feel unstoppable with sweet line swishes that I could feel go straight through the heart and I melted with every backboard blast of laughter like I had to scream out 'bank' everytime a shot of her love went up becasue she made me feel like I won the lottery. But everywhere she went, I followed, letting her know that I was going to be beside her in everything she did. Still, I believed that she was the better defender because if the rock was my heart, she stole it easy. So I pushed myself, giving it all I've got and through my actions, she knew I was into it, she knew i was committed, she knew. But I didn't. I didn't know that her crazy crossover would leave me confused cause she convinced me that she was going one way...but went another. So her sudden action left me behind and now I find myself looking back, twisting my body in a 180 degree angle yet my head was spinnin 360s, feeling like a windmill. Making me look like a fool, she ran with the 'rock' as the feeling of failure rushed all over my body. Now it seems like every time a shot of her love went up, she would tend to 'fade away'. Now it seems like she would 'pump fake' and I found myself jumping to conclusions. Now it seems like I'm forgiving every foul action by being an upper hand, yet deep inside I'm hoping that she would foul out. Now it seems like shes 'travelling' from place to place, or guy to guy, and now my mind, which is full of heavy loaded thoughts, needs a time out. I'm tired; tears camouflaging with the sweat that runs down my muscle-tensed face. I'm tired. The sun which we both looked upon has now ran out of batteries and only our souls reflect the darkness. I'm tired. You were once the brightest star under that starry sky, and I'm dead serious (Sirius). I'm tired. So as I step off the court, I resist myself from looking back at who has the next game. I'm tired of saying double or nothing - double as in you and me, together...or nothing. But after your shot of lies in my face, the deafening swish couldn't have been any more distinguished as a notification that that was it. So now my choice is just as critical, and I choose to have nothing. Not all is fair in love & basketball. GAME.



By: hli.

VENTVENTVENT

this one goes out to all you fake ass people who claim to be my friend..
please understand that you alone are your own person.. i don't need a twin
stop pretending to be me, when in reality we'll never be the same person
i'm tried of fighting for apologies that shouldn't be asked for
your fake front does not have me fooled i know who you really are
quit hiding behind your wannabe presence that i call my company
it's now getting to the point that i'm irritated
i no longer need you to tell me how fucked up shit it
when you don't even know the half of it..
i don't have pity for people who think they have it real bad;
you talk so much shit for someone who is your bestfriend? real? and i can trust you?
you express yourself in a way that is foolish
i'm so fed up. i'm through with you.
so please try being real instead of acting like you are.
and for those who are THANK-YOU :)
this is my fucken vent..

be true.

you talk alot of shit for someone who claims to be " real "
try being your own person for once ok?