goodbye blogspot.

so i decided for th ' new years that i need new things in my life. along with other new things comes a new blog. so good bye blogspot. catch me on wordpress.

www.dearkaye.wordpress.com

r.i.p. brittany murphy.

rolling with th ' homies...

ice cube said it... "today was a good day".

it's been a really long time since i can actually say that i had a great day th ' whole day. saturday was interesting to say th ' least and i got to spend it with some of my favorite people.

i woke up at early as fuck for a saturday and was LA bound to pick up my cousin to roll to th ' american apparel sale. we got there around ten when it started and there was already a bunch of people there. waiting in line and being patient isn't what me and my cousin are good at. we still waited in line for th ' great fucking deals and left with bags of goodies all for a very low price compared to shopping at th ' actual store.

then we made our way to long beach for th ' district 8 holiday event. it was dope. there was a dj, giveaways, food, and i got a free shirt that i love since i rep for my california all day. watched these niggas skate and jerked and pretty much chilled for a couple hours. it was a great day and i had fun. success!

random. part one.

i took a bunch of pictures of myself after i got ready for my day. i guess i was kind of feeling myself. i'm not sure what i'm going to do today but i'm going to find something. but right now i'm blogging to occupy my time. also i'm spending my time looking at all these tumblrs so i decide i was going to copy and paste some of th ' things i've find into this blog post. random? i know. i'm a random person.

alicia keys is really beautiful.

so this poem is from her book  

Tears Of Water

and it's called "prisoner of words unsaid".

amazinggggg.

I’m a prisoner of words unsaid,
Just lonely feelings,
Locked away in my head.

I trap myself further every time I stay……quite,
I shoot, start to speak,
But I stop and stay silent,
And now I’ve made my own hard bed,
Inside this prison,
Of words unsaid.

P.O.W,
That’s what I am,
Not a prisoner of war,
A prisoner of words.

Mostly I say what you wanna hear,
Could you take it,
If I came clear,
Or would you rather see me stoned,
On a drug of complacency and compromise.

M.I.A,
Guess that’s what I am,
Scraping this cold hard earth for a piece of myself,
For peace in myself.

It’d be easy if you just put me in jail,
If you lock me away,
I’d have someone to blame,
But these bars of steal are of my making,
They surround my mind and have me shaking,
My hands are cuffed behind my back,
I’m a prisoner of the worst kind in fact.

I’m a prisoner of compromise,
A prisoner of compassion,
A prisoner of kindness,
A prisoner of expectation,
A prisoner of my youth,
Runs too fast to be old,
I’ve forgotten what I was told,
Ain’t I sight to behold.

A prisoner of age dying to be young,
To my head is my hand with a gun,
And it’s cold and it’s hard,
Cause there’s nowhere to run,
Where you’ve caged yourself,
By holding your tongue.

I’m a prisoner of words unsaid,
Just lonely feelings,
Locked away in my head.

It’s like solitary confinement,
Every time I stay quite,
I shoot, start to speak but I stop,
And stay silent,
And now I’ve made my own hard bed,
Inside this prison of words unsaid.

"hanging out... down th ' street ... th ' same old thing ... that we did last week ..."

if i still smoked i would want to just sit a circle with some friends filiming each other talking just like they did in that 70's show.

this makes me want to go to disneyland even more. and it makes me hungry. grr.

i've always had a thing for mos def.

i guess not everybody likes drake.

classic. cory and topanga? awesome.

why women cry.

A little boy asked his mother, “Why are you crying?” “Because I’m a woman , ” she told him.

“I don’t understand , ” he said. His Mom just hugged him and said , “And you never will.”

Later the little boy asked his father , “Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?”

“All women cry for no reason , ” was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man , still wondering why women cry…

Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone , he asked , “God , why do women cry so easily?”

God said

“When I made the woman she had to be special.

I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort.

I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.

I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up , and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.

I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances , even when her child has hurt her very badly.

I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.

I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife , but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.

And finally , I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed.”

“You see my son , ” said God , “the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears , the figure that she carries , or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes , because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides.”