Daddy, listen. Mommy, please. There must be a better way to raise me.

Yo guise, remember two posts [a thousand now] ago when I linked y'all a bunch of songs? Well you know that song called Little People by The Procussions?? THE LYRICS, WHAT?? LOL I LOVE 'EM. Dey so cray, and what, lol, I'm sorry, I'm just astounded. I only ever listened to the song because of the beginning part but I googled the lyrics, and yikes.

Here is the vid yet again:



And now, the lyrics:

Envision the prison of agewhere the apparent dispositionis that of a parrot commissioned to live in a cagewho hits the parents when decisions are madeto not listen and they got their fist in opposition to fair playmust be in your submission to rageyou became a victim the same waythe system done gave wayinflicting the same painyour convicted and cant blamerecondition your brain till your convinced you can changeunderstandably wishin family tradition wont land you in a positionwhere you feelin the rainlonely without a home, cus now your childs grownwearing a milestone like its the only tie you owncrying when your alonehoping that God forgives you, wondering if your kids dono one should have to live throughthe violence that you been throughthe fight that's still within youits time to make things right and free the child that lives in you.
hear me...see me...do you even know i'm still breathingi listen to the sounds of a TV.the only thing that really wants to reach medaddy listen...mommy please...there must be a better way to raise mei'm yelling till my ears can't hear meinto a silence that kills me
there billy stands in twenty below gripping his coatthat froze two hours agodramatic i know, but cold ain't it, seven year olds waitingtakes another look at a picture that lost time paintedwe say put it away i can't look at itthe truth stings a little when you look at itwe're creating a mold of bad habitswhen the teacher got eleven year olds that blast at 'emand the world tunes in just thenlistening to every word daddy should have heard at age tenthen daddy wonders where it all beganhe could call you a father, but couldn't really ever call you a friendyou worked hard to provide a home for good livingand you figured, that's all that you really had to give 'emnow, if you don't know much know thisall work, no play, far cry, near miss
hear me...see me...do you even know i'm still breathingi listen to the sounds of a TV.the only thing that really wants to reach medaddy listen...mommy please...there must be a better way to raise mei'm yelling till my ears can't hear meinto a silence that kills me
it was once said that thegrass will weather and the flower will fall downand every man will pass when his number gets calledbut when a child takes his life that type of logic don't work out aa flower never chose to pluck its own pedals outand through out of the tears it gets so clearthat the son i held dear i lost somewherebetween my work passion and a child size caskethard to mask when these dreams keep flashing hiscold foot hanging from a stainless steel table anda white sheet stain with a mothers pain a griefevery day i wake to face this feeling of painso i milk the scapegoat to easy this feeling of blame thinkingwhat kind of man am i? what kind of mother were you?what kind of life did we subject our child to?wishing i would have listened i would have probably seen cluespraying for salvation that his soul could sure use
hear me...see me...do you even know i'm still breathingi listen to the sounds of a TV.the only thing that really wants to reach medaddy listen...mommy please...there must be a better way to raise mei'm yelling till my ears can't hear meinto a silence that kills me

Anyways, I went to the vivid lights festival and it had its ups and its downs. So we hardly saw any of the lights, but we danced a lot. It was fun. I love it when it's not the best situation but we make it fun for ourselves anyways. Yeah, cruise, dance, lights - but not the lights we came for. That is all.



So apparently this was never published. I wrote it on the 25th of May. Moving on.

So the other day I went to the city and watched the fog against the city lights. It was beautiful. The fog rode over the harbour and when you looked up at the building tops, you couldn't really see any. You could only see the bright, lit-up logos floating in mid-air. It was spectacular. Oh look, photos:

Fave photo but damn the blur!!

Look at the backgrounds! It looks so perfect - so perfect it looks like we were cgi'd in :\

Oh, and look, I made a stupid murder-mystery whilst I was procrastinating:

I wonder why every fingerprint in the world is unique - why are there no two fingertips that hold exactly the same traits, the same pattern. There’s probably a reason why, but I still think the notion of no two identical fingerprints is wacky. Perhaps there are two that are similar, or rather exactly the same. They’ve just never been discovered.

A Chinese man discovers that he has a fingertip twin. He tracks that man down. The fingerprint doppleganger is Native American, and dying. The Chinese man flies to America with his cheating wife and tricks his fingerprint twin into committing a crime and so the Native American’s fingerprints are recorded into the system. The Chinese man then proceeds to murder his wife and tells the police he saw a Native American man fleeing the scene. The police examine the murder weapon and search for the suspect until they discover that the Native American man was put into a hospital the night before. After all he was old as balls and you know, dying . The fingerprints then only point to one other suspect. Mr Chinese kicks the chair in the LAPD’s interrogation room. He has been caught. The police soon realise what his expensive, stupid plan was all along and they kick themselves for not seeing it sooner. But you can’t really blame them because well, what sane detective would see that. Like, for real. This was a murder mystery written by William Tran – titled ‘Fingy Twinsies: Partners in Crime’.

Also, I made a poem today.

Can I get a hell yeah?

Hell no! Instead, you can get a hell I-love-you-baby-doll.

And that's all I ever wanted.

Anyways, It is now the 2 in the morning of the 15th of June, 2013. Tai's funeral is in about seven hours. And I'd just like to take this time now to say that Tai, I hope you rest in peace. And to those close to him, his family and his friends - stay strong. I'm so sorry for your loss and although I never really spoke a word to Tai, I do so very much wish he's still smiling at you from a beautiful place - wherever it may be. RIP Tai Clint Nicholas Nguyen.

That is all. Au revoir.