the realist.

i am not about perfection
perfection is overrated
I like simple things
like when i can take a taxi,
instead of subway
sigh, though i should be gracious…i used to walk for miles
so the subway will do just fine.
i'm comfortable about knowing that I will never be able to save 3000 dollars in my bank account-when I've got 300
I smile.
i like when
i can treat myself to ten dollar shampoo
its a gift to myself every month
i can’t ever see a difference
the chick who cuts my hair says she sees the change...
i also know she likes to lie,
sickly it makes me feel better
i feel safe in my home,
i live in a shitty part of town,
but at least I can say it’s mine
i'm okay with the fact I will never be America’s next top model
i'm also okay with the fact I have a bigger butt now than usual
clean sneakers make me feel strange…
clean teeth make me feel amazing...
i have no desire to sponsor a child or an animal shelter
but, i consistently give the bum in union square a buck every day.
his name is Jeremiah, he claims he’s 21 .he looks about 50.
i have a tendency to put others before myself.
yes, i'm aware that's not always good.
and no i don’t want to talk about it.
i have a coffee and cig every morning.
i tell people I really want to quit
but I don't,
not now at least.
i take pride in having vegan friends,
who wear fur coats…
but I can’t say I trust them completely.
however, they do make a great dinner companions.
i wish I could say that million dollars would make me happy
i know that a million problems to solve at once does.
i’ve read many books,
i’ve finished very little.
i think it’s because i’m scared of endings,
or so my shrink says.
some people ask me what I want to do with my life…
I like to give complex answers for the words, “no fucking clue”and you know,
I’m okay with that too...