The Ballerina(Neruda In The Morning)

"Goddamnit, Em, why do you keep acting like Fauste?"

Because it's fun as phuck! I guess reflecting on the past releases older stresses because I feel better during my day to day nowadays, putting it somewhere. Now bear with me. I'm The Man Without Fear, I don't ask permission to use music samples, and I damn sure didn't ask to use this:

The Ballerina

I have decency, she shall remain nameless.

I first laid eyes upon Ms.Perfection Junior year, 2007. SCPA. I was on my "I Don't Give A Fuck" shit. I skipped five bells a day, went to lunch, English, Government/Economics and went home. Where was I for five bells? I spent four sleeping behind some big ass cabinets on the first floor, chillin' with this dude who wore clown shoes and brought Vodka to school. I actually didn't drink it with him, I don't think I could hide being drunk at school. I would occasionally go to Anatomy, or I would go outside for extra lunch. Then I had my real lunch. During real lunch one day, I was being a social butterfly. The day was much too wonderful for me to hang with The Goth and the usual suspects. I got up and went to the next picnic table.

Now that I think of it, it was the luch prior to my real one, I wasn't supposed to be out there and that's when I saw her. Eye contact was a muthafucka. I admit, I was enchanted. You know the feeling, when you feel your entire body's weight lighter?

The funny shit is, from that day forth, I never quite saw her again. I made efforts to, but she never came back outside. I never got to speak to her......Damn. You live and you learn, right?

So, like the next school year, when I'm in St.Bernard, I get a Facebook message like, didn't you go to our school? And I'm all like yes I did, et cetera, et cetera. You know how Third World O.G's do it. Got the number in a matter of messages. For some weeks, she was always the last person I messaged. I thought things were smooth. She would text me out the blue, I'm in math like, what? I'd get messages while I was stocking cans at IGA. I couldn't juggle work AND a ballerina. So on the clock, you know what I chose. They paid me to text, I loved it.

She was my best good friend. I had a day off at school so I decided to arrange a meet up at me old school, say what's up to the kids and shit. She was all for it.

Now, children, this is where the story takes a turn into a direction that doesn't even have a name. I came down. We chit chatted about a whole bunch of nothing. She dipped. Our friendship went from strong to nada. This was my plan: I was gonna take her over to the bench in which I first saw her, tell her that, freestyle the shit I usually say to make the women understand why I am the man, and it was gonna be a wrap. The sun is my friend, but he wasn't out that day, he didn't bring the warm weather that brings me to my cool self. It was cold and I was tense and nervous and shit. I'm sure she could tell. Mmmmbrrrr!! The one that got away.

P.E.A.C.E