Man, fuck this shit I need to write something.

I've been a bit to hard on myself when it comes to writing lately, everything I pen has to be important and I forgot that this isn't a book, this is my blog, my personal journal of sorts, if I have shit in my head that needs to be mapped this is where I map it.

Besides, the music is inspiring me.

So what can I say that hasn't already be said?

I'm leaving in 3 days, count it. 1. 2. 3.

I have a new hair style, I am no longer bored with myself, I've been smoking the past couple of days, so that has also been lovely. I wake up in the morning, vibe with the world, waking up is actually a lie because lord knows I don't sleep when the sun comes down.

I'm on Ghana time once again.

I pressured myself again, to write about something more serious, but then I remembered that there's no rush, God willing I'll be in Ghana with more than enough weed and more than enough time to vibe and exist, and document this existence.

I'm just counting the days, biding my time, preparing for the immediate greatness. A little bummed about the lack of romance in my life, I need someone to vibe with, nibbling ears and soft kisses and lots of laughter.

It's not even about the sex, it's just that transference of energy. I'm so secure in my romantic position in life that I don't need labels, or restraints to let me fully enjoy myself. I can live in that moment with whomever I please. But obviously I have to connect with my partner.

There has to be something real within him, a mutual understanding of just how far he can swim inside of me and just how long he can stay.

Love entertains.

Shallow living, allergic to, I am.