spoke.

there is a certain moment, when words burst into blurred verses, you work to own it.

realized that the conception of love has burned to moist bits.

understood the hypocrisy of this world being lonesome.

and you’ve thrown up so many peace signs now you’ve gone nuts.

everything you could have hoped for, is abolished with swiss army watches,

bliss is hardly honest, i’ve committed my heart to intimate prick biologists.

sniff when you watching this, i can’t even look at you.

i’ve already seen God throw his book at you, but deep down i know i should have you.

be with you, be near you, us swimming on a coastline.

but my anti-social exposed rhymes threw me overboard in no time.

when the day comes, i will be living under the boats sign.

i’ll be forever content knowing that when i woke up i spoke mine.

BRAVERY=my anti-love.

afraid.

this ain’t no time to be afraid no more, it’s time for bravery.

good will hunting syndrome

idea.

who knows if she likes me, she might only like the idea of me.

so we going head out to bar, yessir, i have my i.d. up on me.

bouncers trying to cockblock, leaving pine trees upon me.

this isn’t life, i usually only went for girls that didn’t want me.

it’s possible that she only might be attracted to my environment.

white kid from the other side of town, thats raps and is fly with it.

go ahead take your little fame, you bit off his whole style.

in your habitat you might have no ceilings, but i have no tiles.

the finals are haunting, there is no interest in perception.

every innocent gesture can turn into a figment of conception.

in class i sit in the back and never listen to the lecture.

because my flow is cerebral, serve them then, dish out questions.

ever since i was a pigment in a disastrous territory.

i blasted my nemesis’ glory, which meant myself was bashed in a better story.

never does life forever bore me, reflexes i test with coffee.

the concept of regret is a selfish torpedo aimed at breasts in arm reach.

when i was an infant circulating my mothers womb.

i strangled my brothers lungs and brought pain to upcoming tomb.

it’s very simple to give up, and toss away potential.

i cross the pain essential, like i cross my a’s with a pencil.

never stay forgetful, i remember every particular occurrence.

so much shame i’ve brought to my family tree that its bark is an ember burning.

theviewfromthelowdive:

I still cringe when i hear myself perform.  Maybe one day i won’t.

Heres the Grand Slam.  Props to the video makers who are anonymous to me

-

I am included in some minor parts of this video. Props to my dude Chris Milea for taking it all. It was a great event and an important moment in my life. I realized I am an emcee and will always be one. M.C. master of ceremonies, huh, doesn’t sound too bad, I think I can live with it. The time will come when success will flourish, until then, all I got to shed is this “alternative” energy, E=mc² …. makes sense after all.

through the wire.

through the wire, i have dominated my mentality.

friends battle me, so i fight wars,  but often my pen is the casualty.

i possess violence, stress silences amongst depressed tyrants.

i don’t mess with conspirators, i take steps, only to invent miles.

sometimes i act retarded to bargain with professors.

and often, I talk about topics that are nostalgic during lectures.

but it’s alright, i understand i am human.

my boys are a few good men, that make truces to future women.

our greatest.

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

argh.

i have watched 500 days of summer too many times trying to find a sign when all i needed to do was close my eyes, see it all, dream it, enjoy it, deploy it, THEN CONJOIN IT.

i’m stressed, but i do not want to walk for 15 minutes to buy a pack of cigarettes, i don’t want toooooooooooooo ….

FUCK

library session -> library confession.

it’s alright, alright it’s alright, alright. … .. .. .

no ONES GOT IT ALLL!!!!!!

——

it’s time to move on.

button up your shirt, put your shoes on, you’re attached, your heart is glued on to her remains laid on her futon. he’s there with her now, you gone. all because you took too long, to rebuke a move, on her…

you sit in this computer lab, thinking if you’re futures grand. grandiose, command a toast to the last of hope, look at your life, you did that.

i put my hood on, cover my face with a rangers feel.

they used to call me Rodney cause they knew i lived in a danger field.

go ahead, make a deal. dance with the devil on naked heels. murderous hands, i was made to kill, so much so, i hate my skin, made to win, i don’t want to hate again, i just want to make amends.

turn her into literature, wither her, leave her like you widowed her, i beg to differ, negative sir, beg for tenacious handkerchiefs, I’ve waited since, its been logical, been modest to obviously accommodate you into thinking it wasn’t impossible. inevitable, impregnate the mess of you, i let it do, now it is time to let you go, realized all i got in this world is these poems and my testicles. testicles, testicles. think of them when i message you. testicles, testicles, i will always mention you. drunk text, what’s next? being upset from a set up in. decreased my heart size like a breast reduction, never say i’m smart, i’ve had better days to start. didn’t sleep with you cause i rather worked to penetrate your heart.