You’re a kaleidoscope, full of abstract shapes and colours, and things that I have never seen before in my life. You’re always vibrant, full of the little things that never fail to spike my curiosity. You’re full of surprises. I’d like to know you like the back of my hand, but the problem lies in the fact that you’re nowhere close to being as dull. Your smile emits colours that are likely still nonexistent on the spectrum. But by far, you’re the most radiant.
I swear when you came in, I felt the ground shake. And how I felt, somehow it all changed. A pretty face, in a small frame. It’s like I’ve been looking for you, always. Something new, something I’m not used to. You said, “I can’t choose you.” I said, “I can’t lose you.” So I guess, it’s just business as usual. I don’t get what you’re afraid of, I love you with no make up. I guess we’re safe when there’s nothing there to break up. So we’re constantly making amends. Don’t want it to end, so I had to settle with friends. I don’t want to taste defeat. So we agreed to never make promises neither of us can keep. You say you came from far away, something like overseas. Saying how you came to stay, I guess we’ll have to see.
This place is really strange, is this what Alice called Wonderland? Or have I always been here, I’ve always kind of wondered, damn. All I feel is thunder and lightning, these people are frightening. Chaos and disorder, conflict and fighting. Massacre and destruction, masses of corruption. Hunger is frequent and greed is triumphant. Nations in divide with hatred in their eyes. History repeats itself so you can count on the demise. Capitalism and greed, fund wars but refuse to feed. Blood for oil is the only reasoning you need. The weak cannot survive, the rich will never die. Inject them with AIDS and they’ll still find a way to stay alive.
How do we strive for normalcy, justice, and goodness in a world where violence and negativity have become the norm? Societal values are slowly decaying. Civilization is a broken system. We act more on impulse than we do through considered rationale. We, collectively as a people and species, are returning to our primal ways. Arguably, we may have always been this primitive as beings, however today, in this day and age, these traits have become predominantly noticeable. Take a look around you, reflect, on yourself and others.
Is our ultimate fate of self-extinction inevitable?
I’m always writing. Even when I’m not writing, I’m writing. In my head, I mean. Writing down pages to an untold story. One that may, or may not, ever really be told. It’s not something I do because it’s a hobby or because I enjoy it. It’s more than that. It’s my life source. If you took away my hands, you would probably be killing me. But even then, I’ll still be writing. It’s the only thing that helps keep me alive. I’m a painter of sorts; the pen is my brush and the paper is my canvas. Words are my only weapon and shield, the very construct of the world I have submerged myself in. The only place where things seem to make sense, even the things that don’t. I write because it’s like breathing to me. At the end of the day, it’s all I know.
I’m always writing. I’ll always write.
You ever watch a movie and realize how many people are actually in it? Try counting. You will only perhaps be able to name the main and supporting characters. The focus of the movie doesn’t stretch beyond that of a few character roles anyway. But have you ever actually accounted for the other people in movies? The people without names and the faces and bodies in the backgrounds. In the streets and parks and restaurants and grocery stores; the list goes on. Well, I think it’s unfair. All those people have names and faces and lives and stories as well. So this is what I plan to do. I’m going to make a movie with a couple main characters, but the movie won’t even be about them. In fact, you won’t even know the main characters names and probably won’t see them for a second time even. The movie will focus briefly on background people and peer into a bit of their daily lives. It’ll be connecting like the couple right behind the opening shot of the main characters. Their story, we’ll follow them for a bit until they part ways. The camera will follow one of them until they meet cross someone else, and then the movie will be centered on that person and so on and so on. It’s going to win a lot of awards. There will be no background score because life is dramatic enough.
I’m a genius. I know.
Profound lyricism mixed with cynicism makes for strong criticism. Iron fist grip, it’s either hit or miss; the kind to make a thug bitch flinch before I even hit him. I’m getting jitters, figure it’s time for me to rid of this mass of trash. Zero-point-seven millimeters in your ritalin ass. Forget a stab, you never stand a ghost of a chance against Nav. I’m slow on the attack but when I do, I shatter a fake ass rapper like glass. I’ll rip you to shreds, give my grams a couple of needles to thread. Putting you kiddies to bed, in fact eternal slumber, which means you’re dead.
Meddling with rap veterans, who you claim to be better than, will have you pumped with lead. Hope you like your status, not for long that you’ll have it, it’s just that all that hype of being a rapper got to your head.
Fuck young money. Underage currency ass motherfuckers.
Noose around the neck, living cheque to cheque. He’s out to gain respect, but to the world he’s just a speck. Life’s test, threw him in the projects. Potential prospect stuck with hooligans and thugs living lawless, and “fresh-to-deaf.” He only bumped to the clef, compliments to the chef. Looking through the world through a prism while stuck inside a prison. So filled with determinism, you can’t say he isn’t. Never the chiseled individual out to make the female genitalia moist. He was the geeky little dude that got good grades in school, not all by choice. He was on the rise from the fall, he had no help at all. He wouldn’t rest until success, so he accustomed himself to the crawl.
His face is etched with permanent-marker-guilt. Hard to wash off. Even harder to hide, though he seldom finds the need to. It is a distinct look that is unmistakable, but often prematurely dismissed. An immaculately sinister smile reveals clear intent. Slaughter of innocence. Hurting himself more than he is others, but the thrill excites him. Inciting his schemes, fueling his motives. Giving birth to his fire. With eyes ablaze with passion, he’s a magician. But he dons clown shoes.
He laughs only because he cries.