Reality’s Wet Dream
Reality got bored of being the only one in existence so split in two, resulting in Thought and Language, who decided to fuck. Of course, when it comes to coming, it isn't any absolutistic, black-and-white matter, but a spectrum, and, leading to its electrifying climax, both Thought and Language contributed fairly and complementarily to each other's climbing up this orgasmic interstellar spectrum until finally the Omega Point had been reached and both Thought and Language felt so fucking good from fucking so fucking good that they both came at the absolute exact same event-location in spacetime and therefore both and neither came first.
Backhanded Compliment
So you think what I did was nice
But you could do it better?
Like you said I work hard
but you're a real go-getter?
Garbage and trash
take that nonsense back
if you're gonna hit me with the positive
then any kinda negative, you can have that
A fool by nature, blinded in eyes and heart
you think that by breaking the world down
you're the only one the coach can start?
and to failure you're bound
Hey man , slick rhyme, I like how it rolled off the tongue
too bad I got 1,000 verses that take that one in like a sponge.
Hey man, wow, sick sense of style
damn shame it doesn't pop-off with that smile.
Anything to keep you alpha, at least in speaking
but last time I checked it was my achievements you were redeeming
A shame you think your judgment comes in and makes verdict
Damn shame the jury's out, sentence fell on deaf ears, you shoulda heard it
You make me an incredulous being to anything positive
that it should always come laced with that sweet sting
If it's not this but that and laced with intensive negatives
then how could I possibly be in the winning?
Damn shame that I'm about to win at your game
Real gem of a backhanded compliment
mundane, though, they all sound the same
like you gotta couple pebbles, and mine are diamond encrusted
Finesse, you gettin' this?
make a play with pure skill
no need for muscle, all chill
sorry I knew it flew above your head : I erupted your interest
The heart is glass, when dropped it shatters.
The day took place in my youth, before my collegiate "education" began. I had a couple of good friends and was in a heavily committed relationship. We had been for...A year or better, but time and memory is happily cleansed of this. I was a full participant in my church's youth establishment and had recently managed to get my friend and cousin involved in this body of work. He never proclaimed a church and many of my community at school did not. I was elated that I could have the influence to get my friends to go, if even under the guise that we were going to do something outside of the church. He had come and partaken in a few things and it appeared as though the interest of my heart was attempting to push ministering or witness to him. Which further made me happy as this could be a building block of familiarity and family! Tremendous is hardly an apt adjective to adequately relay the bigness of the idea, yet it is one I'll stick with.
The night pressed on and it became hard to interrupt them to get them to discuss with me their communications and thoughts, but I figured "What of it? They'll talk to me when they're done. The clock struck done o'clock and it was time to leave and be on our paths back to our natural habitats, etc. I was having a particularly lazy day, and it doesn't take much to bore me, so I assume I was aching for anything to do. A phone rings and his name appears on the ID. He wants me to come see him and talk to him. About what? Heavens know, Hells call. I arrive at his house in a day in which the rain seems to be as frequent as breaths taken and returned. We spoke awkwardly and broken with minimal eye contact. And so I had to get to it, "Why did you want to talk to me?" His response was that he had an interest, in my interest. The world always stops when I'm in these moments and I always know, I knew well in advance but banked on the other person having a sense of morality, personality, loyalty. But the only thing I can take from those words is the -Y, as in why would I have ever believed that?
More awkward lines and a "You can punch me in the face I know it's wrong"..an offer I've refused a few times in this life and sometimes the -Y revives itself. I told him no, but that there was nothing he could do about it as we were together and happy, or so I thought. I left , but I didn't drive as if I was happy. I know a man rarely grows these seeds and nurtures them if there wasn't first someone planting them with ample fertilizer (or bullshit if you need technical English). Yet I drove...thinking "How is this happening, I would be so kind and his idea would be to stab me if even in the front?" So I continued my pace, trying to get wherever I was going...maybe church? I don't know. And as my mind continued to hit the same wall, or crashing if you will, my car became loose at the reigns, with wheel turned but body on a straight course, I don't know how I managed to slow at all. My car became connect with smaller trees to catch it from a further, more hilly fall into certain abyss. I missed the memory marker of a school mate that had met their end at this same stretch some time before.
I crashed on emotion long ago and nearly had the rest of what I am absorbed with it. My fists crash fine with bag and flesh, my body can toss others into their crash with Earth, but my romantic heart is truly hard to revive from the crashes it's been involved in, for what it's worth.
As the World...burns.
When the sun peaks beyond the crest of mountain tops to cast out shadows and envelop the world in brighter vision, when the untamed beasts begin their routines making movement from one area to another, and the plant light blooms and blossoms there will be a growing concern that births itself in the smallest and the largest of "civilized" minds : Will I be pursued to my death by flesh and blood of another?
The texts of any culture will find revelation that although we are the same species and not much varies us other than our thoughts and appearance (we all are composed of the same things, segregated unless removed surgically, destroyed by disease, or removed by force) and yet we always find a reason to fight one another , usually for resource not as just a means to fight...usually. Sometimes it would be written in epic proportion of battles lasting lifetimes, sometimes in a matter of seconds a complete city would be leveled, and sometimes (even in the present) it would take years to decades to millenniums to eventually extinct flora, fauna, and it could very well be of their own kind.
The humankind was and is despicably the opposite of anything kind. There were so many promises made that we would be giving, kind, forgiving, loyal, loving and instead we find reasons to exemplify ourselves and live in the idea that we are gods versus being just as we should be in humanity. We have brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, family and friends and those that are outside of that realm are typically seen as possible evils, intruders, and couldn't possibly want to help the world, especially ours. I fear that we are coming to the edge of cliff, not that we've ever been far from it but that soon bigger choices will need to be made, evolutions taken on in a matter of hours instead of the lifetime. I think we're coming to an eclipse.
I weep for those that have had to deal with the wars, battles, and skirmishes that have scarred them more than physically. I moan for those that have made it their reality to stay blind to these things happening and the reasoning for it. I chose to write this both to remember that there are truly beautiful things in life and exceptional people, and because I always know that there is an evil lingering here forever and it makes me petrified. Perhaps it won't be the nova I feel, perhaps it will be softer than I know. I hope your bright minds paint pictures and wield words to help others find truth and peace instead of them finding their lives dependent on flawed intelligence and distractions.
The outer appearance doesn't console the broken spirit
Everyone sees a girl beautifully independent
Inside a little girl is dying of wounded self
Aching for love and acceptance from anyone
Running fast to danger and more pain
Looking to people who only like her in vain
There's more to her than a pretty face
She just never found her home, never found her place
So she roams the streets and numbs the pain with drugs
Searching desperately for the fix; the only fix is love
She can't love herself she's done so much wrong
The hate she carries for herself never ceases at night or dawn