Rises

Feels like the past. Broken heart, Mr. Jones and solitary confinement. Bye, baby. I've never made sense of anything I write. Maybe that's the way I like it. The sky is falling...and....I think you're content with that. It's not your fault. It's mine. What will be will be and so it goes. I can no longer explain. I felt something I haven't felt in God knows how long. Heh. Is it strategy? I don't know. Trust issues have scarred me, so I tend to suspect everyone. Appreciate that. Tainted. I see what you mean. I love her. And now...my fate dangles above my head. I can't do this anymore. Something died. But I'm doing it for you. Maybe I'm doing it for H.E.R. I don't know. I'm just...here. Darkness. Remember these sentences? Remember what black and white felt like? None greater. I should have wrote this sooner. I've become a void. The Dark Knight. How fitting.

How's What?

Love. This is love. You helped me to discover me. I'm not going to edit this. This may not make sense. Great love doesn't need to. Somewhere in all this commotion, I forgot how to create. Maybe I forgot the way your elbows touch your thighs when you curl onto my lap. Maybe I forgot the way you wear those pearls. Or the way your shoulder blade hugs my thumb while I hold you. You need me. It's not vain. I am you. Most lack the ability to grasp that concept. They've also never felt the vibrations of your footsteps on wood floors. And if they have...heh, they never appreciated it. Appreciate you, the way I appreciate us. Don't cry. There is no greater love. It will be alright. There's no need to edit this. We've pasted pieces of our past....cut details. We've become us. This is it. Droppin' 2 albums without fear of failure. 2 sheep. This is Shrimply Divine nail polish. My shelter from real life. Where I can live under your nails and let go of myself. You wear my sweats so well...you wear my sweat so well. You wear...me...so well.I imagine you...heh, us...amalgamated in our own surreal dream. Each strand of your hair preparing for the civil war created by Sundays. You won't understand. And I'm content with that. These are my triggers once I've lost everything. Do you love me? (nod) "do you know?"
I do.

How much can one learn from love? We're poetry in motion. They don't appreciate it. They never have. That's why we laugh. Do you see me in the stars. I'm a lunatic with conviction.
R U still down?
This is love resurrected. A volcano reinhabited. This is real.
Yikes.

Makin' Bread Rise

Mellow dramatic. Act it. Let's compact and act on pacts we promise we'll keep. Play for keeps? It's cool, we never had to. You were never mine. I was never yours. We only passed time. I'm past time. Double entendres and metaphors keep me warm at night. See, it's sort of like...lime green jolly ranchers and golden crisps. I'm golden...crisp. Sift through your stories. I know they're not all bad. ALL CAPS. You love it. Don't lie. I only did sometimes. You lie around too. Let's not be judgemental. I'm mental. Suspend you in narcotic memories. There's no better me. Believe me, they've looked. You've looked. Get over it, I'm all for it. More tip...more head, shit...you can only go up. Or down. Ha. 2+2=4. You never grasped the concept of simple math. Simple raps. That's all you ever respected. Selective hearing, hence the oblivious bearings. Bare with me. I'm nasty nice. Nasty right. Lastly...

I'm still me.
still #winning

Do Not Read

I've been out of control. Haven't paused.
#pause #nohomo
Ha. Any who...I haven't stuck to structure. As the days pass I realize that I'm beginning to swim with the fish. Things aren't the way they should be. I've really nothing to say. I'm back to the books and I'm back to the drawing board. Laziness may have taken its toll. Fuck. I dunno. That's the problem. Might disappear for a while. Might not. It's about that time. Suck it slow.

Piss The World Off

How real is that? The feel of it all....is quite tempting. Tempting, as in I just may. Ha. I'm told I think too much. I do. I used to be free flowing because I lived in Neverland. Now, I only visit on the weekends. My fault? Probably. But, can you blame me? Maybe it's the reason I feel I must always remind myself that these blogs are for me....and only for me. It's a fish eye view of what still goes on up here. So, dissect it as you must. At the end of the day, I know what I meant. My good friend purchased me a Christmas present this year. The gift of giving is a beautiful thing...but you can't front...receiving is awesome. Maybe it's because I haven't received any gifts that truly touched my soul as this one did, in a very long while....but...I'm thankful for the people I surround myself with. I'm constantly trying to convince myself that I do this for me, but honestly...at the end of the day, it's for my people. Being selfish is a bit overrated. Tell the philosopher and the economist and they'll tell you otherwise. But that's cool....we've become a body who rages against the machine. Word to Zack De La Rocha. This isn't supposed to make sense. (See, there I go again) I'm gonna take it and run with it. New Year signifies a fresh start. It's time to hit hard. Pussy is power....and you boys better remember that. Don't be so literal either. It will be the death of you. Laziness and sickness has taken its toll. I'm still researching but I think I'm getting closer to a solution. Her hips kill me. Her thighs take me....and her...heh, yeah....sacrifices me. We know what it is. Brush your teeth, children.

Out.
P-R-E

Swan Song

I've nothing to write about. Begin contradiction: Lose yourself. The words have never been more true. I've invited beautiful people into my life. I've sifted out the debris. I love you. For everything. 13. The design only evolves. I'm getting back on track. I'll touch her hand one day. Broken thoughts are for me. A reminder as to what I'm supposed to be doing. What I've come to do. Never wager with me. Especially when it comes to H.E.R. I've cleansed my habitat. Soon, I will create. And I dedicate it all to those of you who envy....those consumed with jealousy, hate...and most importantly, the dream killers. Fuck your numbers. Fuck your connect. Fuck your inconsideration. I'm not negative...just human. To Plex: everyday you convince me that gravity isn't real. The realist negates....the dreamer accepts. Thank you. For everything.
I don't read over these.
Natural.
Lose yourself.
Even if it kills you.
Sing your swan song.

-P

Common Advice

Write about what you know. Anything else is useless. Study your art. If not, you'll be bland. Don't be cookie cutter. You know this. Don't listen to me. Search for the ideal. Create the idea. Create. Bask. Love. Enjoy. Defy.

I don't need labels for this post. Fuck you, blogger.

It don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine.