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Projections

Through experience and observation, I’ve come to realize that  no other person will ever be made in our image except ourselves. So that if there is a such thing as a ” soul mate” – or whatever phrase is more appropriate today- he/she will also be made in an image of their own and this will more than suffice.

I’ve come to find that the things that draw us closer to people are more complex than the  the images our eyes project. which is why I believe that what makes us of fall in love stretches beyond the natural senses, past explanation and reaches further than the  lengths of time and distance.

What do you think friend?

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What’s reality?

I believe that we are all afraid and because we are afraid we create personalities as defense mechanism against this world which seems so unpredictable at times.

We never know what will or won’t happen and it causes us to create super hero’s in our minds; who’s jobs are to protect of from the chaos.

In effect, these super hero’s become personalities that we take on often take on to fight anyone or anything perceived to threaten our so called existence.

If this is true, if we can create various personalities based on our fears and perceptions of the world; how can we really say that who we claim to be or what we claim to see is real?

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The Goat

Dear Self,

Lately I feel like it’s just me and you

Because no one understand the changes I’m going through

In my mind, if 1 wins, nobody can lose

So why do I feel so uncomfortable expressing good news?

Is it my fault that they got complacent?

While I built myself and reconstructing my foundation

I want it to be love but it feels like they hatin

Like they want me to fall and won’t mind waiting

Maybe they got used to me being broke

Now I be flexing like I’m selling dope

But you know something that they’ll never know

Like how even when it got dark I never lost hope

And even when it rain didn’t stop I saw over the rainbow

So I deserve the world and everything in it

And when I reach the top I’ll have you as my witness

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Memoirs:Theory About Riches

What does it mean to be rich? Which value do we use to measure someone’s wealth in this life?  Is it by the sum of luxury one has experienced? Or the pain one has endured as a sacrifice to see a loved one smile?

Maybe its measured by the amount of material things acquired over a time, or the magnitude of things we’ve had to let go in order to become better versions of ourselves. Whatever the case, If one’s goal is to be truly rich, their first mission should  indeed entail obtaining knowledge about the path they’ve chosen to embark upon (becoming rich).  Also important, they must be able to differentiate between that which is rich and that which poor. Unless this quest is fueled by an inability to see and  understand the real path; which is  truth.

What do you think friend?

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Memoirs: The “Hit em up” theory

What if Jesus didn’t rise on the third day and forgive those who had portrayed him?

What if came back in all black with guns ready to spray em?

What if he rose from the dead in his hospital bed?

And decided that whoever set him up was dead

Plus everyone at the last supper had to died too

he aint know who to trust when he rose from that tomb

So he called his henchmen, Gabriel was in the front

horsemen treading, equipped with the pumps

No Arc this time because everybody had to go

Since when he offered to save them they told him no

What if he smiled in delight as they were slowly devoured by thier own demons?

All because they chose to take his kindness for weakness

And when his father called to invoke a change of spirit

He turned off his phone because he wasn’t tryna hear it

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Sunrise’s At The Pier: Euphoric 

As I stood in the doorway, eyes piercing through the dark of the night, obsessing over satins unique ability to caress every curve and angle of her frame.
I received an impulse to approach my prey. So smitten I don’t recall how I traveled the distance. Maybe I glided, maybe my wings flew me towards my dream.

Losing control of my bodily functions-it was if my heart took control and didn’t require permission from my brain anymore-while she lay still on her back like a goddess waiting to be taken by her fierce gladiator.

My fingers began to caress the triangular parts of her body and steadily moved to the creasing parts of her spine, sliding towards the cushions of her backbone.

Between her thighs I feel the steam from her ocean shooting out like a rapid fire; enough to invoke a mist.

My palms soon seek refuge in her well groomed garden. My brain begins to function slightly but only enough for me to imagine the pleasures my extension may feel might I dare expose it to her narrow river.
This would not be the first time I’d taken a dip in these warm waters -where I’d been many times smalls distances between life and death-and it wouldn’t be the last.

while on this expedition toward passion I always retrieve myself moments before my demise. Within each step I take towards an inevitable death I feel I become more alive.

I have no control of myself yet full control of her, this is my final fantasy, this euphoria.

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