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Solar Energy

Who will love this man?

A question I sometimes ask myself at night while alone listening to music and feeding to  my oral fixation with a cigar I purchased from an Asian restaurant.

Deep thoughts circle in my mind. Some so dark that I immediately pray they never escape my mind. Others so enlightening that I fear ill be crucified if I ever form words to express them.

You see, I’m afraid of myself. My essence and my power make me feel like I’m the Sun; beautiful to look at but too dangerous to get close to.

My clairvoyant persona something I sometimes wish I could hide but like the sun surrounded by clouds its only a matter of time before the light on the other side peaks through again.

As I begin to regain focus my vision clears and I recognized my path, filled lighted and  truth.

Yet some nights I still find myself asking:

“Who will love this man?”

Who will be brave enough to love the man who holds the power to either heal or destroy the world?

HE, he will love Self; for his survival in this dimension rest upon this defining decision.

 

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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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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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Reciprocity 

I often read sayings/statements which discuss how ” there is always someone in the world willing to kiss/worship the ground we walk on” and I believe this is true; but I also believe that the people we meet in this life are a reflection of where we are in our human development. If this is true then it would mean that in order to receive such treatment one must be willing/able to reciprocate. 

On the other hand, I also believe that someone who genuinely loved you would never allow you stoop so low as to worship them but would instead be too concerned with raising you up to your rightful state of being, your higherself, your highness. 

This of course just my humbled opinion so don’t be afraid to tell me what you think.

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Statistic 

I was in the alley watching niggas serve the fiends 
Listening to Papi sell the hood niggas dreams 
I was in an Audi by the age of 17

Couldn’t go to sleep I had smokers in my dreams 

Tried to keep the peace but I would smoke you for my cream

I just had to have it

Light skin bitch kept saying I was average 

Didn’t want to fail, didn’t want to live bummy

Late night kitchen table counting up the money 

Everything was blurry my whole life looked fuzzy 

All I really wanted was for somebody to love me 

Moving too fast now my room look like a cubby,

Eating chi’s chi’s chips cutttin up my tummy 

1 year down 15 years coming 

All this time left and ain’t no runnin 

It’s 1 million kinds a way to eat

But the hood got me thinking the only way is the streets 

So when I get home Ima trap some more 

and when I get smoked they spray paint me on the corner store 

My kids won’t have a father and their mother will be spiteful

Because she knows that they’re  doomed to continue the cycle 

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BElieve 

Scientists have agreed that based on their body composition bees 🐝 shouldn’t be able to fly. In other words their wings are not physically strong enough to carry their bodies. However, despite this disadvantage bees 🐝 still manage to float through air gracefully. Because the bee is born with wings it BElieves that it was born to fly and so it does that thing in which it BElieves it was born to do, FLY. What if we are all born with wings? What if the only thing stopping us from flying is us? What if all we have to do is BElieve? 🐝

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