There once was a kid who had nowhere to go. He had a whole lot of mouth but nothing to show. So he went to streets and started walking around with heat. Hustled on other niggas corners so he was always in some beef. But shorty had potential that kept deeply buried, he was tired of running the streets and making his mom worry. He wanted to be star but he was too scared to mention, he was smartest kid in class but he stayed in detention. He wasn’t all the bad he just needed some attention, couldn’t go see his dad so instead he climbing fences.Every night he would go home and write down his dreams and imagine how life was behind the big screen. Thinking of way that he could grind is way out, all the pain from the past made him want to scream and shout. Before he’d go to sleep at night he’d pray to above, everybody saw trouble but he really needed love.
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.
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
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.
I started this blog because I love writing and sharing my ideas and thoughts with anyone willing to listen( in this case read). What first drew me to writing is that I could become who ever I wanted and travel where ever my imagination dared to take me. Growing up I would always find myself wishing I was somewhere else, being someone different. Writing helped to take my mind off everything around me and ultimately helped me to become the free spirit I am, it freed me. Through my writing I realized I could imagine being whoever or wherever I wanted. Growing, learning and living helped me to understand that there’s no one I’d rather be other than myself; there’s no place I’d rather be than right here, living in this moment.
I hope you enjoy my writing and will follow me as I share my world and my words with you. I guess you can call this my Memoirs of a free spirit.