Decadence of Excellence

There never was such a thing as too much leverage. There's no such thing as too much reverence. If it's there then I believe it exists for a reason. Its proof that he, she or that which is now held in very high esteem was once the bottom of somebody else's joke. Its the consequence of one's persistent toil and resilient climb up success' slippery rope. they must have been steady. They must have taken it real slow. Or they probably did a dash. Raced all the way up the slope. Nay. What must be takes work to be. The quicker it comes; the quicker it goes. Great heights were never attained by sudden flight. Cos no matter how "overnightly" one's success may seem; it's almost always the result of one's up-all-night-ly attitude. They stand on floors amidst all their many flaws and see you cruising to insane altitudes. Do you now know why they're mad at you?! Excellence is a lifestyle and its one they're not accustomed to.

Once upon a friend

My heart bleeds on paper. Many a time its triggered when friends turn strangers. Like...how do you go from "talk to you later"s to "I dunno nuffn about her"s to "she became a hater". I'm forced to believe that time is the foe. The moment you meet someone you begin to countdown to when your time is o'er. Kinda like when you pop the cap off a bottle of soda. Takes a while to lose its gas and become flavoured water. I've got nothing against flavoured water but there's a deep trench between a stewardess and a daughter. Its either all of her or none of her. Logic calls it cowardice but common sense says you know better than to confront her. So you turn your backs on each other. Sticking pins in opposing spines. Blind and numb to her pain, you gladly reverse-acupuncture her. The hands that once swore to protect slowly lose their quiver. They're fixed now. They're firm. They violently echo symphonies of revenge. Hatred has a stench and you're reeking of it around your supposed-to-be friend. What's gonna be takes work to be. If you're not willing to put the work in on time; don't think there's always a late submission. Recognise the end.

Recrudescence

It's been two years since my last blogpost
two years since we played pretend...surrogate and host
two years since i let you in on the inner side of my mind
twenty four months since I spilled my thoughts online
a fortnight since I chose not to let things slide


misinterpret the time travel in the line above. you're allowed to.
things we see almost always fuel the channels our thoughts are inclined to
I'm not master Yoda; to be him I'm not trying to
cos he really is one with the force...I'm a disciple
studying the secrets of this existence part time like it's night school
crawling through the tunnels of your mind wearing blindfolds.


I care not whether or not I stand straight or I stumble.
I collide with your reasoning and feel your thoughts quiver. we're uncomfortable
but to be here is to die here...to leave here is to survive you
let it not be said that within the confines of your battles I grew idle
because metal slavery is an underrated tile
it goes from the simplicity of the dictatorship of the fictional simon
to laziness and blindness and self consuming titles.


To be a hero is to be a villain
The one who needs saving is almost always the saviour
To trust completely is to emancipate yourself from the fear of imminent betrayal.

. . .Slow

i'm not tired; i'm only slow
i'm not depressed, my countenance is just a lil low
a lil lower than the usual
the fire of desire burns at moments when its crucial
adrenaline wont pump till the consequences seem brutal
i'm listening to kelly's hear me as against rihanna's rude girl
it hurts at times when you stop and stare
when you wonder wether or not youre actually getting there
wondering whether or not there really is a place called there
or if there is a state of mind...somewhere up in your hair
there's two cans of juice extractable from fear
and at the moment my glass tastes like that of despair
cos the lake of fuel and fire and optimism isnt crystal clear
not anymore...the end seems near
someday; somehow; someplace; some town
i hope to get there, but there's no hurry
not at the moment, now i'm on cruise control
i'm not chuddy k...but it's slow slow!

Crown the BLaCk Sheep!

Crown the black sheep;
the kids with minds of they own where they ain't supposed to think
crown the instinct and the urge to stand against the norm
crown the sons of men who fly where others run
crown those of us who fall in love with anything tagged wrong
crown that belief that lets us say we don't throw punches; but we're strong

Crown that God given gift that abides misunderstood
that section of your persona that chooses to function under the unction of your desire for a reconstruction of the immediate environment
that portion of your soul that makes you do the re-wiring
that thing deep down inside that knows you wont win but is ready to die fighting
the very demon on your shoulder that says you're right; they shud quit arguing
Crown your ideas and your dreams and your goals, irrespective of how lofty they seem

Crown your resolve to never give up...crown your status as the rejected stone...Crown the head above which the houseflies buzz...

a lick by the tree

It's 3 o'clock in the a.m. and I'm on one of my habitual midnight strolls.
As always; my foul human stench congests the atmosphere and the beasts of the night are of full consciousness and awareness of my manly presence. A fox crouched in behind a refuse dump as i mindlessly walked by. Paying no reverence or acknowledgment whatsoever to the fact that a carnivorous creature stood less than four feet from where i was, i stopped to pee. A layman would call it guts; the cowardly would refer to it as stupidity, a more enlightened individual would consider the possibility of the fox's non existence within my psychic as a oneness with the fact that man as a creature is incapable of fully protecting himself from the prowling elements of nature. In actual fact; that deduction to a certain extent possesses an iota of truth, but a full understanding of that state of mind leaves one truth standing alone in the spotlight. The fox was the least of my worries. Call it reverse psychology, or call it a stroke of luck that somehow, i just happened not to have treaded the earth beside a vixen with offspring to fend for, and defend from any potential adversary. Call it a twist of fate; that I (who had consciously left my civilized surroundings) felt the urge to respond to the call of nature and fertilize the earth with the acidic remnants of every fluid substance my digestive system had handled to the best of its ability. Call it a lack of discipline and a reflection of an untamed urinary system. The truth is this. A son of adam had to pee; and he did! Fox or no fox!

Dilemma

It was visible, it had been made very clear. It was unavoidably obvious that the prodigy had been surrounded by a pack of unrealistic visionaries and time wasters.
like a thousand winds, a chronicle of unreal and incomprehensible dreams rushed through his thought faculty,letting him come to realize the fact that he was a mere reflection of his associates. . .or better still the sort of people he chose to surround yourself with. A pack of aspiring losers with nothing but the grace of jah going for them was not much to be envied for was it? All the same, a reality check never killed anyone at any point in time, it only succeeds in presenting the raw nature of your folly in a very "unminced" state.
Failure however is not in not succeeding, but its in failing to try again whenever shit goes wrong. He was now torn apart between these two schools of thought.
Should he lie in bed all day lazying about and waiting for september to get another shot at the disappointment of an incomprehensible inability to secure a slot in one of the nation's numerous academic institutions; or clear his head, and get raw ideas on his harddrive and focus or concentrate on realizing his dreams of a berserk upsurge career wise? Everyone expected so much that if maybe he was left all alone in this world he didn't know what path he'd choose.
Slowly, Steadily, unexpectedly, he was starting to feel like an undervalued jewel renegade trying to find a little something greater than the regular. Something way beyond the secular. . .a little something. . .more!