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.