Happy holidays, my friends.
I hope you enjoyed your Christmas, or break, or whatever it was for you - religious, family orientated, etc.
I will write a proper post soon, but for now, I think I'll just enjoy some relaxation leading up to New Years.
Wednesday, 28 December 2011
Friday, 9 December 2011
To MC requires some skill, I demand to be shown.
Yo, yo...
Viral nation, with the unfair social expectation.
Riding hard, no motivation. Got this whole world wrapped in a poisonous situation.
There no escapin', my life, my strife...my delight in life, as I feel right.
We're all searchin' for that answer.
Some look to the skies, rooted on the lies told to us.
We got to grab, grasp it and take note of what it is.
But first, we gotta figure what that question is.
Their lies can't blind no longer, we must stronger.
Carry on through the danger, misadventure and don't let it phase ya.
A confused individual, with the metaphysical rhymes to keep this transitional.
We're moving quick, don't stop now [pause] you may feel sick.
Moving along this road, we're invited to feel our enemies throne, though, forsaken if we are to cry and call out injustice in this place we call home.
No, no, there be no rhymes or verses that will stop us reaching our hearses.
The heavens await, but only if you open your eyes and realise, there's nothing but these here night skies.
Lyrical content with no label, this here be my ghetto fable - the stable of rhymes here to enable...a fixed position in a political cradle.
Of course sense and logic is optional - a poet with no direction, or a song with strict apprehension to the words that are written.
We're all forbidden, locked down by our flawed system.
Mysterious gentleman, stands before us. Unrelenting in his mission to keep us uninformed
Removed from the establishment, home, world, nation - it's a mass segregation.
Mind and body, becomes nobody, a simple philosophy, changes an outcome to disqualify thee. Do you see?
Here with me, hold my hand, and let them know...we just gotta let 'em know.
A close to an existence, without warning, it's persistent to make us fall to the ground.
Witness this, as I stand here, let no one cheer, and I beg you not to fear.
What comes now, is merely a feeling.
The collective feeling - a changing of positioning. A mindset with a positive attitude - open to going past the average altitude.
There was my little rap. It was rough, and written on the spot...but yeah. The back beat is this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOX-kWQl-Vs
Thursday, 8 December 2011
Dispensary yum cha flounders.
Haha, yeah, Greek.
Αυτό δεν είναι σωστό.
I like myself a good font change.
I'm going to write a story. RIGHT COW.
"Hmmm, what's the answer to this equation?! I wish I knew!"
"Why, son, it's 20^3 + 45^7 = r23!"
"Thanks, Right Cow! You're always right!"
The trials and tribulations of Harry:
For there was a great cold in the house.
Unbeknown to Harry, of course.
Call of nature stirred him so. The awakening of truth and existence awaited.
Kindly strangers and misshapen women occupied Harry's mind as he approached the lavatory.
Incidentally the clock rang out a haunting tune, to signify the time was four am, or perhaps to allow Satan to enter.
Gently, Harry turned the door knob, and felt the cool, icy hand of something familiar yet distant.
Tender images filled Harry's mind, as the influx of pain overcome his vulnerable body.
Right then, he did realise his existence was but a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things.
In the darkness and light - he was empty, lost with nothing but icy chills that left their imprint on his eyes and hand.
Perfect, as it seemed, was the day. Time has gone past, and Harry had begun to forget his encounter with it.
Pleadings of salvation fell on deaf ears, as the death took his body into the void of emptiness.
Ending, as it was, a chapter that would serve no real purpose to the world as it was known.
Referring to his prior experience, he made sure Harry knew what to expect. The pain was never has he had thought.
AND ON THIS DAY, HE WAS GONE:
And on this day, we left him.
Bare and vulnerable, he lay.
We wouldn't dare look into his eyes. We knew nothing would look back at us.
Stroking the hair of his head, we carried out painful normalities.
The bell tolled - though, only one could hear it.
Ending the day that was our own. Leaving nothing in its wake.
The passing had caused no change.
The soil fell into place, and lay in way that would hide away what we wished not to see.
Kindness and actions of valour were discussed.
An ocean of sorrow dampened the wooden prison.
The icy glass further detached us from the world.
What was left for those, but to take inspiration.
And on that day, I left.
Some Emily Dickinson shit right.
THE QUIET SUPPER:
He watched, as those around him gorged on the forbidden apple.
Their souls empty - relaying only vanity and the superficial.
Such burden he felt, for what had to be done.
The murmurrings of those around him, left him disgusted.
They had no right to inhabit his place - to take what they did not deserve.
The owner and savour should choose what is best.
Liquid fire covered his face, as he filled his righteous duties.
The selfish, sin ladden screams were like soft fruit to his ears.
He would be proud of the work he'd done.
Adorned with metal bracelets and powerful uniform, he marched to the garden of Eden.
The others were but confused souls who had found the place, but not filled their promises.
The glow of the divine - the white of his glory. It covered his soul. Alone he stood in exctasy.
Il a regardé, comme ceux autour de lui gorgés sur la pomme interdite.
Leurs âmes vides - la vanité uniquement le relais et le superficiel.
Ces charges se sentait, pour ce qui devait être fait.
Le murmurrings de ceux autour de lui, lui laissa dégoûté.
Ils n'avaient pas le droit d'habiter sa place - de prendre ce qu'ils ne méritaient pas.
Le propriétaire et savourer doit choisir ce qui est le mieux.
Feu liquide se couvrit le visage, comme il a rempli ses devoirs pieux.
L'égoïsme, le péché cris ladden étaient comme des fruits doux à ses oreilles.
Il serait fier du travail qu'il avait fait.
Parés de bracelets en métal et uniforme puissant, il marcha vers le jardin d'Eden.
Les autres ont été confondus, mais les âmes qui avaient trouvé l'endroit, mais pas rempli leurs promesses.
La lueur du divin - le blanc de sa gloire. Elle portait sur son âme. Seul, il se tenait dans la exctasy.
Le silence était le cadeau qu'il accordées.
Αυτό δεν είναι σωστό.
I like myself a good font change.
I'm going to write a story. RIGHT COW.
"Hmmm, what's the answer to this equation?! I wish I knew!"
"Why, son, it's 20^3 + 45^7 = r23!"
"Thanks, Right Cow! You're always right!"
The trials and tribulations of Harry:
For there was a great cold in the house.
Unbeknown to Harry, of course.
Call of nature stirred him so. The awakening of truth and existence awaited.
Kindly strangers and misshapen women occupied Harry's mind as he approached the lavatory.
Incidentally the clock rang out a haunting tune, to signify the time was four am, or perhaps to allow Satan to enter.
Gently, Harry turned the door knob, and felt the cool, icy hand of something familiar yet distant.
Tender images filled Harry's mind, as the influx of pain overcome his vulnerable body.
Right then, he did realise his existence was but a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things.
In the darkness and light - he was empty, lost with nothing but icy chills that left their imprint on his eyes and hand.
Perfect, as it seemed, was the day. Time has gone past, and Harry had begun to forget his encounter with it.
Pleadings of salvation fell on deaf ears, as the death took his body into the void of emptiness.
Ending, as it was, a chapter that would serve no real purpose to the world as it was known.
Referring to his prior experience, he made sure Harry knew what to expect. The pain was never has he had thought.
AND ON THIS DAY, HE WAS GONE:
And on this day, we left him.
Bare and vulnerable, he lay.
We wouldn't dare look into his eyes. We knew nothing would look back at us.
Stroking the hair of his head, we carried out painful normalities.
The bell tolled - though, only one could hear it.
Ending the day that was our own. Leaving nothing in its wake.
The passing had caused no change.
The soil fell into place, and lay in way that would hide away what we wished not to see.
Kindness and actions of valour were discussed.
An ocean of sorrow dampened the wooden prison.
The icy glass further detached us from the world.
What was left for those, but to take inspiration.
And on that day, I left.
Some Emily Dickinson shit right.
THE QUIET SUPPER:
He watched, as those around him gorged on the forbidden apple.
Their souls empty - relaying only vanity and the superficial.
Such burden he felt, for what had to be done.
The murmurrings of those around him, left him disgusted.
They had no right to inhabit his place - to take what they did not deserve.
The owner and savour should choose what is best.
Liquid fire covered his face, as he filled his righteous duties.
The selfish, sin ladden screams were like soft fruit to his ears.
He would be proud of the work he'd done.
Adorned with metal bracelets and powerful uniform, he marched to the garden of Eden.
The others were but confused souls who had found the place, but not filled their promises.
The glow of the divine - the white of his glory. It covered his soul. Alone he stood in exctasy.
Il a regardé, comme ceux autour de lui gorgés sur la pomme interdite.
Leurs âmes vides - la vanité uniquement le relais et le superficiel.
Ces charges se sentait, pour ce qui devait être fait.
Le murmurrings de ceux autour de lui, lui laissa dégoûté.
Ils n'avaient pas le droit d'habiter sa place - de prendre ce qu'ils ne méritaient pas.
Le propriétaire et savourer doit choisir ce qui est le mieux.
Feu liquide se couvrit le visage, comme il a rempli ses devoirs pieux.
L'égoïsme, le péché cris ladden étaient comme des fruits doux à ses oreilles.
Il serait fier du travail qu'il avait fait.
Parés de bracelets en métal et uniforme puissant, il marcha vers le jardin d'Eden.
Les autres ont été confondus, mais les âmes qui avaient trouvé l'endroit, mais pas rempli leurs promesses.
La lueur du divin - le blanc de sa gloire. Elle portait sur son âme. Seul, il se tenait dans la exctasy.
Le silence était le cadeau qu'il accordées.
Look, Mum! No hands! Or legs! Or common sense!
Roads. The backbone of the world - the keeper and controller of the automobile. They serve a great purpose - truly a very smart, logical invention. The son of the path and track.
Oh yeah, and they hurt like fuck. Hard surface and what not.
Exeter RD (oh yeah, so you know it? Mad), is quite the steep road to be honest. Going down it, during the day, on a long board was not my smartest move.
I came from the top, all the way to the bottom! Well, that's a lie, I was very close, but not quite the bottom.
Actually let me just summarise it.
Road.
Speed (lol, two meanings?).
Car.
Gravel rash, cuts, bruises, blood and pain.
A shopping trolley.
SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD DAY FOR AIDAN.
Mum always said I'd be popular - I mean cars even hit on me.
I am bandaged and in pain still...but you know? Trying that shit again when I am better.
Happy Anthony? I TOLD THE WORLD ABOUT MY CRASH.
Oh yeah, and they hurt like fuck. Hard surface and what not.
Exeter RD (oh yeah, so you know it? Mad), is quite the steep road to be honest. Going down it, during the day, on a long board was not my smartest move.
I came from the top, all the way to the bottom! Well, that's a lie, I was very close, but not quite the bottom.
Actually let me just summarise it.
Road.
Speed (lol, two meanings?).
Car.
Gravel rash, cuts, bruises, blood and pain.
A shopping trolley.
SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD DAY FOR AIDAN.
Mum always said I'd be popular - I mean cars even hit on me.
I am bandaged and in pain still...but you know? Trying that shit again when I am better.
Happy Anthony? I TOLD THE WORLD ABOUT MY CRASH.
A foggy conscience.
It would be unfair and ridiculous of me to claim I have depression, so I won't. Just a spot of feeling a bit down and out for myself. It's no biggie really. It shall pass in time...but at this moment, it's proving to be troublesome.
I am running out of things to distract myself with, and relying far too heavily on my friends - unfair expectations of what they should/can do. It's one of those difficulties that you need to tackle personally and get over it by your own accord.
I could stop all this - I could be selfish and stop all the pain I am feeling. I won't do that though, I won't let myself buckle. This is not for my sake or happiness, it's for another's, and in the end, that'll matter more.
On the topic of my all encompassing selfishness...there is still that fleeting thought that I can get this. There is always hints, and subtle acts that lead me to believe that I should just reach out and do it. I can't bring myself to do it - it's all so confusing, words and actions don't seem to be related. Which is very annoying. I know how much pain and hurt this would cause - but I want this, and for so damn long...it seems to be a recurring problem.
I realise that was vague and doesn't even specify what I am talking about...but that's what I wanted.
I have no idea what I want to do right now, or tomorrow, or the next day. So many insecurities and self-hatred. So many frustrations.
SO MUCH COMPLAININ' AND BITCHING.
Some times you got to lighten the hell up...then again, we all need to wallow in self-pity sometimes.
Also, I went to the Foo Fighters...and then decided to go out buy all their albums because the concert was so good. I have a new found respect for Dave Grohl. He was amazing with the audience.
Oh, and the songs weren't bad either.
There isn't really many rules or regulations you need to follow when writing a blog. I feel like toying around with what to write, how to write it and what not.
Have you met my friend, Evan Wong? No? He acts in a show where he pretends to be a doctor. Doesn't ring any bells? Ah well. He's my hero - he just always knows what to say.
WHAT WERE THOSE REFERENCES? IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. Screw it, I am finished making sense.
Isn't life just confusing as blind testicles? I mean, seriously, what the hell does any of this mean...what purpose to any of us ultimately. Unfortunately, a lifetime is a long time to bitch about it and do nothing.
I am running out of things to distract myself with, and relying far too heavily on my friends - unfair expectations of what they should/can do. It's one of those difficulties that you need to tackle personally and get over it by your own accord.
I could stop all this - I could be selfish and stop all the pain I am feeling. I won't do that though, I won't let myself buckle. This is not for my sake or happiness, it's for another's, and in the end, that'll matter more.
On the topic of my all encompassing selfishness...there is still that fleeting thought that I can get this. There is always hints, and subtle acts that lead me to believe that I should just reach out and do it. I can't bring myself to do it - it's all so confusing, words and actions don't seem to be related. Which is very annoying. I know how much pain and hurt this would cause - but I want this, and for so damn long...it seems to be a recurring problem.
I realise that was vague and doesn't even specify what I am talking about...but that's what I wanted.
I have no idea what I want to do right now, or tomorrow, or the next day. So many insecurities and self-hatred. So many frustrations.
SO MUCH COMPLAININ' AND BITCHING.
Some times you got to lighten the hell up...then again, we all need to wallow in self-pity sometimes.
Also, I went to the Foo Fighters...and then decided to go out buy all their albums because the concert was so good. I have a new found respect for Dave Grohl. He was amazing with the audience.
Oh, and the songs weren't bad either.
There isn't really many rules or regulations you need to follow when writing a blog. I feel like toying around with what to write, how to write it and what not.
Have you met my friend, Evan Wong? No? He acts in a show where he pretends to be a doctor. Doesn't ring any bells? Ah well. He's my hero - he just always knows what to say.
WHAT WERE THOSE REFERENCES? IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. Screw it, I am finished making sense.
Isn't life just confusing as blind testicles? I mean, seriously, what the hell does any of this mean...what purpose to any of us ultimately. Unfortunately, a lifetime is a long time to bitch about it and do nothing.
Tuesday, 6 December 2011
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