Random sequence of Quirky irrelevant thoughts

You know those markers that have the smell scented colors? Those were crazy! You can say alcohol or weed is a gateway drug, but realistically these things were the culprits! every kid had to have one... Every kid had to know what EVERY flavor smelled like, especially the terrible and rancid black licorice marker. ( Those things sucked ass) Kids were addicted to games, sugar, music, and card games like Yugioh. That's right! An addictive personality is the criminal! If we taught our kids the value of moderation, they wouldn't be all clingy and relying on drugs and alcohol to fulfill their needs. Which btw, I can't stand that phrase, "Drugs AND alcohol" seriously...? Alcohol is a drug you culture impaired monkey... Stop making up excuses why weed isn't legal and alcohol is. If you can die for your country, you can drink or smoke. Either that or increase the age for the army to 21. Rights, america! rights...

And now A little rap.

You can say what you want
you can hear what you need
But nights overcome the days
and the lights spray over the streets.
Look here, you're all mixed up
You're digging for oil when i'ts above
You're digging for oil when there's already enough.
When the love of power is conquered by the power of love
That's when we can mix it all together.

I can't rap worth a shit ha...
But I can write fairly and I can spit a lil' bit
Just don't get infected.
Trebles high, bass real low
Nobody got that bump, no one, this flow.
If you're close, i'll let ya know.
I'm drifting to space, out of bounds
Pass the moon, stars are where I go.
Staring back and relaxing
I'll be on the internet soon. Look me up hoe.

That's about done now...
I really love how the president is a scapegoat for how dumb we Americans are...
We ridicule the ones in power and they vote for them too.
What kind of clown posse conspiracy bull crap is this?!?
That's like having a security guard answering only to the shoppers.
Someone really needs to come and balance these party shenanigans.
I'm not one to be political, but it only makes sense...
It doesn't take a president to understand the conflict of prolonged disagreement.
Where disagreement can form bonds and excel knowledge, prolonged arguing causes panic and unrest.
That causes our officials to fear weary and willing to cheat to win. Once that happens, it's really hard to trust the average Joe from his not to trusty counter-part.
But in reality, Our government is built to stabilize under harsh conditions, so I expect it to fix itself.

I am however, excited at the though of a panic among us. Just like 911, it would alarm us enough to get our heads out of our asses. The government can only survive so long on it's own without public approval. Diplomacy has the most potency... Once any of that spreads, say goodbye to a restrictive government that can go one of two ways, Dictatorship or (What they wanted in the first place) improved living conditions and more rights.

rap time

Start the motion
forward I go
Cast my devotion
for Illegal threads.
unstable paradise
unstable home.
Winds blowing
Sea turning
Sick twisted mind
Own world burning.
Another kid
another life
Another bid
Another strife.
Give him gun, give him one
He'll be fine, guard the mine.
He'll be fine, fuck his mind.
Gold is gold
In a land built from dirt.
Clear is Gold
In a land built from earth.

Freestyled that. deal wit it

I'm done writing for now. enjoy

Witness to A Divine Murder

Witness to a Divine Murder

She was never-the-less united,

But a feeling of discourse soon passed over me.

She crawled over to me

And from within her spewed a reflection

Within it held the secret of life.

She quickly fell victim to a slumber.

With a pale face and a softened beat.

They hurried her off in the smoke.

.

The sky was blue

with bowls of cotton forming vivid shapes

that seemed to match her mood.

She passed the water and sat inclusively.

She was away;

Not by presence, but by spirit.

Her heart belonged to the wind

and her soul too.

It was the only thing she could be sure of.

She knew she'd have to leave one day,

Why not wonder where we're headed?

She always wondered where she would fit.

She played cards by herself

and she swam in circles.

Those circles surrounded her

and her reflection screamed alive.

But it was only a reflection.

Not a real being.

Right?

She picked up flowers that day

She smelled them and praised their becoming.

Pleased and gratified,

she welcomed joy into her home.

She exalted fear and begat fame,

She questioned authority and enjoyed simplicity.

She was one with heaven.

But heaven denies those out of fortune.

Heaven rejects those without product.

Those who have not created a pact with the Lord

Those who have not had the chance to meet him.

She was not one with heaven, but knew it so.

She knew heaven better than I.

She passed the sign once more

Amazed, she took a second glance.

Sometimes change looks better

the second time around.

She turned her head

She opened her eyes

and her thoughts flew.

She inhaled and the thoughts came back.

They were different now

They held a change

and were stuck there forever.

She wouldn't forget those words.

Secrets of Life.

In caution, she entered,

Scurried over to the counter and gasped.

She waited a good minute before speaking.

She tried, but no words came to;

Her thoughts were scattered and her voice was crippled.

Writing down numbers

All she did was write down numbers.

I never knew what they meant.

I think, neither did she.

Maybe she lost her ability to speak

or perhaps she was nervous.

She's changed, and even in silence

Spoke louder than anyone I knew.

It was a Thursday, mid-afternoon

clouds were grazing the sky

and gentle pellets of rain maintained their cool.

She kept a gentle pace

giving all equal attention.

Gave hearing to the birds chirping and the girls dancing

Laughing until they could no more.

She gave an eye to those having no vision.

She gave an ear to those not willing to listen

And gave patience to those avoidably waiting.

She walked to the sidewalk and paused.

She could feel the wind passively passing by.

She felt light; like a feather blowing in the wind

or a boxer in the fighting ring.

She was ready to fly, she wouldn't dare tell anyone though.

The night seemed to arrive quicker than normal.

The clouds moved at an eager pace

as if they were fleeing.

The moon was blank

With no face to stare back.

Still we moved across the street,

We found our place of arrival

at that old shop.

We went in and she looked around impatiently.

She knew what she wanted,

but couldn't find it.

She looked over at the register and back at me

And soon went on her way.

I stumbled through the walls of stuffed animals and bracelets

and I scuffled through the doors to the bathroom.

I looked into the mirror and saw

My reflection invitingly staring at me

As If it knew who I was.

They are “It's” right? They have no soul.

Just a reflection of those who do?

If it copies my every action and feature

It must be me. Am I unique, or am I the copy?

After seconds, she tugged my arm.

I walked out with her

and from afar a figure stood out.

He had white hair and a welcoming smile.

His eyes were a blatant brown

and his tone fairly light.

He came to us and looked at her.

With a soft voice he asked her,

What's the secret?

She paused and thought.

Her thoughts were always lost.

There was no sure way to find them

or exploit them at that.

She turned to me and held out her palms

and begged me to place mine in hers.

I did.

She took them with her other hand and said,

him.

I paused and quickly asked why.

I didn't know what she meant

She had no reason, did she?

The man asked if she was sure

and she promised.

He vanished.

I woke up Friday

and the taste of the fresh dew air was comforting.

I opened my eyes and let the sun inside.

The day was new and so were my worries.

The sleep that carried them away, has ended

and I am once again real.

We walked back down to that store.

She pleaded that I go with her and thus I agreed.

As we walked down the sidewalk, she halted,

stared into my eyes and asked me a favor.

She asked me to remember.

To remember if need be.

I was confused, but I agreed never-the-less.

A storm was heading closer.

It centered around us like glue.

Not feeling well, I begged to leave.

She agreed and took me outside.

Over the top of the street was our neighborhood.

She took my hand and walked by me.

We headed across the street.

I began to notice

an increasing pressure on my wrist.

I turned and noticed her clenching me as If I were dying.

Why are you holding me so hard?

I looked up and the light of what seemed to be

A thousand cities glared into my sore eyes.

Again I opened my eyes to see the smoke collecting.

I looked up

to see her staring at me.

With a smile fetching my joy.

Confused at the pain, I attempt to stand.

I notice she did not move

and yet her image descended

as If I were flying.

I looked down to see my eyes.

I stared into them.

My reflection invitingly stared back.

As If it knew who I was.

They are “It's” right? They have no soul.

Just a reflection of those who do?

If it copies my every action and feature

It must be me. Am I unique, or am I the copy?

I am not one with heaven.

But I knew it all the same.

This reflection

is this me alive?

Or is this me, dead?

I look down to notice her by the curb.

She was never-the-less united,

But a feeling of discourse soon passed over me.

She crawled over to me

And from within her spewed a reflection

Within it held the secret of life.

She quickly fell victim to a slumber.

With a pale face and a softened beat

They hurried her off in the smoke.

As she held my hand, We wandered off.

prism

I'm going to write this as a way to escape, as a way to release some tension, and Most likely will be in a poem format.

I think I've grown apart from who I really am and was. I thought religion would bring me closure, or closer
to some form of happiness; or even just being content. I was wrong. I thought the Sun moved because God said so, as with the rising of the sun. But I learn, I listen, I conform to logical voices telling me that there is more to this world than just the subtle spin of it's axis. I don't know if God said let there be light, and there was. I don't know if he flicked his wrist and the Earth was born, But I do know I'm here; so something created me. If you believe in nature, you believe nature is your god. There is no way around this concept. We didn't just simply POOF into existence, never the less did we spawn randomly.

We walk and wander for years and years in this abyss of confusion, wondering where we came from and why we're here. Though I do not know how, why, where, when or who, Maybe this answer will suffice. We are here to love, to care, to pass on our morales, ethics, and traditions onto each generation. Though we can't see the floor of this endless ocean, We see life. We hear birds and we feel the waves. It is there. What it exactly is or consists of shouldn't be the question, but what we do with it should be the answer. The water is abundant and the wind is forever pushing us along. With time, We'll sink to the bottom in an abysmal decay of flesh and life; only then will we find out what lies beneath.

I don't read. I don't like to read. I can't keep focus. I read a paragraph and understand the character thoroughly, and people think I've read the book. Why is this? I don't think I'm some kind of psychological orgasm of a mind, but I know people on a deeper level than most. Just ask my friends... This is not my point, I wonder why I have this gift. It seems to push me underwater most of the time- dealing with drama and being stressed over the problems of others- and some times pulls me out. Is this a curse or a gift?

I wonder who will read this. I write all the time, but I wonder who really looks at them. Everybody wants to be recognized, I seem to be infatuated and obsessed with it. My whole life I've been doubted, contorted, and pushed down for my beliefs and goals. For once, I want to be seen as an individual with something to offer and not some whiny kid with issues. Everyone has issues, I'm just painting my portion of the picture...But perhaps you do read. Perhaps you pay attention to each word placed inside each sentence and think of the relevance it has to your own life. If so, I am happy. All I want is to be heard, To assist in hardships, and to grow from mutual understanding.

We push and pull, we rise and fall, and some of us never notice the inertia. I've seen men boast about things that have no holding on their eternal life. Things like how many women they've been with, the trophies stashed in their closet, and even the parties they've been too. While these things have importance, they hold little value on the soul and I think it unwise to settle for that. Learn, crawl if you have to, become a child again. Reach out and explore every deep crevasse of this ocean you can, drown if you must, But remember, it's better to have witnessed and lived life than to float on the surface and die without wisdom.