Wednesday, 7 December 2016

God, here.

So I lost SEGA.
There's no love lost, but they apparently have moved on to the money.
I'm not even going to go into where they got the money from.
What I will say is, their "pact" was broken.
They know how they broke it.

I'll take responsibility for moving in with people of whom I thought attacked me in my sleep.
I did it because... well, one of the guys was my height, and I thought I could fight him.

I guess I froze up.

In the meantime, I subjected aliens and women to grave danger.
Now, I am alone.

Family will NEVER understand.
Management is cunning.
Friends are clueless.
Money is short.

And an album I don't stand all the way behind is getting ready to drop.
I spoke to one of the producers today.
The vibe was bizarre.
Just enough to let me know how right I was, all along.

Shame on a nigga who tries to run game on a nigga... ya know?

Back to SEGA.

I can't believe that after all of my silent years of worship of them, they would leave because I'm easily influenced.

I want to ask "Or did they?", but the signs are evident.
Not only is Dilla Trump still alive, but him and Silvery Clinton are an item.
Much to the nonchalant fuck given by Jay-Z, who's having a ball with my sleeping body, at his beckoning will.

So I could give a fuck right now.
Fuck this industry.
Fuck love.
Fuck worship.
You all made your decision.

Only to find out that the decision was made, for you, ages ago.

And I had nothing to do with the selection process.

I wish all my StarChasers a happy life.
I might keep blogging.
I might not.
I do know one thing:

I don't have to record/release another song as long as I live.
I've made my point.
I've compromised.
I've sacrificed.
I've been sacrificed.

I'm done with being a star.
The Star.

I thought I was The Sun, SEGA.
I also thought I was Sonic.
Or did Halo's "Beta Future" make THAT big of an impact on me?

Ya know, SEGA.
It could be bad for your existence if all of this was a chop from Mr. Stevenson.

I still love you.
But unreciprocated love leads to resentment.
Aka Hatred.

Something I know nothing about.

I don't hate you, Scooter.
I'm taking the Hov route.
I respect you.
You did what made YOU feel good.

I was diplomatic enough during the documentary.
I didn't want to reunite with Demevolist.
They HAVE to know they weren't my favorite people.
If they don't, happy birthday, niggas!

Now.
God, I know I'm a 6.
A witch.
A vampire.
Shit, I'm Satan himself.
But is my being reason to suffer?
I truly do love more than I hate.

If and since you're out there, watch over SEGA.
Watch over ALL.
Bless them (ALL).
And if you can, bring me some justice.

The cost of this prayer is probably worship, but like I said.
Fuck that.

Game over.






Don't look for me.







This one's for you, Green Eyes!






~follow the buzzards~



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