So it's love.
But they insult me for fun when I genuinely ask if they're okay. And they do it on #TheDownLow, a realm I don't fuck with at all.
When you're ready to speak to me maturely and get to the root of whatever the fucking problem is, I'm here. Until then, leave me alone.
I love you too much to play around.
I spend my weekends with StarChaser Jason Urrutia. Cool guy. Asks a lot of tough questions. Reminds me a lot of me.
I gotta warn you. I get retarded when I get high. I'm still bad, but everyone is a villain to me when I'm high. Just how the cookie crumbles.
As innocent as she looks, she is the slickest of players. And I love her for it. A playa got me in a bad position.
I shall bounce back. With or without her.
But I love her regardless.
She says I'm free to talk to whoever, but she's off the market for now.
I await the days.
I don't really talk to too much of anyone these days.
So I gave in and listened to J Dilla today. I am forever grateful to have access to some rare Dilla, and YouTube always has some unheard stuff.
I've learned to harness my introspection into Nikki Giovanni-type ego trips. When I want to beat myself up for not being a king, I will. When I want to wear my crown, I will. If the hit is hard enough, I'll fight back.
The above, the level of verses I been spittin.
Electronic Christmas, in progress.
The Parkers were on TV this morning, and they were reading Langston Hughes', "To Artina". That sparked me to motivate Columbine Gang and post the poem on the CGi blog. The day passed, and I felt the need to esoterically explain why I put the poem. You can't force creativity, basically. I challenge everyone to read the poem (and really all of Langston's poetry) to get a feel for it.
As you know, I often put freewrites on my blog. Literally poetry spawned at the moment of writing the first word. If you want more freewrites, let me know. I may even be working on a book of them. ;]
I'm tired, it's raining, day 2 of no weed... feels strange. I'll get used to it.
I think this is a real thing. It's when you project the energy of a needy, younger sibling. I don't mean to do it. I don't think I do it. But it's been a thing for me for some time now. My newest goal is to become less dependent and more self-sufficient. I don't like being screamed at for not being good at the basic things. In my defense, I am into more complex, thought-bearing activities versus common, everyday activities.
This doesn't make me better than anyone. I just know myself.
Having Little Brother Syndrome, I can tell when someone is projecting it. The thing is, they don't know what they're doing. Like a lot of people when moves in the subconscious realm are called out.
Look. If you look for a dragon, you will find one. That's something easy to learn and that you learn early. I don't look for trouble. I don't look for anything but records and artwork. But I see that not being a functioning member of society can lead to the bumping of heads among administrators.
Then again, some people just don't know how to speak diplomatically.
Whatever. Nothing can break my stride. I feel too good about everything nowadays to be shelved by a temperamental old man.
Since around 2013, I dedicated myself to being The Hermit in Tarot. The all-knowing, self-isolated elderly male figure that bears the light his own way. I denied being The Sun, The Devil and The Star, just to be The Hermit. Being in LA makes me want to be The Sun again. But am I being caught up in LA's lure? Could I fall victim to #TheHollywoodCurse?
I don't want to.
I'm not going to.
Today, I conjure The Hermit, The Sun and The Star. I launch pentacles at my enemies and subdue many with my wands. I believe The Hermit has dealt with Wands all his life, and rarely touches The Sword. I haven't had a good orgasm in almost 2 years. Being The Star would change a lot for me. Being The Sun would mean to just be myself.
So, the plan is to shine ridiculously, calling for as little attention as possible, while I work on my craft.
There. Now I make sense through magick.
This is the sequel to Hypergoth!. Equally as rebellious, but calming. Express yourself by listening to this album. From fighting in the midst of love to love in the midst of fighting, this album is the magical cure to indecision about heartbreak.
I have a nasty toe infection. I got bit by a mouse in 2018. I haven't had the time to get it checked out, and my next doctors appointment is in May sometime. I try to stay off my feet, but each day calls (for me).
I think I need a different state of thinking. I was very much rallying for my worship from 2006 until recently. I see that there are bigger issues than me, most of which dealing with race. Last I checked, I was good with white people. That is, until the Republic deal.
Now, every man for themselves.
I feel for everyone who was killed by an officer, and beg law enforcement to ease up on the usage of force. Politicians, poor black neighborhoods exists, and require your attention. Young black men, stop provoking officers to attack you.
Much more, but all for now.
What are we going to do when The Internet crashes? I know we all dread the thought, but it's a looming threat with everyday. The Instagram showoffs are gonna have to find a new means of expression, the Twitter columnists are gonna have to compete outdoors... yeah man. I don't know how folks are gonna survive when The Internet comes crashing down.
I did what I could to improve the environment, as requested by women. WOMEN, DON'T ACT LIKE WE AREN'T AS CLOSE AS I'VE BEEN AVOIDING US BEING. I cleaned everything. Food, water, education, entertainment. Still, you want things to go back to the way they were. Fine. Have your world. Complain no more.
A lot of my music hasn't aged well. At all. I don't even speak to Demevolist or Simone (either Porter or Marshall). Toya is married with children. Sciryl is nearby as in on the west coast, but we don't speak often. The difference is, I spent more meaningful time with B (Sciryl) than Demevolist, Simone or Toya. The problem is, I think B appreciates the music that I feel hasn't aged well.
Rihanna being Briana would brighten my day. I have every reason to believe she is, based on what I know. Maybe it's not up to me to prove who she is to other people. Still, I can't listen to Awkward. Kinda the same way she didn't perform any songs from "Good Girl Gone Bad" at the Super Bowl. Times have changed between us.
I think I started getting used to making esoteric love songs around "Villain.". I feel better because I talked about the ladies in question, relieved myself of the tension I was feeling (lyrically), and allowed the memory of everyone to linger in the music. I feel like Villain. should be discussed more in my catalog. I may remaster it and put it on streaming.
"Body Telepathy" survived. I feel good about that. But a lot of my written work seems to have slumped a little bit. At least in the context of my personal life. I have a whole new set of people in my life. New priorities. New outlook on life in general.
I just wish sometimes someone would call.
Every day, I find myself on the phone for several hours on in/end. Yesterday, I put the phone down. Wouldn't you know it, I got zero calls yesterday. Maybe I do chase after people. The only phone call I got was from Baddie.
I'm not mad at the people in my life. I reach out a lot, forgetting they have a life, too. I can be annoying. Still. NO calls yesterday. And none today, so far.
Is this the meaning of my existence?
After prayerful meditation, I decided that I'll only get back into the rap game if I can sign to Shady Records. And I would be recording...
^ ^ ^ Click the pic. You're welcome. update: behind the scenes! More footage to come. update: meet Hamilton, Charles . Pronounced Hamilt...
(hook) If I were you, and you were me... I wouldn't be ready. What if you feel my pain? And... what if you hear my thoughts? Yeah. If y...