.i get tired.

i get tired. of everything. like, i do not want to live here anymore. i just want to go home, and then i don’t want to live there anymore neither. i just want to be alone.

i grow frustrated. there are a million issues on my plate right now, and a million more tucked away. no one cares about the troubles you face. just show up “here,” on time, and leave quietly.

i turn disgusted. people will approach you with open arms, only so you see their hands are extended. i would offer you the world if you understood it’s beauty. but you are ugly, and you are ok with that. the facts of life do not make me judge you any differently, they just let me know that i AM not from this world.

i flipped on the news today and saw pluto listed as a planet again; good. i clicked through more and saw seasonal changes in mars have produced water on the planet, so??/ no one cares: be honest. we live in a country that has went on record numerous times, against my wishes, stating we have no use for a space program. still, every other week we are looking for life in other worlds… there’s a katt williams jokes in here somewhere. or maybe a diddy, shiny suit one that everyone is missing… if you don’t want to be on this planet anymore, you know how to leave… kill yourself.

i supported president obama for most of the duration of his term as a president, but i would be lying if i didn’t say he is ending his term worse than any before him. this is the time to coast and accept the praise. give yourself another nobel peace prize or something??/ i don’t know. i AM tired of hearing him contradict himself in every other appearance, negating the work that was laid out for him. it’s a clear indicator that he was unaware of his next step at every turn and used assistance. i don’t know if it’s because since my homelessness i have not been able to pay as much attention to the issues or whatever but, start the war already… or kill yourself. Continue reading

.free thought.

he gets angry at the direction in which things have gone. or is he angry that everything is gone??/ repeat.
he is not the only one focusing on the same thing every daze. you’re in a daze. you must bee confused. love is not some thing you are in but more accurately something he makes.
he. is a builder, an architecture of dreams. we should get together sometime and dance besides the fire. he will usher you to freedom. are you sure??/ type: unsure.
in the back of your mind you know fire is a destroyer. the feelings you have for him have grown consuming. this could bee dangerous. gravity has gotten a hold of me. did i ever tell you about the time….
good. you remember.


yesterday i slept beneath an evergreen.
it was a dream worth seeing.
the needles fell but did not prick.
i tossed nd turned but did not shift.
yesterday i slept beneath an evergreen.
a bird stopped by to rest his wings.
the air was cool beneath his feathers.
he sung songs of the world, knowing i was tethered.
yesterday i slept beneath an evergreen.
nd i awoke with a glint.
yesterday i slept beneath an evergreen.
hoping to refresh wat was meant.

aint shit pretty



miiiii bad for not getting back and checking in with yall. i have seriously been having the worst week ever, or are we on months now??/ fuck it… the whole year been shitty forreal butt uhhhhhh.. i AM not trippin, as we’re only half way through.

i know i promised an album version of screamfest this week butt uhhhhhh… see… what had happened was; my computer with all the music i was working on got stolen. i had like six unreleased projects on there, countless singles, posters, photographs, clothing designs, business proposals, scripts, and clips and now they’re all gone.
i literally have nothing now. i AM officially one of those people who goes to library and sits on the computer all day checking their yahoo account for craigslist ads, except i dont have an address to get a library card. so, i really just asked a stranger if i could borrow theirs real quick to write in mi diary.. yupp, i AM one of those people who ask strangers for strange favors and expects them to say ‘yeah.’ and no, i did not call it a diary, she did. either way i AM pissed, and wats all this shit i hear ab ghostwriters??// aint shit pretty.

.never in a thousand years.

i never met michael jackson, that was the dream though. there was a time in my life when i thought he would just show up to my window and we’d fly away to neverland. i never wanted to cum back. a part of me still cant ride a rollercoaster today without flashing back to the first grade.  i never grew up; mike would be proud.  still: i AM a lost boy, with dreams of leaving prints on the moon.  it’s hard to find people to align yourself when you dream so wildly. reality has a certain way of impugning circumstance on you. kings walk with kings, gladiators set chariots ablaze, and queens watch over the throne. i watched over the years as mike got into trouble with those kids and wondered what i could do to help a friend out. i guess at that age, you just believe whatever lies the tv tells you. it was me who needed help. someone told me when you receive you are supposed to give. that’s a motto i mostly use with women, but it’s good anywhere. forgive me if i cum off self absorbed, i promise you my heart is with your interests. i’ve always thought how to do a lot with a little, and have learned it’s better if you start with the little things. it was always amazing to me how he was able to bring together the world with his energy. that’s what i wanted to do, bring the world together. bridge gaps. if i could be friends with anyone in modern society, i’d want to be friends with  kim jong un. i wonder what him and dennis rodman be up talking about at night. that’s kind of a weird friendship to exploit to the world, don’t you think? or maybe i don’t know as much about friends as i thought i did… aint nothing pretty.