turn your lights down low.

the universe doesn't seem
to be fuckin with me.
oh well,
everything is temporary,
right?

but the struggle gets hard
when everyone around
you is bearing the fruits
of no labor.

& meanwhile,
you're slaving.
head barely above
water .......

but anyway,
i'm maintaining.

taking away
the lessons
the plight intends
for us to find.

i'll be good though.
i'll survive. :)

93 'til infinity.

i wish it would rain.

from Museum of African Diaspora.
photo by Chester Higgins, Jr.

bodies.

i effin love this song. :)

chocolate high.

2 much black + 2 much love = 4ever

raaaaage.

nothing no more.

i wish i could live in a bubble.
or somewhere in the desert,
surrounded by a force
impenetrable by civilization.

society has blinded me.
i am only as liberated as
the confines of corruptness
will allow me to be .

and its not enough.

this is how it feels
when the feeling of nothing
is filling you up.

:\

is it that i
am truly a gemini,
the possessor
of multiple
personalities?
or,
are these
contradictory
mentalities
alive inside of me
eternally feuding,
causing confusion
amidst my state
of uncertainty?

proceed.

#clapforem. :)

decoded.

sweeeet.

slr. [super lupe rap].

listen.
download.

song cry.

slappin:

mystery of iniquity.

from the oscar grant protest in july.

"i will die for mines,
even if mine won't die for me."

i can't bring myself to move.

i can't write down another rhyme,
speak another poem
or breathe another line
about what we as a people
must do,
in order for us to rise.

i can't cry another tear
for Oscar Grant
or any other innocent black
man
with hands tied behind
his back,
or mourn the souls
of nameless faces,
whose lives have been
callously taken
at the hands of these racists,
with untold stories never to
grace front pages
of newspapers.

i can't form the words
that should, at this point,
be branded into memorization .
i should be able to speak them
just once more
eyes closed,
mouth fixed
in repetition.

i should,
but i can't.

so yea,
fuck the system.


rip oscar grant.

check the rhime.

giving up.

Erykah badu - orange moon

remember, remember
the fifth of november.

best of me.

priority.

peace before everything. God before anything.

#np.

"i believe the bible
was stolen from the africans.
they raped the culture
& put it in the passages.
stripped it.
edit it.
watered it.
packaged it.
put it in a book &
created an acronym... . . .

-CurT@!n$, chant

free mumia.

sweet misery.

shut up.

this is for my ladies who crazy & got a mouth on em ... . .

a prisoner of regrets.
my conscious being held hostage
at point blank range,
memories taking aim
at reality.
mind in a state of emergency,
searching for a way out.
no rescuer in near sight,
no escape from myself .

my damn rant.

when everyone is different,
everything is the same.

tattoospiercingsmusicblogs .
designernamesfashiondrugsalcohol.
blackberrysiphonesmodelsactors
televisioncarssingersrappers.
etcetera. etcetera.

we just wanna be seen.

but instead of refining ourselves,
we are defined by these things.
using what is the same -
to express individuality.
& mufuckas swear they deep.
are we even aware that slowly,
we're losing the ability to think?
imitation
is
not
the
same
as
thought.
miseducation is not the same as being taught.

in being molded by societal labels
it seems we have forgot,

before we were overflowing
with amerikan culture,
we used to be filled with God.