do they really wanna chill or do they wanna absorb and exploit my energies? more to come
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Sweet Seals For You, Always

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@alfreakasaphorisms
do they really wanna chill or do they wanna absorb and exploit my energies? more to come
Tell him youāre excited to have his last name and then marry his brother
This is some Shakespeare level shade
Waste his time 1616
being a girl who stans for girls but is also attracted to girls to so overwhelming sometimesā¦women are just so pretty and i wanna be married to all of them and see them grow and flourish and also succ a tiddy
itās a nigga at your girl job laughing at all her jokes you said was corny.
ya girl like him..she think he would make a good friend..they exchange numbers you just clueless.
he donāt like the same people she donāt like at work.. he texting her gifs and jordan crying memes..she love texting him he text back so fast unlike you.
she go out with her coworkers after work to get a drink like always.. but this time she invite him.. he just so funny.. everybody like him you at home losing in 2k.
you text her āwya itās getting lateā.. she look at your text like š because she donāt want the fun to stopā¦she think nobody see her..HE seeās her tho..he always seeās her.
she get home and y'all get into a big argument.. she go to work the next day still upset..he notices and asks her whatās wrong..she say nothing she tryna walk away⦠he grabs her hand and looks her in the eyesā¦āwhatās wrong?ā ya girl just break down in his arms and crying all in the break room.
a week go by yall still being distant..yall watching daredevil..well she not paying attention she on Instagram..he text her āyou watching Love & Hip Hop? lolā.. he seem so perfect.
she keep smiling in her phone..you ask her whats so funny? you snatch her phone and see his name.. she got him saved as āRick ššš¼ā your stomach just start hurting.
she tell you heās just a friend from work..she putting it all on you saying you been real insecure lately.. you yelling and holding back tears..ya nose start running..Rick just texted her a link to the new Beyonce song.
you text the group chat..āwe need to get up this weekend..#savagelifeā whole week yall not talking..you go out that friday night and donāt tell her.. you waiting for her to blow up your phone just so you can ignore her call..but she donāt call.. you start drinking everything.
ya homies all hype and having a good time dancing n shit.. you sitting down tho by the window looking at the stars..all you can think about is Rick ššš¼ blowing your queen back out.. you start thinking you overreacted..she wouldnāt do that..ya phone vibrate..āi dont think this is working out..ā
you call her and she not answering.. she drunk text back āim at Dave & Busters wth my co-wokrrs yhdāā¦. she been asking for y'all to go to Dave & Busters for a minute now.. you think it was her idea..but nahā¦it was Ricks.. ya limbs just collapseā¦meanwhile Rick just got ya queen a big polar bear with all the tickets he won.
you gotta find out who Rick is.. you looking at ya girl likes on instagram..searching for rick..you lookin..lookinā¦you find him finally..click on his profile and see this bullshit
you just start throwin up everwhere.
she come home tipsy..you ask her why she tryna throw everything away for this nigga.. she sighs.. then responds..āi just havenāt been happy..and this has nothing to do with Ricky heās just my friend from workā ā¦ā¦Ricky? ..you throw up again.
you tell her this is all stupid.. ask her if things can just go back to how they were.. you making promises to get yall back to how it was that first summer..she start crying you start crying..yall start kissing and touching.. you put ya hand up her skirt to take her panties off but they not there..ya stomach start milly rocking.
you mad now..Rick fucking ya life up..she tell you she never where panties with this skirt but you aināt tryna hear that shit.. you ask āwhere Ricky liveā ya voice breaking cuz you hurt..she say āim not gonna tell you, you need to calm downā butā¦how she know where he live? a tear start falling but you catch it.
you real mad now.. she tell you she only know because he couldnāt drive home and her friend dropped him off.. you ask her where he live again.. she ask you āwhy..what you gonna do?ā you start putting ya du-rag on and picking up ya keys off the dresser.. she say ābaby Rick is 6'5ā you start taking ya du-rag off and you place ya keys back on the dresser how they was.
you not being a bitch tho..you tell her you just gonna whoop his ass tomorrow.. you realize you been drinking crying and throwing up all night so you dehydrated and malnourished and you think itād prolly be smarter if you ate something and got a good nights sleep before you battle a starting small forward for your queen. you not being a bitch tho on mama you not.
Bruh. This is gold.
I really want an environmental revolution to happen soon. Gardens everywhere, herbal wisdom flourishing, intelligent environmental policies, aggressive fighting for plants, straying away from reliance on shady food industries and growing our own to help our own and nurture our own, we see everything, how itās made and who it goes to cause itās ours typa shit. I really want this.
š¤
How many people must I run into to understand that many humans today are not yet equipped to comprehend what it is I am observing?
I was not looking for no love affair
Or perhaps I was. What happened then? I awoke to information of a learning curve. Not mine, but one of another man. Simple in nature. Always doing things to make me pause. [pause] God* has a sense of humor, no doubt. I get these karmic impulses and revelations. And reflections. don't forget about the reflections. The Love Reflections. Thousands of miles away, a destiny to be free. I sometimes wish I didn't know the titles. Or that I had attached them to anyone. Yet, they are. And I have to dig up that regret. Study its soil. Examine its composition. Its imposition to my condition(ing). Never did I think I would be married before I truly understood its inner-workings. Before I refined my thinking and expectations (a bit). So, I currently and consistently arrive at new epiphanies! New ideas of how to live and benefit from liberation. Liberation in all its wisdom. Truth-telling and soul-sharing.
Intuition: I tried to make a home out of you but doors lead to trap doors, a stairway leads to nothing. Unknown women wander the hallways at night. Where do you go when you go quiet? You remind me of my father, a magician⦠able to exist in two places at once. In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3 a.m. and lie to me. What are you hiding? The past and the future merge to meet us here. What luck. What a f*cking curse. Denial: I tried to change, closed my mouth more, tried to be soft, prettier, less awake. Fasted for 60 days, wore white, abstained from mirrors, abstained from sex, slowly did not speak another word. In that time my hair, I grew past my ankles. I slept on a mat on the floor. I swallowed a sword. I levitated. Went to the basement, confessed my sins, and was baptized in a river. I got on my knees and said amen and said I mean. I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet. I threw myself into a volcano. I drank the blood and drank the wine. I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God. I crossed myself and thought I saw the devil. I grew thickened skin on my feet I bathed in bleach and plugged my menses with pages from the holy book, but still inside me, coiled deep, was the need to know⦠are you cheating on me? Cheating? Are you cheating on me? Anger: If itās what you truly want⦠I can wear her skin over mine. Her hair over mine. Her hands as gloves. Her teeth as confetti. Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane. We can pose for a photograph all three of us. Immortalized⦠you and your perfect girl. I donāt know when love became elusive. What I know is, no one I know has it. My fatherās arms around my motherās neck, fruit too ripe to eat. I think of lovers as trees⦠growing to and from one another. Searching for the same light. Why canāt you see me? Why canāt you see me? Why canāt you see me? Everyone else can. Apathy: So, what are you gonna say at my funeral now that youāve killed me? Here lies the body of love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted. Most bomb p*ssy who, because of me, sleep evaded. Her god listening. Her heaven will be a love without betrayal. Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks. Emptiness: She sleeps all day. Dreams of you in both worlds. Tills the blood, in and out of uterus. Wakes up smelling of zinc, grief sedated by orgasm, orgasm heightened by grief. God was in the room when the man said to the woman, āI love you so much. Wrap your legs around me. Pull me in, pull me in, pull me in.ā Sometimes when heād have her nipple in his mouth, sheād whisper, āOh, my God.ā That, too, is a form of worship. Her hips grind, pestle and mortar, cinnamon and cloves. Whenever he pulls out⦠loss. Dear moon, we blame you for floods⦠for the flush of blood⦠for men who are also wolves. We blame for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts. Loss: Every fear⦠every nightmare⦠anyone has ever had. Accountability: You find the black tube inside her beauty case where she keeps your fatherās old prison letters. You desperately want to look like her. You look nothing like your mother. You look everything like your mother. Film star beauty. How to wear your motherās lipstick. You go to the bathroom to apply your motherās lipstick. Somewhere no one can find you. You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face. Your mother is a woman and women like her can not be contained. Mother dearest, let me inherent the earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a god? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head? Am I talking about your husband or your father? Reformation: He bathes me until I forget their names and faces. I ask him to look me in the eye when I come home. Why do you deny yourself heaven? Why do you consider yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of love? You think itās not possible for someone like you. But you are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. Forgiveness: Baptize me⦠now that reconciliation is possible. If weāre gonna heal, let it be glorious. 1,000 girls raise their arms. Do you remember being born? Are you thankful for the hips that cracked? The deep velvet of your mother and her mother and her mother? There is a curse that will be broken. Resurrection: Something is missing. So many young women, they tell you, āI want me a hu ā see, all them make me feel better than you.ā So how we supposed to lead our children to the future? What do we do? How do we lead them? Love. L-O-V-E, love. Mm-mmm-mmm. Hallelujah, thank you, Jesus. I just love the Lord, Iām sorry, brother. I love the Lord, thatās all I got. When your back gets against the wall and your wall against your back, who you call? Hey! Who you call? Who you call? You gotta call Him. You gotta call Jesus. You gotta call Him. You gotta call Him ācause you aināt got another hope. You are terrifying⦠and strange and beautiful. Magic. Hope: The nail technician pushed my cuticles back⦠turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says, āI see your daughters and their daughters.ā That night in a dream, the first girl emerges from a slit in my stomach. The scar heals into a smile. The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails. We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath. I wake as the second girl crawls head first up my throat, a flower, blossoming out of the hole in my face. Redemption: Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half a lemon. Pour the water from one jug then into the other several times. Strain through a clean napkin. Grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the things left behind. Found healing where it did not live. Discovered the antidote in your own kit. Broke the curse with your own two hands. You passed these instructions down to your daughter who then passed it down to her daughter. I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up. I was served lemons, but I made lemonade. My grandma said āNothing real can be threatened.ā True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturers became my remedy. So weāre gonna heal. Weāre gonna start again. Youāve brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers. Youāre the magician. Pull me back together again, the way you cut me in half. Make the woman in doubt disappear. Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk. Knot after knot after knot. The audience applauds⦠but we canāt hear them.
by Warsan Shire for Beyonceās Lemonade album (Iām pretty sure all these words are by Warsan Shire, if theyāre not let me know)
The inspiration is limitless.
When I pay attention and trust myself, I feel like I can do anything.
palabra
In the clear, critical light of day, illusory administrators whisper of our need for institutions, and all institutions are political, and all politics is correctional, so it seems we need correctional institutions in the common, settling it, correcting us. But we wonāt stand corrected. Moreover, incorrect as we are thereās nothing wrong with us. We donāt want to be correct and we wonāt be corrected. Politics proposes to make us better, but we were good already in the mutual debt that can never be made good. We owe it to each other to falsify the institution, to make politics incorrect, to give the lie to our own determination. We owe each other the indeterminate. We owe each other everything.
Stefano Harney and Fred Moten, The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning & Black Study (via amaalsdrifting)
Don't accept the idea that the way we look is more important than the way we think.
source
context
seeking meaning within the context of the now, and what tools I have been given, and how best to implement them.
Full Blown
As I recognize our descent into a full blown A.I society, along with the prospects of a Basic Guaranteed Income* for every human, I see the stagnant waters of the under-consciousness as it makes waves in our discernment. Keeping us fixated on not so trivial, but temporary occurrences. Redirecting the creative intelligence that is needed to figure out how to best be useful for human evolution.
Most of us are solely consuming.
I wish more will for innovation from myself and others.
It seems to be the only way for us to speed up to the lane of technology.
Our abilities are becoming simplified, yet this is a crucial and complex time for humanity as we try to remain present, understanding of the past, and conceptual futurists in our endeavors.
Un-comfort-able
the first of many uncomfortable days wherein I knowingly abate the surrounding authorities and systemic bullshit. I feel even more so drained by the ubiquity and the vortical force of the internet. The sheer manipulation of information force us to consider the hijinks behind the political agendas, and all that taxes the soul element of our āworkā.
Sol Plexus- Montrealsā Nexus
* when our ego-centeredness is added to that of millions of other people, imagine the tremendous disharmony that is imbued in the world, coupled with the predominance of self centered lifestyles, we are creating mass destruction on a global scale. We are each in a position to halt this destruction and choose consciousness awareness.
The work we do should be to best of our ability, for the highest good, with compassion.
I love the moments and days that I feel impending greatness in my bones.
Pretension and Privilege
What is the effect of this niche aesthetic in culture? Another attempt to stave off the eminent catastrophe that is knocking at the front door of humanity. There is this pretension amid the enterprises that perpetuate the bubble of privilege. The bubble of out of sight out of mind in response to the natural disasters, the unequal distribution of resources, and the hopeless game of capitalism. We see it flourishing in the aesthetic of coffee shops or hip ass cafes. We see it in the proliferation of gossipy "news" and click-bait hashtags. Orchestrated to keep you idle in front of the screen, mitigating the outrage that would prompt you to action.