If the start of capital-LIEzation,
Was the start of finance-ING, { but with paper }
Then why do people wonder if the kings and queens {of monarchies }
Could never hope to be inviting to people like you and I.
Yet identification is part of how they keep you bottled up inside { yourself }
We’ll maybe it’s because we’d all be dead in time for this,
Silly little song to notice when it’s time to stick,
Inside your mind and end with frames of re-fuuuurrrr-ence.
Despite the crimes that anyone just might commit
Instead we barely hope { delay }
Because hope gets you kill’t
If you ever knew my cousin whom is gone you’d still
Not imagine why or how or who or when nor what, ended his existence as one dirty mutt.
See I can say that because like myself
[point to your brain; pause]
His body was a victim of the historically,
Oppressed peoples from the island of minorities.
Whom were destroyed for their resources by one Christ-o-ball
[Wait, then say “Columnbus, not the one in Ohio tho”]
ANNNNNNNDD despite this we’re not 1 nation but rather a single part.
Of the whole of this country who needs know about their fates, THHHHHEEEEEEE
Taínos weren’t on one island but they were pretty great.
So back to death my friend whom took my cousin to nil.
Whence you’re zero you don’t have to stress about the world.
Yet because identity is one how we tend to think, don’t identify with me because we’re not one think-
ING part of a nation, we’re just atomized.
Close your eyes and blink to imagine { no really, please close
your eyes }
Blink inside yourself
Consider for once, your place
In relation to others is where you measure your space
You don’t have to wonder about me when I’m gone instead; pretend to know what happened whence I became dead.
Ignorance IS NOT fucking bliss, though I’d consider fucking
with it
Kill the nations, masters, isms, but don’t take the world with them.
¿Recall your thoughts when you were nothing?
No you don’t, nor do I.
Hold on to those you love for
If you dissociate, like me
Than you might think you’d died’d
Yet that sentence makes no sense-mas lest we’re making fun of Christmas.
Which we should, cause god ain’t dead, he never FUCKIIINNNNNNG EXISTED
So, that’s me, I think, though I’m not immune, to seeing myself through all of you.
See me afterwards to cry and drink and I’ll see you at the saloon.
Think again, blink twice more whilst your eyes aren’t closed.
Wipe your brow, you’ll become dead, hopefully not by noon.
izzy806
yousharknotpass
janainaart
baratheonpilled
areudirty
kianamaiart
dailybridgerton
annaxmalina