Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts


Beyonce X Flawless X Chinmamanda X Music Video

Beyonce does it right everytime.
I know one half of spectators are obsessed with Beyonce's album while the other half hates her guts in general (Illuminati this, overrated, blah, blah.). 
Listening to her album with a neutral listening palette I have considered "Flawless" as one of my favorite songs. Specifically the part in the song about women empowerment. Not only does it spell out Beyonce feeling slightly disrespected in the industry and being wonderfully and beautiful made like everyone else is but the assumed roles women are supposed to play in modern day society.

"We teach girls to shrink themselves...



VISIT: This cool blog and her first post about her inspiration



My energy drinks mimic me, I stay up hard at night
Thoughts running in and out but like my paranoid mind never growing tired
and my feelings grow calluses near the edges but the nicest comment could do fatal damage
And I watch time fly by without my carpet to fly along side it
My tears cried out so now I just sob with the restless
Mind tossing around, never settling so it could cover in the ratchet sheet of my scapegoat
Wondering slut of a mind passion and fruitful delay, I feel absorbed by my paranoid state of mind
I know it's dangerous acting without thinking but its freeing
My thighs burn with the incense of another winner
True, genuine and honest
even if the truth slaps me repeatedly in the face
Heart racing destiny pulling my eyes shut on the fact that this is it
Razor sharp ink strewn across my bloodied worries
The it withstanding a second round
anticipated yet i surrender too stuck on what other people would do I miss it
Ball between my legs I tumble and fall
Syllables fly out of my mouth but the anger does not tumble out after it
Im stuck with dirt intwined with my hair and emotions
Lost in the whirlwind of maturity and reconstructed by the mirror image of perfection.
Slowly combing out the dusty failures of mediocrity and brushing back the flaws of defective genes
I open my heart and grab a spare ball-point pen
Ready to think less and spit more fire.