10.10.11
8.10.11
At least three times a DAY
Seems to creep into our thoughts, our conversations and our regrets.
It doesn't have to. Life happened. Now live the rest before it passes you by.
7.10.11
Rick Ross paints pictures when he raps.
Yes, this big black fellow
With an oversized tatted body and gold chains as cliche as can be is the most precise, literate and elaborate artists when he raps.
Painting pictures and curving mountains as he poetically flows along with the beat.
I've discovered there are many rap styles,
The Preacher :
Telling the story in a way that applies the lesson to everyday life. (Nas, Common, Andre 300, Jay Z etc)
The Teacher : Breaking it down to you, so that you understand what is being said and feeling the emotion that comes along. (Wale, J.Cole, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Big Krit, Kanye West)
The Painter : Describing, things, people, feelings and places so elaborately you can do nothing but feel and be taken to where he is going, on his journey for how many bars (Nas, Rick Ross, Young Jeezy, Dom Kennedy, Theophilus London Wiz Khalifa)
6.10.11
3.10.11
I Tried Yoga Today
I'm feeling so balanced.
No, nothing is perfect
And my life is in constant progression
A carousel on steroids
Rocking my boat in unsteady winds
Everything is new
and nothing is ever the same
It's a refreshing novel experiment
Where the clouds change yet the season remains the same
A summery fall with wintery chills
Combining my weaknesses with strengths and mild thrills
I feel incomplete
I can't stay here
Nothing is permanent and that makes me content
This ever changing condition is the only re-assurement of my true progression
Where my yesterday determines my standards of tomorrow
My tomorrow is a step above my sorrows
and my present is the present of life lessons
Nothing can compare to the strenuous trial of growth and realizations
The tearing and burning of new cuts, abrasions and later the ripping off of band aids fastening to new skin
Oohing and awing at your youth and shaking the box to your future
Contemplating what it beholds
Ahhhhh
fresh air,
it must be the weather
the turning and churning of rapid winds
My palms outreached. my tendons limber
I'm at my best of coming attractions
Growing, leaping, hurdling
a construction site with wings
The good and the bad go hand in hand
Two widespread spans collecting and growing
I'm feeling so balanced.
No, nothing is perfect
And my life is in constant progression
A carousel on steroids
Rocking my boat in unsteady winds
Everything is new
and nothing is ever the same
It's a refreshing novel experiment
Where the clouds change yet the season remains the same
A summery fall with wintery chills
Combining my weaknesses with strengths and mild thrills
I feel incomplete
I can't stay here
Nothing is permanent and that makes me content
This ever changing condition is the only re-assurement of my true progression
Where my yesterday determines my standards of tomorrow
My tomorrow is a step above my sorrows
and my present is the present of life lessons
Nothing can compare to the strenuous trial of growth and realizations
The tearing and burning of new cuts, abrasions and later the ripping off of band aids fastening to new skin
Oohing and awing at your youth and shaking the box to your future
Contemplating what it beholds
Ahhhhh
fresh air,
it must be the weather
the turning and churning of rapid winds
My palms outreached. my tendons limber
I'm at my best of coming attractions
Growing, leaping, hurdling
a construction site with wings
The good and the bad go hand in hand
Two widespread spans collecting and growing
I'm feeling so balanced.
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