|
|||||||
 |
|
|
|||||
|
Webl Without Applause  What is your definition of the antonym of "commiserate"? Current mood:  cold.
winds gustin' I'm nothin' speck within the breeze soul buried next to the trees leaves covered composing beneath the compost without any ease not any sort of whiz, geez gangsta dreams amongst the straight and narrow steez life has no new lease my dear Lise... before I bereaved it, I believed it she’s sick, but I was never a cure no antidote, none needed love it or leave it still a mystery, still mystic so what was the mistake then? scattered flour, only half-baked no risk take-n and that’s how fate went quote me forever more, but I’m no raven stirred and somewhat shaken word is Bond, and this martyr-ini is late again bruised like gin, somewhat achin’ olives on a toothpick; garnish what I’m makin’ so what if I haven't I'm still some kind of laughing not guilty, no affidavit so they say that's how that day went... Current mood:  bitchy.
incomprehensible and to some, reprehensible I never said I was sensible but things aren't always set in stone, y'know? This? Check That? Check The other thing? Check also The things that enable me are all here. As I can't sleep, and am in the middle of A History of Violence, it strikes upon me to write again. Which is really a way for me to talk. Which in turn, is a way for me to express what it is that I think. Which too much of, as always happens but isn't necessarily always welcome, is the case. As I am wont to say of late, it's been a minute, LJ. I write semi-regularly here, just mostly in private. Let's see what that's been... Random rhymes as they come to mind (hah)? But of course. Ah, December 31st, a bunch of point-form notes for a blog entry I may or may never write. But the idea(s) seemed good at the time. Ah, December 1st was the last public entry. A re-post of what I wrote in my fantasy football league. Which I ended up winning. And while playing is fun, let it be known that winning makes the game often all that much better. At least once in a while is all I ask. So what's happened since then? A few Hip Hop Karaokes and an R 'n B Karaoke. A bevy of films with a bevy of good people. Good meals with good people. Some alone time when I need it. Not enough New Year's resolutions made, and even fewer adhered to. But as I've said in a tweet: Word of the day is 'inextricable'. Invariably, the same people, places, and themes seem to recur. Onto the next... That's not to say that change (GROWTH) can't and doesn't happen. I'm most certain that it does. Even if one clings to the notion of one's own self-image of a singular or multiple point(s) in time, that what is around you doesn't abide. Embrace or reject, regardless one has to ultimately accept. Avoidance is but a coping mechanism, it's never a solution. Sometimes this is okay, and at other times less so, but let's internet freestyle again. Fire up a beat, shall we? When the fuck did this whiskey hit me? Born a rascal, but I ain't Dizzee Wrench like Allen, gilding that Lily Watch me as I get silly Blinded to the truth, but I still see Nothing but a worm, I'm silky Chiffon, what the fuck am I on My fabric ain't elastic, no nylons My song is my song, can't let those that done wrong be bygone When I'm feeling mega, everything else is just a micron A better past and future, same things for which that I long Come at me, but know the consequences It ain't as though that this bro is gon be defenseless What's that I smell? Oh, that's the scent of me descending, rendering you senseless Short and stout, this is the tempest And I'mma end this Young Breezy and Jimmy "Preach" Graham reppin' the dirty-dirty South, you know they go HAM/ Dezzy and Roddy, they're part of the fam/ My team is the slaughterer, the Horde be the lambs left to my own devices, I do vices I try to be nice, yet still afloat with no life vest trying to pass this eye test making spectacles so damn susceptible to warm peepers on a pretty face says he who needs to be replaced self-scrutinized screw these guys soon we rise from the river, Phoenix wedged so deep, good cleavage love it, leave it my heart is leaking, seepage Some people sing, others draw or paint. Me, I write when it comes to relaxing, when the weather is conducive to such. --- From my parents' mortality, I've contemplated more of my own of late. That though "legacies" are on-going, the only things that are permanent are "landmarks". What I mean by that, is that the only thing that can withstand the dilution of memory and time, is something of more of an actual permeance. Things which can be archived, and looked back upon to a focal point of reference. The digital age (now) has made such archiving much easier. But somehow that's not enough. Moving pictures, (musical) records, and books, as they were my first loves, are what I hearken back to. And then shortly after, video games, film. And so it comes now, the question: what will your legacy be, Hao Lin, Lawrence? Will it be TV? Music, or the novel? Or will be it a game of sorts? Perhaps something shot on celluloid? Or might it be something just in the cloud(s). The everlasting ether that is t3h intarwebz... Current mood:  thoughtful.
I don't want to be heavy-handed so let's be candid this deal, it stinks, damn rancid listen, do you understand, kid? collusion is bullshit, and this reeks of it get this out of the outhouse yeah motherfucker, I'm getting loud now what the fuck do you make of it? I ain't a peon, what are you trying to put me on? that I can be played? sup player, let's get the games rolling yeah, I'm mad, M.A.D., that's where we're going I'm going all out, fuck the fallout let's air our grievances then, yeah, you're being called out |
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
