I speak the
truth, there are those that take it with a grain of salt, it’s honestly the way
I talk, though words are never catching fault. Pronunciation and exploitation
along with the way different people phrase and say them, turn words into a
sexual type of thing. For example, “I’m going to kill myself but maybe browse
the holy book of psalms and maybe I’ll just heal thyself and spread this luck
of potential wealth or turn a fucking phrase or two and wind up back at the
gates of hell.” Words are poetic, a little hectic; they provide rhyme and
reason or sometimes just some info to get you from that to this. Words can keep
you guessing but there’s always a twist: Jack was nimble and he was quick,
there was a Cat in a Hat, and Wayne Brady threatened to choke a bitch. This
girl with an accent simply asked me a question causing me to turn brainless for
just a few seconds. My brain sits intoxicated as it thinks of the many places
that I have vividly contemplated, it really is quite amazing. And she is quite
amazing, not someone in particular but as a whole, the female race. Just filled
with wonderment and astonishment, something we can all admire, each writing
their own fears and dreams and being able to publish it. See, words aren’t just
in books and poems or the cover of a magazine. Words are beauty and art and
everything we envision them to be. Words are powerful and magical. You can
destroy planets and yet build universes with them. That’s why I write because
words are beautiful and hurtful. They can be anything you want them to be.
I see shades of rap music in ur works.....dats wat i call em. I read em too
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