Transcribed freestyle. Early morning cipher.

Fatal dualities wreckless causality affect all reality. With my perception I can never lose. No need to bow to me. So much to prove. They pray for mercy. I forgive them for they know not what they do. Feel so alive, but they’d rather see a hearse on me. Break the spell just to put curse on me. Every time I’m better they try to worse on me. Confuse em all, delusional but don’t buy in to illusions. No need to purchase, here’s another verse on me. On the right track but the wrong train reverse on me. I’m hungry, I prey on food. Consistently constant changed to me dude. Conscious, considerably nautious from the fearfully cautious. Dim the lights, set the mood to address the elephant in the room. I stare at the moon as they’re consumed by gloom. Awaiting doom. Cries. Ignored. Falsely accused with word. Avoiding situations to admit wrong and confrontation. Scorn. Neglect. Bet, word is born. Another page turned, for everyone torn. Only God can judge me. The tree of life remains planted. Only love can budge me. Hate has their morals skewed and slanted. Relatively objective, lies are wrongly subjective. Stay focused on being me, my main directive. No need to tell ya life is naturally selective. Closed minds said it, take a view and set it, this jungle will eat you if you let it. Brains clouded before us, sins of our father’s forests. Stay armed with tools and machete. Survival of the careless and petty. Pick a nose or a bone. Better check on your tone. Every rose has its throne, coming up sidewalk cracks like where is my crown. Clowns cut through red tape and paint the cities and towns. Covering up superstitious writing. Their all just bricks in the wall when this nightmare is most frightening. Why are the dreams in which I’m dying so delighting. This mad world is cold and oh so enlightening. A friend to remember, I’m the wind in December, I’m use to people turning their back on me. Until you have something they want or need and as soon as I turn around they’re back on me. Don’t sleep or slack on me, and keep my name out yo mouth cause you don’t have the facts on me.

To take more, or not to take more. That is the question.


that random moment when you suddenly remember someone who is no longer in your life and it feels like a knife through the chest

No, I’m not ok. But I haven’t been ok since I was 11, maybe 12. I am still here though.
I’m still breathing. For me, sometimes, that will have to be enough

Clementine Von Radics (via unabashinglyme)

On Melancholy Hill


on melancholy hill // gorillaz

up on melancholy hill
there’s a plastic tree
are you here with me?
just looking out on the day of another dream