nothingness…

Ever wondered what empty feels like??

Ever prayed that you’d never find out??

Maybe tried showing sympathy to those who feel nothing.

Don’t because that’s where greatness is born. We’ll rise again. No, not you and I …. Me & I.

The problem comes when your kindness is mistaken for weakness.

When your efforts are applauded but you as a person actually hold no water. No value. They love the idea, but not you. Don’t twist that

It’s a pat on the back saying things will work out.

Will it?? Haha, don’t fool yourself.

They pat you like that to remind you, you’re lower.

You give that which was desired of you and more…. that’s the part, no not the best, but rather, the worst: when the world just takes. She’ll give you zero! A big one too!

Oh and the best part, they’ll never handle the monster they’ve created; and shamefully won’t even take responsibility.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not angry at the world: learn from me, don’t make one person your whole world. They leave with everything, even the nothingness isn’t yours.

But in this one world, you can still create another life, head up soldier.

Kick a weak man when his down; and within his self-found strength: that’s when you start to hate on him.

-Sadly, The world.

You don’t even deserve to understand this nothingness, may no person on this planet experience this. I’m selfish with my greatness haha!

It’s crappy, learn from it.

Not everyone can turn nothingness into greatness.

Yours truly,

A positive fucked gentleman.

Eazy-kid

Lately, I’ve kinda been on and off.

You can relate, because, it happens to all of us.

If you’re reading this, you’ve probably read these posts. I’m against the system in my own way, angry at the fact: that I’m a victim of circumstance.

So there’s no career…

No real weight being held by…..anything, really.

Paper thin-everything.

From dreams to hell; and then back to dreams. Yes, this life: is a hell on its own. A beautiful one I must admit!

A wise man, recently told me: this life I’m living, it isn’t real.

I think it’s unfortunate, that it took me over 22 years to notice this. There’s a bigger picture out there. More quality stuff. All this material shit: is just clogging up the good stuff.

These grey areas, these recurring feelings, this madness and most of all this weakness. This shits killing me and in my case it’s lasting a hell lot longer.

The despondency and complacency; two feelings I’ve never been related to have all of a sudden, become relatives. I’m arguing them, I’ve even become rude, I am trying, in this moment: I’m still losing.

….but I,

I have woken, I’ll do which is necessary and a little more, maybe even the extraordinary. Yes I’ve asked; I’ve begun to beg. Still nowhere far. Now I’m changing the set.

I’ll go outback, in the peace and loneliness; oh! Don’t feel me sorry I come from there… I’ll make it back.

The edge is greater than ever now, nothing to lose, everything to gain. Technically walking away with nothing is a tie and not a loss.

A system cannot defeat me, neither can it, you.

Buck up, kid! No one gives us shit. It’s cool, we get that. We’ll go out and build it.

And fuck you: gravy train mother f*ckers, that wanna hop on and claim respect.

It far from now, it’s a long way down. It gets dark too, oh twisty and bumpy. If this trip kills me, I tried and you should to.

Don’t bother if I’ll make it back, trust me man… they’ll know.

Who am I?? Nobody.

What am I doing?? Occupying a space.

Fuck me, you living life, all good, don’t need my advice.

A readers response to: is it love…??

This is my response to:

is it Love…??

Love is all about hearts and flowers for me. That childlike feeling inside my stomach that’s invoked every single time I see his name light up on the cracked screen of my phone. When I call him and it reads under his name ‘calling home’.

I can’t pin point the exact moment that I allowed myself to fall completely and hopelessly in love with him. Was it back in ’08 when I was his Island Partner thanks to his wild imagination during a phone call at three in the morning. Or maybe I gave my heart along when I handed him homemade black beaded bracelets during a street festival.

He says Love is overrated.

I receive posted gifts, hand written letters, surprise visits and kisses that are filled with passion. If love isn’t the driving force behind these acts, then whatever THIS is. I want it. He gives me hearts and flowers with every minute that goes by.

We aren’t the typical high school sweetheart kind of love affair. That’s too cliché for us. We the ‘go-through-life-together’ type. We get close to each other, sometimes too close, back off, only to find each other again. That’s our love story. We’ll always find each other. We’re the real-life Snow White and Prince Charming from Once Upon a Time.

Life wasn’t always so rosy. This beautiful gift called life almost knocks us down by attacking the one thing we treasure most: Trust. His imagination – outrageous imagination – randomly decides that I have the audacity to cheat on him. I give him no reason to believe that I’m not loyal. In fact, I choose to not text others because I believe my texts are exclusively his. It baffles me.

This relationship is everything I wanted. Everything I ever dreamed about. To me: It’s perfect. But he never wanted this. He’s ignoring his values to give me what I want. He’s settling.

This man, this handsome man, whom I love dearly happens to be my best friend. He brings orderly chaos to my sticky-noted-alphabetically-sorted life. He is my safety net that makes me want to challenge life’s circumstances

Maybe, just maybe He is my everything & nothing

Writing credits: Anonymous Reader.

city lights…

You know that saying: about the city being most beautiful with its empty streets and Icy winds at 3 am??

I can vouch for that.

I’m right in the heart of the city.

Literally, the heart.

As my younger cousin awaits his surgery; we await his recovery.

Normally, I’d complain about service delivery. Sometimes, even I think I’m becoming ungrateful, but, tonight. Tonight I found a different form of enticement.

Like every soft-spotted romantic: yeah, I rave about rainy Seattle at midnight.

Tonight though, I tasted a different midnight, more so, a different morning.

It’s the same city, but at 3 am, it’s another planet altogether.

Don’t sweat it, I’m not.

It’s not the: typical, dramatic, late night, against the fungal corridor walls of the hospital, No!

This kid’s going to be just fine.

Instead…

We were on a wooden bench, under a lamppost, you and I.

Not you, you!

Her! The one that consumes my every thought.

We sat there. Well the whole family did, but, when you come along: they all fade into the background, the setting around us.

I become one, with me, with you!

I don’t ever want to share you with thoughts of the world. You get all of me so I can have the one percent I always asked for.

Thankfully, you offer so much more.

Nevertheless, I’m done with you.

Leave me to wander. Like the lost soul, that I am.

There is this happy-house music, softly warming up the icy wind in the distance. You can hear it but you can barely hear it. It gets your legs going though, it’s African.

I desire that coffee, the cheap one, from a happy street vendor. The ones that usually have a lot more to say than hi! The type of simple-man that inspire the greatest character.

They instill within us, a part of themselves.

It’s the part where black leaves have become golden, the part where the cold wooden benches tell tales of heart break and others of love affairs, like you and I.

I’ve walked in.. and back out.

In, again!

Out, again.

He’s still okay. My family?? Not so much.

The worry still evident, hidden but evident ;like sugar in the depths of a coffee not stirred.

The night settles, a deeper shade, a quieter silence, a cooler breeze-it’s discomforting, but I love it; for it’s a city- a city at 3 am.

My thoughts run to my worries and problems; but oh! Oh this night entices me.

It offers something in return, it’s very little but it’s return. Like a good investor, a return is a return.

Better than worry.

It’s a tick!

Next to the list of beautiful creations in my head.

Well yes, it’s been ticked before. Yes, because of you. It’s been ticked again, this time, a city. A city that reminds me of you.

So powerful, so busy, so constructive, so sweet.

And as I walk along the paved paths, surrounded by tall trees, I find the other side.

Yet, so deep in the dark; so peaceful in the wind.

Yet….

So fucking beautiful.

is it love?

traditions..??

beliefs..??

granny’s tales..??

culture..??

romance..??

Love..?? – Yes that one; or so I believe.

Call it what you wish.

There’s just certain things in certain places that only certain people would die to do. I don’t think it’s dramatic, nor do I think it’s following. I do believe that it’s an art form within itself.

Do you wish on a shooting star?

Or are you a birthday cake type’a person?

Maybe.. you prefer the penny in the pond.

Or like me; every damn aircraft that rattles the tranquility out of the night sky.

City of Love? -Or not?.. Your call.

But! … She’s dying to lock the love inside. She wants to keep it. Forever

How many of these locks have actually kept people together..??

I’ll tell you: Zero!

People keep people together. Love, is a term; we use to describe this.

A full of crap term of you ask me.

What is love..?? HaHa! F*ck that!

What is keeping it together..??

Strength! That’s what. (Also the: “That’s what“, should be said like: Tony-Fucking-Montana; Scarface-vibes).

She likes it; you don’t, do it anyways. You like it; she doesn’t, avoid it anyways. You’re not hooked, No! You’re sacrificing for someone else. You’re risking for someone else.

If we keep playing it safe will we ever win?

Take the risk, go the extra mile, be romantic, chivalry still exists; because if not yourself than rather find happiness in the depths and darkness of another soul. Verily it is here where a greater satisfaction lies.

So we commit. We believe. We trust. We hope. We dream.

We scratched it, locked it and threw the damn keys away; because, We will only live once!

A memory over a regret.

Because, Her happiness, temporary or eternal; is worth more to you than your thoughts tomorrow at 2am.

It’s not weakness; it is rather a strength possessed by a finer few.

It’s so much more than a boring word called Love.

Why do you allow 4 letters to scare you huh? I mean 1 F*cking syllable. Come on.

Jump! I dare you!

…

…

…

maybe, you’ll wake in the fall.

maybe, the fall will indeed kill.

Or maybe, just maybe…

..when you fall, you’ll fly.

The Gift.

The Present.

“Surprise, Surprise! It’s not going how you want it to. Nevertheless, it’s going”

I keep thinking if there’s more quality stuff I could be doing in this free time; and now it’s become this “limited free time”.

It’s open but closed, haha! Go figure.

8 days before the rewrite!

8 days before fate will tell its story.

What will change?

I’ll be the same person, the same, all over, again! – Well maybe with a paper that means nothing. Really this paper shit and formalities mean nothing.

If you lucky, it’s entrance into the controlled system. Where people just like you, determine what’s your hour worth.

We living in tough times they say.

I think we are a slightly dramatic generation. A confused youth.

All out there, searching…

maybe I’m a DJ, maybe a pro sportsman, maybe a blogger, maybe I’ll create an app…. options: infinite. Efforts: limited.

There’s nothing wrong with this generation; but everything wrong with predecessors who don’t see greatness.

I guess they’ll never understand how someone earns cash on a couch.🤣

We all meant to be laborers. This is why big dreams are crushed. This is why Ferrari’s are childish.

Nevertheless, through this complacent and despondent time in my life, I’ve learnt the inner workings of the soul.

Giving before receiving.

Stop waiting for the world to pay up, you found it here! Start paying back. No matter how you do it. Do it!

Fathom…

Try to understand every perfect balance and calculated process; constantly taking place to give you a breath of air.

The ability to move a muscle.

So yeah, it’s terrible being chewed on. But, here we stand. Monday night, coffee and a cigarette; all without begging. Thank you.

Embracing your present, accepting who you are, giving thanks for the little you have; this will prepare your greatness. It is here, where character is built.

Change cannot present itself; whilst you try so hard to remain the same.

Embrace…

Porsche Macan Turbo

Some animals are more equal than others

Remember this?

George Orwell, yes it’s Animal farm.

I didn’t enjoy a bit of this but I had no choice! I was stuck with this for the entire senior year.

So being more equal got me this!

My neighbour rocks up!

Well, his got that awe to his presence too!

Don’t you want to drive?

-Of course I do!

However, I didn’t insist further. I continued waxing my beauty.

Now! He screams, while getting out of his car and heads home across the street.

Yes! That’s right.

My neighbour whom I haven’t seen for 4 weeks, who I meet occasionally left his Porsche idling on the road for a broke ass, nail biting, un-showered, haven’t shaved-in days, kid to go joy riding.

Behold, the drive!

I think having adjustable seat is a luxury, like no shit!

But having it happen by the push of a button is utter bullshit.

You just sit there aimlessly as your ass moves forward in a robotic motion to the end of time.

But nevertheless, Ray Ban Aviators, scruffy beard & no money.

Suspension hardened, sports mode active, exhaust noise loudest ( because, I’m here bitches!) & we are Go! Go! Go!

Interior: pretty much like the boxster GTS.

As high as I am, I can still feel the boxster within the Macan.

I got two kiddos riding with me: 7 & 11. Surprisingly giving me a layout of the fancy gadgets and buttons, it’s like we’re in a Learjet and this is the checklist🤣👻…

infotainment is brilliantly user-friendly, because iPhone connected. French Montana, for control.

Somewhere between adjusting the seat and pressing buttons we’re picked up X.

X, embraced Africa with sandals and shorts.

So I’m a car guy- which means I prefer stick. I love the spiking revs and crackling exhaust tones which the macan lacks.

Doing 60km/h in 3rd, I flick the lever, 2nd is achieved almost instantly and again, almost instantly my foot punched the metal.

There’s a split second of a delay before the nose raised and we were off to the moon.

But… this delay bothers me.

It’s not the gearbox. I call it a soccer mum safe pedal.

Considering the macan being a hot mamas ride. She could accidentally and purely out of anxiety push the pedal all the way and this delay just allows her to rectify this action from actually being processed. Especially at the school car queue.

However, being disappointed with this Isn’t the only thing.

Gearing down in order to speed up is totally not necessary especially anywhere between 4rth, 3rd & 2nd; there is a decent amount of horses to get you going and so the joys of a downshift are only experienced when slowing towards a stop.

I am impressed with its road holding, not for one moment do I feel less safe than when in a boxster.

I also hate when im supposedly in sports mode; if I take a tick too long to gear up it does it for me.

Really, this is annoying! BMW your 5series does the same shit!

This might change in sports plus! A mode, I’d dare not activate with the kiddo around.

This car bolts! Really for a soccer mum, maybe a touch too much.

I find fairly attractive, with the front end quite aggressive.

The seats! Oh!-they bother me. Too simple for a top spec car. Audis avants have great seats. (Well the RS range)

Other than all my complaints, it’s quiet, soft and fairly economical when it needs to be.

It’s sporty and aggressive when you want it to be.

It’s a good car.

I’ll drive it again, I’ll never buy one! I couldn’t afford to. If I could; I wouldn’t.

The poor tiger is confused, Porsche isn’t the only automaker to fall prey to this. In fact, most Germans; if not all are confused with the market.

One produces half a family car and every one competes.

E effort people. It’s innovation and technology. You’ve also sold out character and brilliance.

tomorrow…

The sixth occasion.

It’s the sixth time seeing her for the year.

It feels as if it’s the first time, ever!

Nevertheless, it’s rosy, you get it.

So we’re traveling, it’s dark out; no not pretty darkness. Trust me, it’s that horror one.

The wind is howling beneath the undercarriage, so noisy- I can barely hear the tyre friction. I don’t even believe we driving, I believe that we being blown away.

The trees fill up my window. Like tortured skeletons screaming for help. It’s a loud silence.

Occasionally there’s light from ahead, but it lights up nothing, nothing more than we can already see.

I’m the only sibling of four on my phone, well that’s because I’m writing this.

I’m not sure, if they scared or if they’re allowing this artistic evening to linger in their thoughts.

They want to hold onto this drive.

It’s a complete family. For once, in months. There’s no wars, we all at peace.

It’s beautiful, but tomorrow consumes my thoughts. It’s what makes this night scarier.

I would’ve grabbed death by the horns, unfortunately, now, I want to see another day- Another day with you.

Maybe, I’ve found what I always, silently searched for.

It’s a feeling of completion within.

I’m not done living, I’m just starting. The beauty is that: this time, I’ve started living with you.

Live to see another day

How do you know it’s right?

Yes! I asked it.

How do you know it’s right when you have no idea what you’re into?

There’s no comparison.🙆🏻‍♂️

Should there be one?🤔

Maybe, it’s true love. Or,
M
s, first love. I’ve become so attached; too attached.

Maybe, I should back off.

Or,

Maybe, not.

I don’t know.🤐

I’ve never been this close.👀

I’ve always shut people out.

Now, I’ve let her in, so much so, it scares me.

Maybe this time she’ll leave. It’ll be a punishment for what I’ve done to her. The fucking punishment- the end of me.It’s Karma!

I’m worried, I’ve lost myself.

I just want to be around her, next to her, with her… She’s all closed up.

She’s walking, or rather; wandering… I’m running here!

I’m done playing in the sand, building castles that can be blown away. Washed away! I seek flight. I want to take off!

I want her next to me.

Maybe, I’m asking for too much, too soon.

Reality check: I’ll never be a rockstar again!

I miss her!

Is it because, every-other person before her, filled my head with deceit?

After all, I am an over thinker.

Always creating these illusions.

Deceptions, maybe.

Maybe… she needs space!

Maybe, this is Love!

This is the teenage relationship I never had.

I’ve lost myself and I’m okay with that, but only to the point where she is herself.

If she’s lost I’m doomed!🖤

I’m no scruffy bearded, blue eyed, six packed, angel face playboy in a BMW.

In fact, I’m a nail biting, metallic, over-thinking, realist; with dreams bigger than life itself.

I’m realistic enough to know my dreams are too big! Make sense? Where she just wants: rainbows and unicorns; I’m desiring sky-scraping empires.

All she wants is the reachable goals and I’m trying to redefine goals.

Maybe, I’m not enough.

Maybe, I’m just too much.

Help me!!

Maybe…

Maybe…

cadillacs and dinosaurs.

Again, we sit, together.

All the dinosaurs, that is.

Whilst the cadillacs roam about, flaunting their Friday attire, to a crowd… A crowd less fortunate.

They’re superior because of knowledge, they’re not subtle about it either.

They make this known to you. Their eyes acting like windows to the soul. It tells, everything!

They walk about, here, as if they’ve created the system. Not realizing they’ve fallen prey to the same devils. They’re just on the higher levels of hell.

As I watch the happy, the talkative, the silent and the depressed. Again, it’s the people that helped build this world; that has been forced with struggle. I know they didn’t choose this.

Then, again, Who did ?

It’s unfortunate that the good souls have become the Dinosaurs.

It’s hurtful that this gentleman cannot speak today, he helped design and build a state of the art healthcare facility.

Today he is a dinosaur, in the sun, rotting away, in a wheelchair and worn out clothing; settling for healthcare of the system.

The system.

Oh! “The system has the best doctors” – they say.

Well tell them to watch the seniors who brought us here, get dropped off as if they’re excess fuel on a landing Boeing.

It’s terrible really.

We supposed to be growing and developing together.

However, the innocent is faced with the consequences of power hungry men.

This day, I pray.

May every innocent soul, who suffered this hell, be granted a paradise that the mind cannot fathom.

A gentleman, hunched, with a cane; can touch one soul.

A human, rotting in a chair, alone, can touch the fucking world.