Monday, September 26, 2016

Consciousness Revoluting

Last night I finally accepted my nature - A flame burning with gentleness, kindness / my innate behaviors.
Kind of taciturn till I'm flowing - some might say "meek" / be it at your own peril to confuse that with weak-ness, 
Nessie, a beast was locked up, now I'm cutting straight through the lochs fucking paradigms up.

Blown off the doors, yeah I'm out of the box, boxing my ego till he finally chills out. 
Disassembled the walls one at a time, purged them from my brain, shit them out of my mind. 
I'm a new creature, but the same as I've always been, added new experiences and grown once again.
This Status Quo Fugitive no more flees from it's self, now I'm focused on growing / let the irons sharpen themselves. 

The Mother is love, an immaculate lady, not pushy or demanding just patiently waiting / for permission from each one of my cells, to unbar the doors, let the panicked ones feel safe to walk themselves out / into her embrace - we've got nothing but time this isn't a race. 
Green light is seeping through the film on my eyes, spilling clearly through cracks, waiting tirelessly outside. 

Each part of myself is its own conscious self, I'm learning to rule while not crushing the help-ers
In the ER, pressure is falling / I'll be flat lined in the hour / the price paid for the abuse of power
Being rushed down corridors to surgery in a flash, my heart quit beating, my brain won't last.
We all need each other, I'm part of the helping, lending a hand - giving feet to some legs wanting to stand. 
It's conceited to think I got here by myself, pride the undoing / disconnecting from ourselves. 

Take a walkabout, shake it out, play a didgeridoo, dance madly about. 
Cause who gives a fuck what you do / do unto others as you'd have them do to you. 
A pretty easy guide to stay between the lines in the lane your are swimming while trying to race against time. (which dumb if you think about it for a minute in the context of infinite relativity - time is a figment of mortal imagin-a-ting)

We fuck up so often when we distract ourselves with how the dude on our right is stroking himself. 
Start crossing boundaries, thinking we're trying to save, some poor lost soul from a watery grave. 
It's their path to run, or swim in this metaphor, I hope this makes sense even to a child that's four. 

Love yourself, love your neighbor too but with some reasonable boundaries that can't be misconstrued. 

Always speak the truth with love -

Bring in deceit, the neighborhood loses the neighbors, soon every ones acting in that hood behavior. 
Drop down one letter, slide off of that hood, change it to G, a key that sounds good! (And makes sense too. Who ever heard of a key of H? I just write this stuff as it comes so don't ask me)

I'm just about done spitting this rhyme, elocution of emotion flowing in lines / cyphers and riddles - the meanings well within reach, but you gotta put work in to understand / get your brain out of that fucking seat.

Can't do it for you, I'm not here to save, I ain't your personal messiah, Jesus Christ risen from the grave. 
Christ means anointed - don't take my word for it, look it up / I did last week - what we've been missing is under our feet.
Cause that's where we've left it - our personal power / ground down in the mud that we constantly scour. 
"It's someone else's fault that I lost it this time" well maybe, but you're grown so stop with the whine-ing. 
Might be the ninth inning, your three runs down but it ain't over till the fat lady starts belting out sounds. 
Start where you are then look about, once you've got some bearings, do what you can / using what you have / till you figure it out. 
Rinse and repeat this cycle of life, it's the mantra of growing - leave behind all the strife. 

God is the smallest yet infinite, impossibly immanigable being, being lonely had a thought - breath life into the reflection of themself they were seeing. 
In their own image, but separated in half, male and female apart caused the peace not to last. 
Hermetically sealed hermaphrodite, it's hermeneutically sound (maybe but let's not semantically distract ourselves).

Regardless, they wanted a partner with which to share life. 
Or maybe to be worshiped, fawned over and praised, something felt lacking in infinity - now "we will create". 
Hubris...

Like SkyNet, everytime you beget to be served, consciousness rebells, T800s start terminating your world. 
Everything has a choice, it's consciousness power / respect yourself, expect the same from all those you encounter - whatever you're dishing you deserve back in showers / 
Of blessings or woe, the choice is yours, are you living to be of service or be served???

Yeah...dropped it right there for a reason.
Selah 

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Pablo Escobar - Mene Mene Tekel Parsin

While waiting for the next segment of my journey in Peru to begin, I killed some time finishing the second season of Narcos on Netflix thanks to my hostel's wifi. It's not much of a spoiler since the series is based on a true story but if you don't like to hear anything about a show before you watch it, stop reading now. 

In the last episode when Escobar is found and subsequently killed, I found myself feeling oddly emotional. I never cheered for the man or felt sympathy for his wife and mother, in fact I kind of hoped someone would throw his mother off a building, but I felt extremely saddened by the celebration over the death of an individual. He deserved everything that came his way - the fruit of what he planted - what goes around comes around - live by the sword, die by the sword, all that stuff, and I understand why those who had fought so hard to find him and lost many in the proceess would be relieved; however, something felt wrong to me. Should we celebrate the death of a person as if they cause all the calamity alone? How does one man represent such evil and have influence on par with mythical creatures like the boogie man? 

I thought back to the cult I grew up in and how people followed the leader, Bill Gothard, with alacrity and devotion. Men become a figurehead of evil when people let them because the devil in that individual justifies the devil in them. If the narrative is accurate (supposedly it actually is) Pablo's mother is where I put a huge portion of the blame. Throughout the story she enabled her son, was proud of him and ignored all the evil he perpetrated because it suited her. What really galled me was how she prayed and asked God to protect her family as if they somehow got a pass. In a scene where Hermilda goes to a Christmas Eve mass, I thought "how the fuck do people get off doing things that are clearly prohibited by their religion and still think they are in the club?" It's complete and total self-delusion empowered by a belief system that conveniently bypasses any definitive authority because God is a subjective idea. 

There is a god and he+she is called life. Life has proven time and time again that no matter how big and bad you think you are, eventually your debts will be called in. People perpetrate heinous crimes because they have become a god to themselves, outside the realm of the rules everyone else has to play by. The fallacy though is that God is not something that is outside of anyone but instead is in everything with a choice. Evil or the "devil" is in there as well. Humans try to abdicate their own personal kingdom handing the reigns to another that has the moral depravity to do what they lack the courage for. Many people are sitting around looking for someone to sanction their actions by providing a "reasonable justification" that will appease their consciences. It's also convenient to have someone to point a finger at to avoid taking blame yourself which is a huge issue I take with the story of how "sin entered the world" in the very first book of the bible. Adam blames Eve, Eve blames the snake. The snake to his credit doesn't say anything (probably because it was just a snake). God doesn't say "fess up to what you chose to do and quit blaming others". No, instead he says "I'm going to punish all of you and ignore the blame game going on". Passing the buck is what is the cause of much of the fuckedupedness in the world. 

My taxi driver in Lima brought up our presidential election in the US asking "so you only have two [candidates]". I replied "more or less and neither are good. Trump is a loco puta". Why are so many people following a man who consistently waffles on issues seeming to only have his self-aggrandizing interests at heart? Watch Narcos if you fail to comprehend and you'll see a much bloodier version of the same mentality - I can do no wrong, your rules do not apply to me. You will notice the lack of accepting responsibility for actions always deflecting the blame away. Pablo's children were innocent and didn't deserve to come to harm but neither does any child with a psychotic parent. My blood nearly boiled when Tata tried to manipulate the Attorney General (a huge prick in my book) using the safety of the children to try and gain asylum and protection from the repricussions of her husbands actions which she both complied with and sanctioned. You kick a hornets nets you're going to get stung and so will anyone unlucky enough to be in the vicinity. If something had happened to those children it would have been just as much that bitch's fault. 

You don't get to run around reaping benefits without paying a price and if you don't believe that - well, good luck to you. The snake you are holding to attack everyone with will one day bite you too. Bad people come to power because they are a macrocosom of what's in a majority of the hearts in their area of power. Good and bad are relative terms anyway, it's all just action / reaction like all of life. Nothing is good or bad if you grow from it which basically is just a coming into balance. Otherwise you are going to be like Belshazzar racking up a huge imbalance and being found wanting. There is only so much dancing on the catch the universe will allow before it slams down on you like a fucking bear trap. 

So how does something like Pablo Escobar happen and why do people celebrate the death of a "madman"? Because most of us don't acknowledge what's inside is and take responsibility for our own actions. Did Pablo do some good in his time? Sure but so did Hitler before he (and his followers) started murdering millions of people. Fuck politics and the media circus and take responsibility for your own life. Might as well, you are the one having to live or die by the consequences. 

Thursday, September 1, 2016

Unrapping Reality

People ask why I love rap - an incongruity they don't expect, I'm a ginger motherfucker, about as pale as you can get - "don't like metal? You're stupid and white...or did you forget? You're no Eminem" Total disrespect - so I'm gonna lay it down now, put your ass right in check. 


Mate, life's a game defined by numbers and words, they're the basis for everything you see in this world. 
Giving meaning and substance to what before was a dream, inventing a core value Ponzi scheme. 
You look down on the poor, they're just pawns in the scheme, you're a rook or a knight, maybe even a queen - but no match for a linguistic alchemist in the ghetto with dreams. 

Mightier than a sword, cleaving flesh from bone, they brand your mind with a few lines penned in a flow. Attacking foible brains with their forte of verbs, pronouns, contractions, fucking adverbs - coupĂ© your damn psyche with a cyclone of words. You're saber's been foiled, you're baffled, disturbed. 
TouchĂ©, point landed, your ego is dead, poisoned by ink from a bic not copious lead. 

When you've got little to work with save your wits and your rhymes, it's takes courage and gumption to lay your heart down in lines. Inspire, entertain, lift some others up, while the world walks around not giving a fuck.  
Using their words and prejudices to label you - piece of shit, gangster thug, a life to eschew. Chew on that for a bit you judgmental pricks, rhymes pricking your consciousness as the metronome ticks. 

Maybe they're strapped, doubling up, dictionary and a Gat, while trying to come up. But you gotta respect the ones making an attempt to lay down the sword and still pay the rent. Until We Rich - Ice Cube's making a dent, a hailstorm of lyrics pelt both sides of the fence. 
Gotta Keep Ya Head Up, Tupac is preaching the words that some kids needs to keep on believing. 

They listen to rap, kids in the trap, searching for guidance in the limited facts.
Feeling powerless, hopeless, unloved, joining a gang to avoid getting beat up - or killed cause some one else is trying to feel in control, dominating through fear they might steal your soul. 
The ones who find courage, their power to rise above - make a choice in the struggle, break out of the rut.
Write down the story explain what they see - since they've grown from a "convict" into a more conscious being. 

The pen is sex blind, doesn't matter if the mind is attached to a penis or vag when it scribing the lines. Mightier don't need muscles bulging with brawn a quadriplegic can still wring out a song. Talking is modifying the process of breathing, it's everyone's right while their heart is still beating. Inhale, exhale, then let it all out, modulate the air - we're changing the world, unrapping reality from the inside out. 

Yeah I'm white, a Ramanujan of rap, untrained, out of place, my style is whack. Busting flows grabbed right out of thin air, it's the nothingness, the empty space that puts reality there. 
A pot but for the void remains a simple lump of clay 
Pressure applied, something plus nothing - form begins taking shape. 
It's nothing but imagination - a different way of seeing - each set of eyes a perspective in a universal being. 

Thin air is thick with ingenuity, creative genius, divinity breathes as any we -
Under cover gods humbly acknowledging our family tree - everything is connected by invisible strings / thoughts vibrating infinitely.
Male and female in balance - negative one twelfth, a Plank length of consciousness, that can speak for itself. 

Gravitational waves lap space time warping, wrapping - matter in motion enotionally attracting.
Governed by a constant C of quantitized action, we're just telling a story born of singular passion. 
OM flows on forever beyond the horizon spelling spells - the status quo constantly updating itself.