In Ponder, Real Life No Gimmicks, Thoughts for Consumption on March 4, 2011 at 14:28

I don’t write, merely to be read. I don’t speak, merely to be heard. And I don’t exist, merely to be seen. I want you to find deeper meaning in me.

I say so much without saying it.
And the unsaid, my facial expression portrays it.

I will never make it because to make it would indicate that I have gotten comfortable where I’m at. My journey shall never end at that. To me, making it is to keep going, otherwise you’ve given up without even knowing it. Simplistic shit.

I may not always tell the truth, but I don’t lie. And if I said I wasn’t there, best believe I have an alibi.

They say if you argue correctly, you’re never wrong.
I’m so on, even when I’m off.
Argumentative thought. Balance. Don’t fall off.
I only always give my best and that alone separates me from the rest.
I’m not cocky, I’m confident and the shit that comes out my mouth is so legit.
Come. Take a grasp hold of this.
Because “this shit right here, nigga” will make you lose it. If you ever even had it.

I want to be that writer that publishes tons of literature after death. Because I want you to feel me even when I’m dead. Tupac type of shit. Machiavelli.

That’s all I have to say, consider it said.


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