Don't ever let anything bring you down. After a good night's sleep, and somewhat of a very rough day yesterday, my heart held up strong. Feel the pain because it is worth it. Feel the pain because it gives your life and your emotions validity. Perhaps this is hard to express, but what I am trying to get across is the point that the feeling of pain and hardships in our life come solely from the feeling of beauty and greatness. I have heard tears by the thousand, I have heard the suffering of close ones, and felt their pain. But upon such feelings, I have come to realize that even then, I have found beauty. The end is never beautiful, the end is never appreciated, some try to run from it, others do all they can to avoid it, others look for it, but regardless, the end is necessary. Closure has come. And that is what we need.
First my apologies.
Perhaps I gave y'all the idea that
it was all spit without the gears
We aint about that shit
Words can leave you salivating
But sweat builds the fucking mountains
So don't ever forget that in a heartbeat
I could carry your dreams and forget I even did
You're swimming in it, but you can't even float
The irony of words is that they hold the strength of plans
Without the gunshot
You'll never be grand.
We can all aim high but precision does the talking
It's all too simple these days
With the chatter and spread of information
We're suddenly heroes and activists
But we haven't even blinked, the AC,
It's still running. It's near silence
but its not. The inaction,
It's deafening.
Heck I've gone mute,
I can't even rhyme shit
that could emphasize the prolonged
dream of a typeface, the letters were blank.
It was always that way,
It was always silent because at some point
We stop pinching ourselves and assume
that it was deserved…
Perhaps I gave y'all the idea that
it was all spit without the gears
We aint about that shit
Words can leave you salivating
But sweat builds the fucking mountains
So don't ever forget that in a heartbeat
I could carry your dreams and forget I even did
You're swimming in it, but you can't even float
The irony of words is that they hold the strength of plans
Without the gunshot
You'll never be grand.
We can all aim high but precision does the talking
It's all too simple these days
With the chatter and spread of information
We're suddenly heroes and activists
But we haven't even blinked, the AC,
It's still running. It's near silence
but its not. The inaction,
It's deafening.
Heck I've gone mute,
I can't even rhyme shit
that could emphasize the prolonged
dream of a typeface, the letters were blank.
It was always that way,
It was always silent because at some point
We stop pinching ourselves and assume
that it was deserved…
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