So this is what I did yesterday. Only road one ride, barely took pictures, but I got to spend the day with my family. And after all this stress this past week between my family and I, this was all I could really ask for. I’m hoping this is only the first of many times that I go to Disneyland this year and I’m hoping I get to go again with my family in June. #disneyland #disneycaliforniaadventures #fambam #kendiego #kendamasd #rootskendama
Am I really at that point in my life where I fucking hate everything about life ? Like… This isn’t even about me anymore. Ok, it is about me. But it’s about the wrong things about me. My life revolves around how much I fuck up my own life. Yeah, yeah, yeah, “why don’t you change your life around ?” “You complain about money ? Get a job. Complain about family ? You’re hypocritical for wanting to be a family man. You have this information ? It’s wrong, this is what’s actually right.” WELL FUCK ! If you’re gonna tell me to get a job, my subconscious will turn around and tell me I don’t need it. Every family isn’t perfect, matter of fact, mine has to be the most dysfunctional family or pretty damn fucking close. And if you’re gonna talk down to me about what I’ve heard or what I’ve learned and tell me this is how you “see it” or this is what YOU learned and make it seem like I didn’t learn correctly, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked your opinion anyway. I bet not even a 1/100th of my followers will read this, but I’m fucking sick of always being put down. I’m sick of always being the incompetent one. I have being the one that begs for money. Sure, some of those things can be fixed, but, for now, I am sick and tired of hearing so much shit from people and not getting anywhere with my life. If my life can just move on and progress rather than just sit at a stand still, that’d be fucking great. But no. So far, it seems my life has regressed and that it’s falling towards a downhill battle that I’m clearly losing. I’m really losing this fight so bad and it stresses me the fuck out to the point of wanting to chain smoke myself to death. I really don’t care about my health right now or my well being for that matter. But, that seems to be a main topic for me. “You got so fat. You look big. You need to lose weight.” And the fact that when I choose to be picky, I’m an idiot cuz I don’t wanna better myself or anything like that. I hate how it feels like the world is against me. The world shouldn’t be against me. But it is. My own family, my friends, they’re all against me. And it’s just not fair. They do the same shit I do. And yet, double standards finds it’s way to let me know that I’m wrong when I do it but they’re right when they do it. When will the world stop telling me what to do and let me decide that for myself ? It’s really all I’m asking for. I’m not asking for much but, apparently, I ask for way too much..
“I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak. And then suck my ex girlfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure she never comes up in our conversations. I’m going to be honest, I’m not really a love poet. In fact, every time I try to write about love my hands cramp… just to show me how painful love can be. And sometimes my pencils break, just to prove to me that every now and then love takes a little more work than you planned.
See I heard that love is blind so, I write all my poems in brail. And my poems are never actually finished because true love is endless. I always believed that real love is kind of like a super model before she’s air brushed; it’s pure and imperfect, just the way that God intended. See I’m going to be honest, I’m not a love poet. But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love I swear that my first poem… it would be about you.
About how I loved you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike: Scared… but reckless with no training wheels or elbow pads so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you. You see, I’m not really a love poet. But if I was I’d write about how I see your face in every cloud and your reflection in every window, you see I’ve written like a million poems hoping that somehow maybe someway you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me because if you were here, right now, I would massage your back until your skin sings songs that your lips don’t even know the words to.
Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name and you smile like the pacific ocean, I want to drink the sunlight in your skin. If I was a love poet, I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful, even on days when everything around you is ugly you see I’d write about your eyelashes and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink.
If I was a love poet I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture, every time I hear the vibration in your voice so whenever I see your name on the caller ID my heart, it plays hop scotch inside of my chest. Yo it climbs on to my ribs like monkey bars and I feel like a child all over again. I know this sounds strange but every now and then I pray that God somehow turns you back in to one of my ribs just so that I would never have to spend an entire day without you.
I swear, I’m not a love poet. But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love, my first poem it would be about you. And after all of that she was like, so how do you feel about me? And I said, put it like this: I want to be your ex boyfriend’s stunt man. I want to do everything that he never had the courage to do like… trust you.
I swear that when our lips touch I can taste the next sixty years of my life. And some days I want to swallow stacks of your pictures just so you can be a part of me for a little bit longer. If I could I would sample your smile and then I would let my heart beat, do the bass line, we would create the greatest love song of all time. Whenever, we stand next to each other, love I was the only one made for you and you can be at last my Etta James. I’ll be oh child when you’re in pain or you could be candy coated drops of rain even though it never rains in Southern California. And together, we could be music.
And when my friends ask if you’re my girlfriend, I’ll say no. She is my musician. And me… I’m her favorite song.”
Take 4 mins out of your time and listen. Truly Beautiful.
HAHAH !!! I SERIOUSLY GIGGLED OUT LOUD ! HAHAH ! THIS IS GREAT !
i’m living for this
Do this nigga really have a Nike tattoo in the middle of his brows like niggaaaa
HAHAH ! I had to listen to this like 7 times for me to get what he was saying.