The next bet. Quit, and too quick to fret. Beset to the many texts hecks. But everything is fine as the Sunshines. Kindness binds US. What's the fuss? I'll tell you while I have to ride the bus. The wounds pusses, never discusses the: Whys and Who? They just do!
And so can we.
When he listened to the song, it made him feel like writing. He couldn’t really explain it. It just did. And lighthearted shit, which he was totally adversed to. He was here to tell you. For real. Made him wanta vomick all over the place. Yech! But the strangest thing started to happen: he started reading the bullshit that he wrote while listening to this funky beat and found out, after rereading the shit, and rereading the shit again, that…it wasn’t half the fuck bad. Far be it. Solid even…
(I'm workin on it. Damn! Peace! More to come...)
Get on in. There's no sin or strife. Only life. Riding past the afterlife. On and on we go. Past the soul. Into another firmament meant to be Heaven not dissent. We're going to get by no matter the spry. No need to spy!
We're all going to be just fine...Sunshine!
Let’s take a long needed ride just you and me. Feeling free. Watching life go bye so easily. Never giving in to the phony acrimony. Oh no, we are one in harmony under this fine firmament, Heaven sent. Graciously: We…are...forever present!
What do you think? In pink? Maybe of a black ebony sink? The slink to the ink. Stinks to the high heavens me thinks.
In biblical understanding we were created to work this great garden. Somehow like always we strayed the course and here I asses be...
Bein a Trump supporter in the Black community is a hard motha fucka. Straight up! But cha see niggas are hardheaded motha fuckas! Been bred that way! And still in 2020 can't shake the shit! Uhm! Feel ashamed and shit because you know Trump should win hands down!
Biden (Snow Miser) will bring the Winter. Any GOTs fans? If yo tired black ass is tired now, just you wait...yo dogs gonna hurt for real subsequent to a Snow Miser presidency. Just remember the warning from GOTs:
"Winter's Coming!"
You want to fly...but you can't.
You want to ride and feel the breeze against your skin as you just ride.
You want to say, "Hi," to the various passersby.
You want to shake physical hands with your fellow Committed Americans.
You want to say goodbye, and die.
But you can't because...
...
You just want to be able to fall asleep in peace.
"Gonna get that Dodge Charger Hellcat Son!"
"Niggah? Word!"
"I don't play when it comes to dollas son! Oh, no!"
"Damn niggah I didn't know yo ass gotten like that."
"Shit Moms cooler than shit yo. She lettin' me stay here and shit until I work some shit out."
"Buyin a Hellcat? Shiiiit! Shut your motha fuckin mouth negro!"
(Nig...gas, please!)
I see a collective. Not solid in nature. More like...let's say... just matter. And with that matter it is not spheroid. Oh, no. I think we have tired of that ubiquitous absurdity. And this matter flows forth, in equal spread across infinitum plane...
She had a certain smell. Indecipherable. Inexplicable. Her own. And I started guessing I had a certain smell about me too unbeknownst to me, cause shit, I'm used to the damn smell. Been around it all of my goddamned fifty-five years old life. Plain and simple. We all have a certain primal smell. And she had hers. Quite intoxicating: one thousandsth parts booty juice, a dab of piss, two dashes of sweat maybe more, a hint of lavender... and do I detect a smidge of patchouli? Oil or spray? Uhm. I don't quite know, but definitely without infused, not from within. And that distinct umami of a pussy smell...
Quit playin! Pussies. Asses. Dicks and balls have smell. And I can definitely attest to the latter statement based on my sometimes sweaty, ugh, testicles and yes penis causing a tight crevice inside and outside of my drawls which in turn causes a slight irritation and moreover sweat pore combination which is adverse to a pleasant Biome...
Hope all is well My Dear Sweet Sistas and Brothas! Write atcha soon! Kay?
Peace! More to come...
