Another late night, vibe sess. Creative flows are the best. Lately life feels like a gauntlet blowing like an obstacle course in the military’s basic training. Gaining? Still don’t fully know. Better than certain nothingness by staying the complete same. Not fighting for your convictions and being true blue, all the way, flipping lame. I promise I’m not spinning game, I don’t do faux news. I do real grooves, and try to cook, tho lately my attempts have me cryin’ the blues. It’s cool, and where I’m penning from I promise is not normally my creative place. This time of night I’m normally in outer space. Though I admit, it’s kinda gnarly, omitting and expressing, both art, and exit-ology. Trying to read lately has been a trip through futility, and the quickest way to kill the thrill in me, is yo day I’m good for nothing, lacking completely. I know, dorky, insecure, paranoia talk. Obsessed with mastery over something, I swear, social media is compulsive gambling for those of us who think we’re smart. Getting into warfare that’s without care. Stinks madly, our souls are starving, eating GMO holograms, and none named Jem. Set up, not gonna win. Channeling with our egos to won some argument a child in a broken home or a senior missing a home would want to slap us silly. Many of us are behaving sickly, and it’s putrid. Embarrassing, gotta own it and flip to heal our spirits and each other. Who else wants to enjoy all good things everlasting? It can be. Not just a dream. Whoa Nelly, my tacos tonight were fiyah, yeah, my ego won’t allow to say otherwise. My timeline and real life, jammin’ fighting spirits and nice, cool cats. Many of you guys are all that. Saddens were on.many different pages, being dealt different wages, tempted to fly to Vegas. Want a drink so bad, and a smoke. Resist and feel flyer on the other side….yeah my own thang. A nice swang. No suit is going cramp on my days. After the storm, we’ll sprout our gardens again six ways to Sunday. Wish I could have some of you over, then again it’s not time, my mind is not so right. Day dreamin’, night beamin’ talking in jazzy ways, having fun. One day seeing peeps we never thought would come again. Candy. Don’t be toxic, no feenin’ for likes or cyber hugs because real ones are better than drugs completeness is sweetness. Hopefully one day I’ll hear the creator express he is proud, instead of spinning my wheels being absorbed in my own maddening ideologues. Not afraid to see someone else being praises because I’ll be refreshed and full already. Being happy for us as a universal family. Turn on Paganini, and off Lil Uzi. I don’t think it’s perverse, I already hear Biggie ready to curse , crazy mumble jumble, bungles in a psycho jungle. Never thought I’d give Jethro Tull a rumble. Hope you guys are fully breathing, unlike Duncan Sheik, because as a buddy of mine once said, make believing is our own kind of deceiving. Pray, don’t give it away. Put up with, don’t scoff and spit. Make art, not pierce hearts with darts. Make love not war. Forgive, don’t keep score. Make relief, bathe in humility….don’t hold it in, and be detailed so arrogantly.