The mastermind, travels, faster than time, the subject matters of my inner laughter cracking my spine, I'm paralyzed from my pair of eyes down to my feet, I'm smiling wide so my style replies bon appetit, if I'm cynical, I sense my final spinal is vinyl, I'm head over, you're the Red Rover till I am over, wasn't sober but was detrimental, regiment spies, was somewhat wise cause I can't recognize my tribes, so decide, devise from the eyes that's open, to the scoping of a notion that will never be broken, higher hoping, is coping, these faster times, running tractors over Casper *******, MASTERMIND!

Words follow silence. Silence follows words. Words follow one another as numbers follows the other. Words can speak of silence, and silence gives us room to observe those words. Words can say a lot the less they're spoken; or sound vague, a lot of words said can be misunderstood; or sound vivid, both ways could be taken for granted. I admired you through silence and didn't want to be anywhere else. I cursed you out through my words and rushed you to get me to work. I told you that I love you for the first time since marrying you. I chose not to talk to you when you wanted me to and needed me to. Silence proves words mean nothing though words can make something out of nothing and allow communication to exist to help most understand why or how they mean nothing. I require detail when too little is said, but I get the main idea. Silence gave me space to find that the devil was in the details in those few words said when I read between the lines. I adore rappers that are the greatest storytellers, the words of other rappers gets lost in the mix, but both can have a problem with repeating themselves. I either know nothing about them or back at square one and a lot is to be desired. At the end of the day it's stupid to question silence, I already know what it is except I hate to accept it sometimes. Words can't explain it though they can speak of it, the only thing I'm left with is the space between my thoughts about it and the space that I'm left with when all is said and done. It's Silence, I was aware of it when I was silent but I used words to help it sound more interesting. I love them both in this collection of words that may be lost or understood, I call it the lost tapes, found at your leisure, enter or exit at your leisure, think it's the **** or not the ****, think I talk a lot of ****, or ain't saying **** at all. Everybody's **** stinks and this has me written all over it.

The little story with the case of many cartwheels, at the end of this, you will just know how my heart feels, clever I could call your steps but better if I told you hurtle, never took a while to introduce you to my social circle, I spoke to Urkel, with visions of The Color Purple, supervision of your own revisions can be hurtful, like I'm in the desert crying bout a raging waterfall, see my protocols stalled within the essence of my calls, so will y'all play ball when the goal falls, you can be short with your game tall, the fame falls when you take a look at the same closer, day by day you feel that way, changing your composure, with closures, you would think it's over, claiming that you're sober, a proven tactic, graphic, causing havoc, so I take it from exposure, but I highlight it, caring bout the need of being careful, staring at the rarest sense of fairness with despair full, the pull I've annulled turns to push down the stairwell, hi to the basement barrel, bye from the farewell, swears I beared embarrassed me, ask me if I fared well, the contradictions viciousness is one that only pairs hell, never with the heavens but these seven days I conflicted, talented at heart, torn apart, I was CRYPTIC GIFTED, proving why I shifted, but had lifted, you could call it mystic, scripted, though its unpredicted, this is how I lived it, with MY GIVINGS CONTRADICTED, pick it but would kick it, a ticket to be soon evicted.

Rich as the soil, my people rich as the soil, I want no dirt on my name, compared it to ***** in a bucket; so I don't want to stay in my community, I thrive with the people with hearts cold as concrete, no cookouts, at least there's no shootouts. My people lost in the sauce, I'm seasoned to drain these ***** ****** that taint my kids growth, no room for weeds to induce it. I'm rich as the soil, my people rich as the soil, until they know it, they're nutrient poor as the sand, you won't catch my kids at sand boxes; we'll be in gardens growing sweet potatoes and cabbages and poison it to savages.

Excitatory signals fizzes out to satisfactory aftertaste once madness finds motivation and passion to let it go, I fly kites as a pacifist, the wind compassed it to encompass constant effortless field of featherweights, I believe I'm from the feather that flocks with superhumans that possess such birds eye view while my critics eat crow, I am so-so fly, on this so called surface where most just watch the clouds go by and never go above and beyond, they **** and dunk while I shoot for the stars, a shooting star I can be- beyond the court where we appeal but let the dome govern our range, I'm such a gamechanger.

On the surface it seems that I don't take too much personal but my energy beneath is personified as a mad man. Does the mind play tricks or do I get in that man's way because I always have a logical explanation referring to human nature as to why it's not that man's day, I can't cry a river for him cause then my fluidity goes dry. Reserve brain fluid and chemicals for better chemistry, reacting only to a man that could never be taken out of his element, cause then the math is simple and I find no problem to second guess anything, although the feeling is growing inside that I've become caricatured on the surface. Who have I become?

Looking for the silver lining struck gold around the time the new year arrived with a new resolution that I will rush towards profiting prolifically, unapologetically, though not a copper thief this time. I take back the setbacks I placed many in cause now I find with greater power comes more responsibility to respond to. The midas touch I may possess but turning water into wine is my greatest aspiration that trumps any means of charisma I felt I had to flaunt. I attended a ball one night and felt that I was ready for the world but got anxious when the first challenge presented itself to feel honored to give the world to the President's daughter. I feel treated like a stepchild now plus I feel resentment towards my father figure, Mr.Washington who influenced me to think I never had enough to start with. So as I came with what I had, my resolution became infamous as the epic fail though I was great enough to find a place in the library of congress, take that father!

Simply put, as honest as this story is, I'd be a lie if I told you that this was easy to illustrate, partly due to memory, partly due to insecurity, I pick my poison to be mixed, play with fire cause I heal quickly but love to only **** with slow burn gars keeping years on my life though it poses a risk of suffering more. So recently I put down the grass and spend my time in the desert, plus this food desert helps with my other habit of bloating off dessert. So this detox has re-upped my openness to be a minimalist only for a while, abstinence is exercise also. I'm quicker to identify the things that **** you slowly, living and preparing for the future where our inventions might live faster than we do. I hope I'm wrong, at least I'm honest. I'd be a lie if I already said I was right, a little humility gave me the insight to see that lies come back to you in the future, and right now can dictate tomorrow. Can you see where I'm coming from? Can you see it?

Daily
Increase
Steady
Solace
Involving
Practice
Allaying
The
Ego

You can say my words are not intriguing, leaving on your own believing I was just as free but not proceeding, catch me at a hollow point, teething in my skin, see me at my first speech, breathing from within, said this air was always thin, defending pending sentiments attention mostly resents, with hints we just commenced to rinse in the fire, just expired prior to the liars coming higher so we dare for our desires, conspire with these tires making track marks stark though it's dark, would we ever park, only if we barfed, scarfs in the cold temperatures, these adventures pens a legend words heard, though it's slurred past the curve, observe, and just conserve your ligaments for any brought predicament, we're caught with our diligence belligerent, so our ignorance only brought us ways we can somewhat say, I GOT PAID TODAY, through deliverance.

Say, if I could look into the past and pick days in which to pick fights with, I'd feel my life was on the line in every one and come out a champion, be an expert with survival, only losing less than half those days and later have a rematch, eventually being feared by those days by which they never will return, and ones that try to will hesitate to test their odds shall they ever second guess my future days.