tres leches 

overdosed on self control

went to rehab, detox complete

desire’s high, can not tame

an appetite that yearns to crave

outermost masks cool as ice

median enjoys the void

sweet escape in the space between

beyond it all lives the rawest nature

the inner core quakes and beams

when the trinity is magnetized

self control can not be, naturally

best to flow into eruption

best to exhale and release the steam

fermented feels turn insatiable

refuse to let desires rest

when the trinity is magnetized

fear exists in a held breath

expression births realities sought

naive believe fate’s the only god

rewards to self root in declaration

let desire be the cause

 

 

 

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i’m fine, thanks. 

who knows how to feel?

who knows how to deal?

who is made to kill?

i just reach higher.

permanent resident in the sky.

another motherfucker cannot

tell me how to be.

mother earth is dying.

there is no denying.

why am i not crying?

the spirit and quantum

makes me see higher 

than than my eyes.

i take things day to day.

pray with every breath.

prepare for a reality 

of this world with nothing left. 

i say this all with love.

are you fine?

i’m fine.

may / 

Cooler than a cucumber / Flipped the pillow though / But there’s no need / Hands shaking when you touch there / You keep going / Windows run with water drops / Eyes are the windows to the soul / It’s a sun shower / Might not have noticed / On the other side of those 4 limbs / Haven’t seen you for some time / Was only warming up.
///
He said I smelled like earth / He asked where I was from / He felt Atlanta or Harlem. 

the stars still sparkle despite the mess we’ve made. dust can’t mask the truth. masks can’t hide the truth. beauty is meant to be seen despite the mess we’ve made. we are fickle creatures. we are afraid of the dark. we block the light. there are many reasons we are inferior. we make our fear superior. do we know what is more important than the mess we’ve made?

EXPERIENCE

He said he would be her diary
They were never friends
It was always complicated
She didn’t want to see it
He was always bitter
He knew he couldn’t keep her
He was jealous of the world
For that’s who she belonged to
He couldn’t match the stimulus
He couldn’t compete
He tried to make her despise it
He tried to confine her desires
He tried to end her curiosity
He tried to be her everything
He tried to be her home
He tried to be her world
He couldn’t fight the truth
She outgrew the home he made
He said he loved her
He said he wasn’t bitter
He said he was her friend
She wrote him everyday
He never replied
The pain of sharing her was heavy
He wanted her to fill his void
She wanted to show him love
She wanted to show him light
She wrote to him everyday
She wrote for him everyday
She wanted to share her world
She wanted him to be her friend
He never was her friend
He never knew how to love her
He only knew how to use her
She didn’t mind being used
She had so much to give
He didn’t want it on her terms
He didn’t want to wait
He didn’t want to love her
He only wanted to consume
She doesn’t write to him anymore
She doesn’t write for him anymore
She writes for herself
She writes for her world

=

Los Angeles is extremely unique, I’m supposing. I haven’t travelled to many U.S. cities as an adult but through referencing my experiences in Atlanta and New York, L.A. is a completely different beast. Yet, it’s just like every other place I’ve visited through a plethora of contradicts and paradoxes. Its integrated but yet segregated, progressive but blind, vast and divided, inspiring but depressing, healthy and also, very ill.

Right now, I’m staying with a few cousins in Inglewood. They’ve been super hospitable, fun, and understanding — so grateful for that. Down the street from their house is a diner that served me a bomb ass egg croissant sandwich for $3.50, which reminded my pallet what breakfast food tastes like without lime juice and chilies. The owner is a Cambodian man, who hasn’t seen his hometown since the 80s. He fled after the genocide during the 70s, which the country still hasn’t recovered from. Of course, he’s adapted to his new home. He speaks Spanish fluently. His diner was filled with Hispanic workers playing cards and talking shit. It felt great to show him recent photos I’ve taken of his hometown. It felt great to connect with a migrant who had experienced my native land more recently than I had and vice versa. I drop by sometimes on my walk to the train station. Its a nice walk. The train is pretty reliable and accessible. I’ve seen some wild shit on these trains though — especially the blue line. Kids openly begging for money to get high and getting a positive response, people doing bumps of cocaine, theft, belligerence, people smoking bowls. So, of course, there are some neighborhoods where the train has no route. These are the neighborhoods where the Bruce Willis grabs a smoothie, where tourists are far from plenty, and a ton of restaurants selling tasteless food that’s overpriced. Every now and then, the homeless has roamed their way into these communities, only to be bussed back downtown — the international home for the homeless. These dynamics are interesting to think about but far from surprising. Politics are hardly ever surprising.

Before I arrived, I thought that it was insanely wonderful that my drug of choice could be legally consumed in California — especially since this enjoyment almost landed me in legal trouble in Thailand. Martial law is no joke. Needless to say, I was stoked to get here and smoke weed without the paranoia but that shit is sooooo overrated. I’m being completely honest when I say that I’m not even that glad that it’s been medicinally legalized. For one, the weed sold in dispensaries that’s manufactured by Uncle Sam is fucking scary. That bad boy is way too potent and meant to basically paralyze you. I’d rather not. Also, now that it’s legal theres a culture that’s been created. Uncivil behavior has been normalized. There’s a fine line between social & personal responsibility and I think that the legalization of targets a group of people. It’s a sensitive topic but it’s almost like the crack epidemic in a way. I guess it’s just survival of the fittest though. I’ll just find the weed that was bred in the dirt and not a lab to get my feels.

As I get older and learn myself and gain more understanding about the nature of things, I settle on the idea that these paradoxes and contradicts give our world equilibrium. Although, everything seems to happen in extremes nowadays, it seems to be balanced. As negative energy might seem to be on the rise, positive energy is just a powerful to even out the paradigm shift. I don’t believe in this picturesque utopia of a world without hatred, destruction, corruption, and disease. I just have faith that no matter how sick, twisted, and fucked up this life may appear to be, there’s another energy out there fighting to combat the evils and ills. That’s basic science. Karma is a clever bitch. We work well together.

disgorge.ous

pry open my mouth. dig past my deep throat and expose my words before i swallow them. force yourself inside me and give these words life. expose them for what they really are without the fancy prose i hide behind often. sometimes i nearly choke because of the restraint. I’m holding back. make me release. make me submit. make me trust you. make me purge.