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A martial artist stretches his body neglecting his mind. Persisting on with the tombs. Let him know the attributes of the women he’s touched. Does he feel the truth under his jaw? Closets are opened and cats throw balls. Hi. Lol.

A tree grows in Brooklyn, but does anybody see it?

Congested he concentrates the ambient energy to his large joints. The stagnant air does not grow stale. The air wants to flow. And brush across the grasses. The sorghum grows in Africa. The vitality is pressured. It is all there. Wanting to spread. Air food vitality. It seems the kidney leads the heart. And the lungs lead the kidney. Breathe in breathe out. Avoid excess as you would deficiency.

Congested qi in kidney. What to do? Everybody looks to the future or the past. Never really looking at what we now have. Satisfaction we all want it fast. Never really willing to wait for the cycles of life to come back around to the opportune time. Where the sickness started it must be cured. All things aren’t possible. Only at the right times. You make the wrong decision and your dream may be over. A door may close that may never reopen. You cheat and you reap the consequence. Time may never be reversed. A personal command must be obeyed. Even in the most impossible situation you most push forward. Modify. Readjust and destroy the evil Buddha.

owl1325:

I think anyone that shows off his or her “skills” is not really as good as he or she claims to be.

There’s a big difference between unnecessarily showing off and practicing diligently; I mean showing off as in “look at how good I am,” or “I’m better than you.” As soon as you adopt that mindset, you’ve lost.

Holy Bible. I feel ashamed how you’ve been misunderstood. You’ve given us the wood but no one knows how to build the building the way they should. Killing. Rampant murder and sinning. What’s crooked can’t be made straight. I read that in Ecclesiastes around chapter 8. The human experience has been mutilated, transformed in to something unnatural, and adulterated. I can walk away from a spiritual lifestyle, bastardized, in effect, because it forsook its Father. Unpunished. But I fall to my knees. Giving up. It is not my battle.

Writing rhymes over raps. Holding on for daps in the future. Searching for a root. My studies teach it needs to be developed. My thoughts are enveloped in paper written in a letter that I will send in three days. I hope there are at least three ways to freedom. I look at the beads around my neck. I think of a child’s pecks. Innocent. Reminiscent of a time where my imagination dominated my understanding of reality. I realize equality is geometric a mathematical understanding logical but unnatural. Or beyond natural. Supernatural.

Writing rhymes over jazz times like this will pass I look into the glass it’s a mirror. The picture could be clearer I swear. I look at my tough curly hair. I bear my soul bare. Naked as a baby. Primal as a bear who walks through the forest lately. An essence. A convalescence. A reference to things unknown and other things misunderstood a growing mentality. I wonder if empiricism equals reality. In actuality if it did, looking in mirrors would be a solution to our brutality, but there is no mirror clear enough. Sentimentalities are senseless. The defender is defenseless. The truth. I’m done.

Cars roll by
I’m trying to think of new ways to stay fly.
Like plans in the sky
Or a helicopter
Flying from the hospital
My mind is on my dreams
I think my mind has been in screams.
Looking at the beams of light
in the night