A Christmas Special no. 1


Nothing monetary could ever begin to canvas the love I feel for you. I don't know how else to tell you. So I'll write a list;

  1. Your beauty stuns and triggers an emotion of euphoria and envy, covered over vast lands of wonder. My insecurities of said beauty paints a vivid picture of infidelity and distrust to even begin to rationalize why you've agreed to share this part of your life with me. I'd rather believe that your interest was in to one of my closest relatives, rather than to believe your total interest and time was invested into me.
  2. You brilliance surprises me. It fills me with fury as for I'll never be the scholar you so effortlessly are. It fills me with joy that most your time and energy goes into your education and not fishing for likes on your most popular social network. And it baffles me when you don't realize your untapped potential, and when it's in danger. In the long run, your success, my investment, our genes need to be protected at all costs one of the many reasons I get upset when you don't realize that's in jeopardy. 
  3. Your body, made from the clay of the earth. Red, and smooth, yet the subtle rhythmic ripples that run through the most explicit parts paint a picture of growth and a road that I may never understand, therefore cannot simply "touch" you once excitement grows. 
  4. The aerodynamics of you cotton-blended hair, expounds on the bewitching ambiguity of your origins. Curves mimicking the winding roads taken to come to where I am now.
  5. Your personality gives me the freedom to become what I've always wanted to be, me. You give me the freedom of this macho man persona I no-longer fit. You make me feel like me again when the earth is trembling under me. The equalizer sent from God as true medication for my imbalance. 

My rose bud.



Three Letter Words.

Why? Another semester gone, depression sinks as inadequacy fills the boat as I try to handle the crashing waves life continuously tries to surround me by. Who? Gave them the right as anger builds and stores as the lies begin to eat me alive as I try to recover what once was. The anger seeps into surface of my skin like a disease as if it wasn't  radiating from the the core of this beautiful soul. Ask? Questions is the advice given after being driven in circles for years due to neglect and lack of competency, and ownership of ones actions. The, blame already given to me as I slip further from my ubiquitous future that can only be rescued if all parties took ownership of their wrong doings. Owe. The American govt. as I struggle to support myself, although I am not legally eligible to be an independent. Buy. More into the idea that the "American Dream" is a dated cookie-cutter vision only drawn for one type of man, later adapted through racial stereotypes being exploited for capital gain. 

Hatred for the opposite of me growing as no one attempted to help as my stride in this rigged race grows weary. 

Until the next episode.