To lose inspiration...

Just as quickly as inspiration can come it can go. Happens to me all the time yesterday being the most recent. It's not necessarily a bad thing, I know why I lost the inspiration to write what I had planned to I just wonder if it will come back (it will) and when...

Started off nicely just faded in a major way. More long walks should provide the ammunition I'm looking for, though I have had a lot of questions arising spurning from this morning alone. Today has been so empty...



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 -/Rebel2Society\-v(**)

To be Inspired

I love when something very small in the grand scheme of the day/week/month/year/etc. goes on to provide a wealth of inspiration for me and my mind. Maybe I'll post what "inspired"work looks like later. Regardless.

*thank you*


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 -/Rebel2Society\-v(**)

Dumb People

Mind all Meth addict.



*I mean come on it sounds dumb*


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 -/Rebel2Society\-v(**)

Some wIErd Sh*t

 If its "I before E, except after C", WTF is up with weird?

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It's an example of the word defining itself literally.

as said by the Nahright comment writers...



*That is all*


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 -/Rebel2Society\-v(**)

I Need My sugar somethin Like THIS

He cooked for you? So, I cooked for you. Did you actually see him cook for you? That n1gga aint cook for you!



still looking for the perfect verse over a tight beat though... and her food gotta be delicious AND nutritious!



*Mos Def Knows*
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 -/Rebel2Society\-v(**)

If you can't tell me what you can't tell me...

Then you can't tell me NOTHING!

Definitely gonna let my dude Charles speak for me for a LONG TIME. Listen to this THEN tell me you wanna be my girl...

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Those that didn't listen are cut now. Those that listened and learned nothing just means we wouldn't work anyway. Those that listened and took something away from it we might be on the same page, if that's the case anythings possible. 

*I'm a heartbroken poet I'm supposed to be tough*

-nods

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   -/Rebel2Society\-v(**)

"No1 Man Should have all This Sour"

Told my pen I was still sour I was severing our bond, going to the keyboard she said 'hey hon' I'm thinking cool, a poem every hour. Dousing fire with randomly placed words seems absurd I heard once that flying through curves with the birds helps you spot a healthy herd. The like-minded folks secretly wishing the worst to get worse cause the reason behind what they spoke was stolen and replaced with a hearse. It gets darker, but take this as an attempt to remove the blades from my back, I feel used undeserving of that action, and that which is half a fraction of making no sense leaves me silent thinking of where my mind went. Probably with them in the wind backstabbing bastards. I lent a familiar description 2pac gave to me and squeezed tightly to those words. Which is to say I went my way before my high days with intense listening. Missing my own intensity dousing my own fires with broken logic. Cool if she got it, better than broken heart pieces from a flesh made locket. However mine are. Scoop them up into my pocket, toss the hammer that did the damage walking on feeling weak, love famished. Out of pocket.





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 -/Rebel2Society\-v(**)