Winning
It’s the same process,
winning is a state of being!
We never stop,
we keep going,
we keep pushing,
we keep delivering.
It’s the same thing everyday,
it’s effortless.
I am the greatest of all time.
No excuses,
if you need me,
you’ll find me at the top of the mountain.
I am on God mode,
Acknowledge Me!
I am only going to get better and better,
Winning is what I do best.
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Be weird
Be weird, do strange things, follow your heart, never let anybody surpress who you are. We all have that inner voice, that inner guide, channeling us to who we truly are. This voice manifests itself in these eccentricities that make us stand out like a nail that needs to be hammered in. The world hates anything that stands out, something that’s different, that’s why we are indoctrinated into a system that teaches us to think the same, to be the same. The conditioning is so deep its starts from when we children at school. We wear uniforms that make us look like everybody else, we follow these social constructs that enable mobilization and control, we shame anything that is different, we follow the curriculum, we weed out individuality and we reward complicity and fabricated standards that cater to the majority. It continues up until adulthood and in the process we lose who we are. We become one dimensional. We are trapped in a loop, we do the same things over and over again. We want the same things. Our dreams get sucked out from our bodies like liposuction. The magic from under our feet dissipates and we stop looking at the world with novelty. We stop trusting ourselves and following our intinuations. We lose our wonder of the world. We die at a faster rate. We lose the fire in our belly. Enthusiasm wanes and the lens of our lives becomes dull and larthagic. We forget who we are. We learn to hate ourselves and the lives we lead. Why do you want to fit into a standard when you are already a standard? We forget the magnificence of life and the miracle it is. A one size fits all approach begins to define us. I say fuck boxes and standards, I am gonna do me. If you don’t like it tough, go jump off a bridge. No one is going to tell me who I should be. The only authority figure in my life is me. Maybe my style is foreign to you, maybe my mannerisms offend you, to that I say go suck a dick my good man. I ain’t changing for you. It’s either you love me or leave me alone and if you don’t feel my style, you don’t exist to me – poof be gone!
I advocate two words that will change your life, words that will enhance the quality of your life and lead to a life of authencity. Be weird, do different things, combine combinations, see different patterns, do crazy stuff, be an outcast, risk ridicule. Be weird, be the minority, embrace being laughed at, risk failure, be unsafe, try out different colors, be unexpected, be prepared to offend. Be weird, no one has to understand, let your inner voice guide you, have the spirit of a child, see magic in the world, see novelty in everything, be inquisitive, draw inspiration from everything, sway away from being normal, be weird. Don’t be afraid of being who you truly are.
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Toxic love
I love you because you make me suffer. What would I do without your bruises that color me black and blue like police sirens illuminating the troubled corners of my life that keep me grounded and lacking an escape. Your toxic fumes are like lilac perfume, intoxicating mesmerizing and disguised in a costume. Your love is like a fire that consumes, decomposing my troubled past like corpses that have never been exhumed. I love the penicillin apologies that make the pain go away, numb like anesthesia it gives me a blackout and I forget everything and return to your warm embrace. You are the route to my soul, the navigation that leads to all, a single glance in winter and I can never forget your face. Cold and distant your demeanor, loud and bashful, you defeat her. I love you because you make me suffer. Your love to my heart is like burning Sulphur, excruciating and burdensome but worthwhile and satisfying because it makes me feel. I can’t live without you, you are my Achilles heel.
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Liquor & Poor Judgment
I could get my way with liquor and poor judgment, sure she’s hot and my chances with her are slim but what if I disguised the date as an undertaking of two colleagues getting together after work for another project, a side hustle, an opportunity to generate something, make it worthwhile for her, concoct something that will pique her interest. What exactly? I am not sure, I am not exactly a ladies man and their interests are foreign to me. I hypothesize a free meal will interest her, it’s biological, we all get hungry. Maybe I play the long game, buy her lunch on occasion, make her comfortable around me and associate food with me. A little operant conditioning never hurt anybody and I wouldn’t have to sustain it, it’s only until I get my way. You know what they say, food is the way to a girls heart. Or is it vice versa? Well, who cares? If I move just right I can get her to dinner. I am a decent guy, then maybe we talking and exchanging interests. Maybe we get to our common interests and discuss our future. With liquor and bad judgment we laughing and touchy touchy, maybe it leads to a kiss, who knows? The end result could be coitus.
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Insignificant
I know I am insignificant, scum, a cockroach, unworthy, tainted, contaminated and rotten to the core. I am a virus that spreads like a cancerous cell to devour the very essence of your existence. I live to consume and leave nothing of substance. I am a plague that wipes out life. I add nothing, I contribute suffering, I am nothing. I am a bad man, I would decapitate your head from your shoulders if I had the chance, for the fun of it, just because I would, because I was bored, because of the power I have over you. I find it difficult to condemn slavery because I have inhibitions to own and control you. If you were my slave, I’d have my way with you, I’d humiliate you, work you, break you, rape you, cut off your tougue to silence you and when I am done with you, just throw you in the nigger box. How’s God going to save you when his on my side? I am coming for the kikes and the kaffers too. If my bloodline was Aryan, I’d be your chief tormentor. More shots to the head and bigger gas chambers to accommodate you. Who’s going to stop me when I am God? Apartheid and segregation is justified, the kaffers will only taint our snow white skin. They are dangerous and as the chosen race, we must work to put them in their place. I understand the hate because I am a hateful person too. Why do good? How’s that going to benefit me? Don’t tell me about God. Don’t be naive. Where’s your proof? God is the last refuge of a man who doesn’t have any answers. If he exists, how do you justify the suffering? Why am I a pawn in this chess game? Why doesn’t God care about my dignity and pride? Why the humiliation and subjegation to unjustified violence? What about my honor and my humanity? Does this sound like divine providence to you? Maybe I am an animal and it’s time I played my role, killing all these white folks would make my life better. At least my family would be safe and live their lives without bondage. God is dead, his not coming out to save us. I must do this for us, for our survival, for the continuation and progression of our species. God doesn’t care about us and it should liberate us, all is permitted, there are no rules, it’s survival of the fittest. Kill everything in your way even if it’s lord Buddha or Jesus Christ himself. We are all insignificant. Time will bury us in history and we will all be forgotten. Being a humanitarian is a PR stunt, an attempt to control public perception, to deceive, to play God. All of life is a power struggle.
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The Will to win
If you want a thing bad enough
To go out and fight for it
Work day and night for it
Give up your time and your peace
And your sleep for it,
If only desire of it,
Makes you quite mad enough
Never to tire of it,
Makes you hold all other things tawdry
And cheap for it,
If life seems all empty
And useless without it
And all that you scheme
And you dream is about it,
If gladly you’ll sweat for it,
Fret for it, plan for it
Lose all your terror of God
Or man for it,
If you’ll simply go after that
Thing that you want
With all your capacity,
Strength and sagacity,
Faith, hope and confidence,
Stern pertinacity
If neither cold poverty
Famished and gaunt,
Nor sickness nor pain
Of body and brain
Can turn you away from
The thing that you want
If dogged and grim you
Besiege and beset it,
You’ll get it.
Berton Braley
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Every second
Every second, minute, breath, moment is a chance at creation. You just have to push yourself against the world. If you do it frequent enough with zeal, aggression, hunger, determination and a lot of effort cracks will emerge and then it’s easier from there onwards. At first the world will be this hard concrete wall erected on a skyscrapers foundation and you will run headfirst into the wall with no avail. You will feel that your efforts were in vain. You will be so wrong. It’s just operant conditioning – with the Universe as BF Skinner structuring and molding you for future greatness. You will know to wear a helmet next time. There’s only one rule in the Universe – don’t ever give up. Don’t you ever do it! You can rest for a minute and gather your thoughts but follow it up with a movement even if you crawl or roll – keep moving forward! The world is seduction and seduction occurs over a period of time. Take your time. The life of expedience is not the answer, pursue a life of meaning. The fundamental law of seduction is that your target, goal, victim should give you a tough time, it should reject you – that’s when you know that you have struck gold. Keep pushing forward and your goals will attract like a magnet. You are too good, keep on go farther, hero.
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Roll the dice by Charles Bukowski
If you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.
if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.
go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.
if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.
do it, do it, do it.
do it.
all the way
all the way.
you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, its
the only good fight
there is.
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Gone
They say you don’t know what you have gone till it’s gone, it’s true she’s gone. I was too slow chasing dreams and immortality. And now our future is dead, buried under my voices of rue. Come back, back, back. We were almost something special and magical like the pyramids of Egypt. But you could still mummify us and bring us back to life like Isis. The queen of my heart. The story behind my art.
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Oscar
I remember when I played pool with Oscar, he humiliated me; white wash, he put all his balls in before my move. I will forever remember that day, he kept on putting in his balls and looking at me with a smug face. I was helpless, there was nothing I could do. But to be fair, I can only blame myself for that day. Oscar is a good guy, it wasn’t his intention to humiliate me, he just wanted to put me in line. Before him I didn’t even know how to play pool. After school, we would go to this cool pool place and just play. Oscar taught me everything, from the rules and holding the stick for maximum efficiency. I witnessed myself getting better every time we played. He was cool about everything, his intention was not on beating me but rather on having fun. Then one day we were playing, at this time I could hold the stick and I knew my angles and I beat him. But my win was suspect, I had 2 balls left and a black ball. He still had like 4 balls left. I put in one ball and was left with 1 ball and a black ball. I put in the black ball first and then put in my last ball. He kept on saying I lost because the black ball goes in last and my response was, “what’s the use I put them all in, while wena you still have 4 balls on the table”. I told him with 2 balls left, it’s my choice which ball I put in first. That response seemed to anger him because I didn’t listen, but he didn’t lash out. To his credit, he relented and gave me my false win. Still he didn’t like my arrogance. For two weeks, all he heard was how I “dominated” him at pool. When he requested we play again, I didn’t oblige him. Even though the win was suspect, it was all I had on him. It was the case of the student beating the master and I milked that for all I could. Through clever maneuvering, patience and playing to my ego he got his rematch 3 months later. It felt like an ambush. He let me break play and what followed was a bloodbath. I had never seen him so focused. His balls just kept on going in, towards his last balls, he was dancing, laughing and having a good time. I lost my cool and left him at the pool place. He didn’t even let me put in 1 ball. At least balance was restored again, he was superior again and I never played pool with him ever again.
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