HEELISH
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The great man
ANTAKALIPA
HEELISH
Feminine energy
I am not him
I am not him
I am not him,
it’s wrong that you compare me to him.
It’s not fair,
you claim you over him
yet you connected like an active sim.
I won’t do it,
I just won’t do it,
I’d much rather let you walk away.
It’s going to tear me apart
but I won’t let you lead me astray.
I am not him,
you have history and he taught you everything you know.
Your love was pure and as white as snow.
I could never taint the canvas you created with my dirty brush.
You were his girl and you were my crush.
Every time we locked eyes,
I just blushed,
emotions spiked,
time moved faster
and I felt I was rushed.
I could never give you what he did,
I’d be flushed.
I am not him,
he was your first serious boyfriend
while I was just a boy-friend.
What he did with you fills the deep end,
while I am busking in the sun and walking on land.
We two different people and a compromise is quicksand.
I won’t do it,
his shoes are too big to fill.
You were a virgin before him
and he taught you how to feel.
I am not having it like a promiscuous girl on the pill
cause,
you still rave about him like his paying the bill.
Nope,
I am not him,
you’re not ready to move on.
You holding up progress and your tears are a turn off.
I am not him,
it’s wrong that you compare me to him.
Your constant on and off
Makes my heart go dim.
Cookie Monster
Cookie Monster
I love cookies, num, num, num, num! I devour them to make you cum, cum, cum, cum! Oreos are my favorite, I like to lick what’s in between like a serpent to taste the air. Twist it into two to make it a pair, lick the white off to show some care and pound the black like you wouldn’t compare. I am a cookie connoisseur, I explore under hoods to locate the perfect spot, stick my tongue in to enter the lot, and abuse the inhabitant to send me to court. I am a master of the clit, they go bananas like split cause my tongue game is so lit. Cookies are my favorite, I am addicted, it’s like fame. Whether breakfast, lunch or dinner, it’s all the same. Sometimes I’ll eat them as a snack and hide the shame, different brands tend to cause pain, it’s viewed as infidelity and I am not vain. Truth be told, I can’t commit to one brand till I am old. Variety exists and different brands are sold, and so I am bold, eating all the cookies in my zone. Experimenting and licking everything like ice cream cones. Although I don’t want to be alone, I can’t let go of the different cones, they satisfy and give me pleasure, I won’t do it, they are apart of me like bones. I love different cookies, I spit on them before I eat them, to mark my territory so nobody else can eat them. Pink like strawberries, I taste all of my ladies. Kiss the lips to savior the taste, slow and smooth and never with haste. Make her ejaculate fluids like paste. Attention specialist, make her scream in overtime. Do it again the next time, spotless to remove the grime, just to prove this is my crime. I love cookies, num, num, num, num, I lick until you go numb, numb, numb, numb as long as your reciprocate and give me brain cause I’m so dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb.
Daddy Issues
Daddy Issues
She’s got daddy issues, she’s eager to please. Her daddy left when she was young and she has never been at peace. No masculine figure in her life, she sucks dick to appease. Rumor has it she blew the whole squad, got her on all fours like a quad. Insecure, void and empty, always looking for something to fill her, hard and phallic it fills her. Every man looking to fuck her, slut shame her. A pornstar in the making, her pubs are already trending, legs in the air but her confidence descending. That’s why she’s promiscuous cause every boy is an opportunity to get close to someone, she wants to be loved by someone, the attention validates her, it feels like she matters, reality sucks and confidence in tatters. So she’ll do whatever you like to please you, the pussy she will lease you, for free and include videos, knowing they will leak, her nudes are making rounds and are close to peak. Her self-worth is all yours to keep. She’s got daddy issues, I could get her to drop her panties and wrap her legs around my waist. Cum on her face or use protection to excrete the waste. A bit unstable, should come with a label. So easy and gullible, she thinks she’s unlovable, calls every man daddy. Men use her as a caddy, to store their seeds inside, only to contaminate the can and abandon the mission like a ban. She’s got daddy issues, easy to get her in the sack. Missionary style or blow out her back. Fuck her out in the deck, so everyone can see, issues deeper than a shipwreck at sea. She’s got daddy issues, her life is sad, you’ll need a tissue. All the men in her life are disappointments, the world is cold with no one to kiss you.
Gold diggers
Gold diggers
A man who has money is beauty for women just like how men look for beauty in women. Granted you wouldn’t marry a woman for her beauty but it sure helps. Money is attractive, money is intoxicating, it has the promise of fulfilling all your dreams. Visions of not having to struggle anymore, gracing balls wearing designer clothes burdened with sparkling diamonds that hang on your neck and wrists, driven in luxury and escorted by royalty. Which girl wouldn’t want to be Cinderella for a lifetime? This time the magic doesn’t dissipate, the clock keeps ticking, the fairy godmother on speed dial and the glass shoes keep on multiplying. Living in Mansions, walking on marble, oversighted by crystal chandeliers, swimming in heated pools and served by foreign butlers. There enters the Gold digger, the manifestation of every man’s fantasy. She represents a tunnel in the repressed subconscious mind. She fulfills you in every way you desire. She subjegates herself to you, granting you power. She soothes and fills what’s lacking in your life. She is your escape in a world were routine triumphs. She is exciting, new and forbidden, uses her body to make you yield into the temptation of her bosom. You can squeeze if you want to, that’s the whole point. She’s yours for a price. The esteem and prestige of being your wife, but no prenups. Also, she wants to be included in your will, a stake in the inheritance fund and half of everything you own and oh, she’ll get it all. Her cunning intelligence guarantees it. You are her gold mine and she’s not letting go. Unlike the typical woman who operates with the right hemisphere of her brain, she is a blend of both hemispheres, she is both feminine and masculine. She is not just a woman whose emotional and acts on her feelings, she thinks, she plans, uses reason and logic, she has drive, she is ambitious! You are the route to her Gucci and Louis Vuitton bags, bespoke designer clothes, red bottoms heels and summer vacations in Monaco.
It was difficult to defend against the Blitzkrieg attack because it enveloped the enemy and crushed it with great speed. It gave you no time to think, no space to move, you were crushed by the weight of the attack. The perfect gold digger is akin to a blitzkrieg attack. You’ll never see it coming, she will crush you and dispose of you faster than the speed of light. Great gold diggers will seduce you, play to the repressed qualities of your being, ascentuate their body features, lower the pitch of their voices, play the demsel in distress, regress to a childlike persona, dominate through passivity to sink their claws in, marry you for your money and then divorce you. They are the definition of deception and smokescreens, they disappear like an illusion, like a dream, like it never happened. After you it’s on to the next one. You have to admire gold diggers because they are ambitious, they are driven, they have will, they want a good life and you are a means to an end. Gold diggers have balls, what makes them great is their ability to tap into their masculine sides while maintaining their femininity. That ambition will get you everything in life. I would love to be a Hugh Hefner, a magnet for gold diggers. To be surrounded by young, hot, beautiful women and have the relationships be platonic and transactional, using my pool and walking around the house in nothing but their birthday suits, oh Hugh cracked the code, the Playboy Mansion is heaven!
Our tits, my son
Our tits, my son.
My son got born earlier in the morning and I am ecstatic. He is a gift from my ancestors and the Universe. I treasure him. He is my gold in a world that’s been digitized; valuable, tangible, priceless. It’s like falling in love for the first time, I am in la, la, land, heaven, a place of pure bliss devoid of the construct of time. I’ve never felt love quite like this, it’s like I am floating on butterflies through the clouds of the light blue sky. He makes me believe in miracles. There is a God, – he is proof, a blessing. I am thankful and grateful for this opportunity. I will teach him everything I know with an open heart and a lot of love. I will guide him. Help strengthen him to make sure he is the great man destiny intended. I’ll teach him about business and wealth creation. I was lucky I was broke and built an empire out of nothing. Being broke is experiencing your own mortality, it is being vulnerable and helpless to effect change or influence outside stimuli, that’s why I worked so hard to be rich, to have the illusion of immortality, to be invincible. You’ll be invincible from the start, girls are going to be sending you pictures captioned “you could tear this up”- I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll teach him about the importance of having an inner scorecard and not one based on external factors. Don’t claim to be anyone you’re not. Love yourself unconditionally. Respect everyone and beware of placing too much value on material things because they end up owning you, depriving you of your peace and happiness. When you say you are going to do something, do it, no excuses, be a man of your word my son. I’ll teach him about girls and women. True, they are an enigma and I don’t know much about their motivations and thought patterns. They are truly a strange species, unpredictable, highly volitile, sometimes unstable, frightening and devastating like a natural disaster. They are difficult to assess and understand, maybe they really are from Venus and us from Mars, it would certainly explain why it’s inhospitable for man; too much chaos presided, women can’t co-exist with one another and I don’t mean to boast but man is returning to Mars. Mars is a great place filled giant screens that showcase football and other sports daily, the home of Elon Musk, Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos, a place of sport cars and super sleek, fast Teslas, pool tables, infinite alcohol and drugs, no tough decisions, no responsibilities and no circumstances. A place of Goodfellas like Scorsese and De Niro but no death, just collaboration, a brotherhood and positive energy.
But in planet Earth, women are useful as you will soon experience. For one they register and process large quantities of data faster and more efficiently. This is important in the matters of life and death, you need a strong counsel. The trick is just to love and accept them as they are, don’t try to understand them or assert your will on them, understand that disaster might strike at anytime and accept reality for what it is – I think that’s what God intended. Just love them because even with all their uncertainties, they are the most valuable species in the whole Universe, they make life worthwhile, they are the nurturers of life. I’ll give you all the information I’ve attained from my interactions with them. I suggest you seek consultation from other wise men who will also share their experiences and knowledge, this will give you a more wholistic picture. I can’t guarantee concise data regarding women my son, no man can, we are from Mars and they are from Venus.
Of course, there’s this issue of the Oedipus Complex. I suspect there will be some hostility between me and you. You want to possess your mother (my woman) and you are rightly entitled to her. I won’t oppose you son, for the first few months, she is all yours. I will refrain from all acts of jealousy. I know you will appreciate those tits more than anything in the world. Your father is a genius, a visionary and I chose those tits for you. I qualified and discarded a lot of applicants for you to have those perfect tits. That’s my early gift to you because I love you so much. Enjoy them, take your time, don’t rush to get old, drive slow and enjoy the scenery and sensations. Those are our tits, my son, at least for now.
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Marisa Tomei
Marisa Tomei
A beautiful creature you are, Marisa Tomei, you light up the room with a smile, a man would go the extra mile to please you. Your beauty makes the orbit move slower, paralyzes like an epileptic with a fit, gives proof to the atheist of your existence, oh yes he exists, you are the proof. A beautiful work of art, talented beyond comprehension, you attract all of the attention and dispel of the tension. Marisa Tomei, you have grace like no other, poise that is regal and a laugh that it not legal. It violates my conscious mind and leaves it in tatters, after that I am weak, unable to speak, incapacitated. It is not of my own volition, your aura is too strong, it makes me act like a little boy and behavior that’s just wrong. Marisa Tomei, you are just my type, perfect in every way. I’ll love you now and forever and there’s nothing anybody can say. You moving at your own pace, living in your own place and winning your own race. Marisa Tomei, I can’t stop thinking about you, you run through my mind like marathon champion, for hours, for days, for months. I could day-dream about you all day, every day for the rest of my life. I love you. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.
Strap-on
Strap-on
I’ve got the real thing here, strap-on’s not necessary, have you clutching your fists, screaming your lungs out, child birth not necessary, avoiding the c-word but I know the section, cutting through the game to reveal that I am the technician. Dildos and vibrators also not listed, girl-on-girl is hot but scissoring is conceited. If you want penetration stay on your back or stay sitted, open your legs and I’ll send you into the abyss like you pitted. Strap-on’s are dumb besides I lick ice cream cones too, lick the top mercilessly to send you outta space, then parachute you back to earth cause this is your base. The G-spot is on the first floor at the back window. I can send my inhabitants if you are a widow. Another metaphor, what? Cake? I am cookie monster for heavens sakes. Give me eggs and I’ll butter her up to show you I can bake. Rising to the moment to stick my warm meat, while strap-on’s are cold like an empty seat. Strap-on’s and vibrators got no soul, while my creampie you can contain in a bowl. I’ve got the real thing here and it’s better than a strap-on, it’s warm, goes all night, can work at a moments notice and something you can rely on, different strokes means different tempos, a race you can bet on. Strap-on’s are ridiculous, vibrators and dildos too, I also suck like I came to lose, present your breasts and I’ll never choose, devour your whole body like an alcoholic with booze. Girl-on-girl hot but stupid with a strap-on, pussy tantalizing but a corpse with a strap-on, if your nigga a pussy with a Strap-on, get a real nigga with a dick you can slide on.
Second chance
Second chance
I satisfied 3 women this month, it’s been a good month. I worked hard, I deserve all the acclaim. Of course it could be hot air, women fake all the time. A woman friend of mine spilled the beans and notified me she was faking when we were together. All the moans and groans were an act, she was faking her orgasms. Worse is that I thought I gave a good account of myself, when she broke the news I was devastated because everything was predicated on that moment. It made me think of how many women were faking when were together. She doesn’t even want to give me another chance to redeem myself. She says it would be weird and would ruin our friendship. Disappointing analysis, when has sex ever ruined a good thing? Ironically, not having sex is what will ruin our relationship. Cause right now I am all insecure and I need some feedback, I know I could do better, time has elapsed and I have experience under my belt, the act of lovemaking has become an art, I could make her orgasm and it won’t be an act. I hate it, it’s like she’s got weight over me, she’s got control and power, says she was sparing my feelings and boosting my confidence, how emasculating is that? I’d rather she lay in bed a mute, at least I’d know I wasn’t doing shit. But the faking, the deception, that’s unforgivable! I feel like my whole life is a lie. Still I doubt it, I’d know if she were faking, I mean, what am I a moron? I know myself, I am industrious, I work hard, I don’t believe it, she sang high notes. Being stoic is good and all but women talk, the grapevine is a dangerous place for a bachelor. I don’t think I am crap but I need a second chance to redeem myself. I could do better, I need more raving reviews. We can make it transactional, it doesn’t need to mean anything, I am enlightened, I pay attention, I can deliver a cascade of orgasms, I can prove it, I have 3 happy reviews and it’s midway through the month. I need my second chance or we won’t survive as friends.
Live Feed
Live Feed
You will always find me at the table with pretty girls or the cool guys. When I walk in everyone is eager to give me a beer. Like “take one in the cooler, we are together”. Thanks mpinch, my throat was dry. Black Label, Heineken, Castle it’s all the same to me. But I prefer Corona, it’s lighter and I can cover more distance. To the stoners, I see you, I’ll be with you shortly, I got some stuff I got in the jungle that will make you wanna bless the good stuff, I got you, I am here, always the herb man, I should be spice. Ice cold charisma that will have reminencing ice, mixing Hennessy dry gin with no ice, take it straight to the head. When my nigga Stee pull up, it’s Convosier, Monkey Shoulder, Remy Martin, 48, Heiger or some stuff I’ve never had before. Bottles on bottles, everyone loves him, he’s a charismatic guy. VSOP on a typical Tuesday, Yea he’s a legend, respect. The great man on the credits, he is the greatest of all time. Critical analysis, I think the pals I drink with love me more than my church mates. Cause after a days work, I be drunk and out of my mind, I don’t have transport but my drinking buddies always find me on the road and deliver me to my doorstep. It’s different with my church mates, they just drive past me, it’s like I am invisible, they don’t care whether I make it home safely or not. A couple puffs of the hubbly and I feel light headed, I am dizzy, but the girls are here so what can I do, I keep puffying, hoping my clouds will get me to heaven. Thank you God for the experience. This is my live feed, having fun, drinking and smoking with beautiful girls. The tough guys who start up shit on the playground, we cowards nigga we just gon shoot you and kill you, ain’t nobody got time for that. You narcissistic niggas, you think everything is about you don’t you? Tough luck tonight. This is my live feed, chilling with beautiful girls, puffing hubbly.
antakalipa 