Dahmer

Dahmer

Monsters lurk everywhere in the world and it’s hard to spot them. They have learned to camouflage themselves in the darkness, it engulfs and consumes them, blackening their souls turning them into shadows. Analytical Psychologist Carl Jung explains that human beings carry within themselves both elements of the good and bad, that we are both angels and demons, sick, demented, evil, dark, spoiled. Because we live in a world where we have to co-exist to survive, we surpress these undesirable qualities relegating them into the shadows. Unchecked the shadow can grow to consume our personality and rule our subconscious minds enabling us to act unconsciously. Our shadows can turn us into psychopaths who lack empathy and thrive on destruction. The shadow can enable the individual to be narcissistic, egoistic and maniacal. Shedding a light on our dark sides helps in controlling the shadow. Acknowledging you have a dark side keeps the shadow at bay. Life is a balance of both the good and bad, of the light and the darkness. We are both polar extremes of the same spectrum. You are a killer and a murderer, human nature says you are. You might find pleasure in murdering your brother in cold blood. Cain certainly did when he murdered his brother Able to spite God. The murder was premeditated, he felt no remorse, the action liberated him. I know I am bad, I am capable of savagery and genocide. I may even take pleasure in torturing and tormenting you to appease my dark side. Your suffering might even give me comfort. Am I another Jeffrey Dahmer? Would I drug you, strangle you to death, masterbate over your body, have sex with your unconscious body, dissect and sever your body parts, skin the flesh from your bones, cook and eat your body parts for dinner? The capacity for evil in a human being is unfathomable. Maybe I am not familiar with my own darkness. I don’t know what I might do to you in the right circumstances. The story of Jeffrey Dahmer haunts me because he did it time and time again. A serial killer with a death toll of 17. No one was safe, from boys aged 14 to adults aged 33. He butchered his victims, cut off their limbs, drilled holes in their skulls and injected hydrochloric acid, severed their heads and preserved them in the refrigerator, inserted the bones in the oven to burn them and then crushed them with his sledgehammer, he cut his victims into pieces and then boiled them, he cooked his victims and he ate them, he ate them! He used acid and other chemicals to burn the skin of his victims skulls to preserve them. He bleached the skulls and if they were too weak he pulverized them, some he kept and used when he was masterbating. He felt no remorse, it was a compulsion for him, he was conscious of his actions, he knew what he was doing, he wasn’t crazy or diagnosed with some sort of mental illness, he consciously experimented with his victims bodies in his own words to create zombies, he loved doing it, it was his vocation. I don’t want to believe that I am as wicked and evil as Dahmer but I know it’s possible. To deny this is to repress my own darkness and wickedness. To know I am capable of such darkness frightens me. I hope Jung and Freud have an answer for somebody like Dahmer. Maybe it is the ID out of control. Sigmund Freud explained that the ID is the seat of both the repressed material and the drives, to which had been added to the unconscious fantasies and unconscious feelings, notably guilt feelings. Expanding on this idea, Freud states that the mind is divided into 3; into what we call the ID, Ego and the Superego. The Superego is the watchful, judging, punishing agency in the individual. The ID is self-gratifying and amoral and the Ego is the middle ground of the two and strives to be moral. I don’t think Freud and Jung would understand an individual quite as complicated as Dahmer, to try and understand somebody like Dahmer is impossible. I mean he seduced and lured his victims to his place, drugged them, killed them, cut them and sat with the stench of their decomposing bodies. The smell was second nature to him. Sometimes psychology is not enough, perhaps this is a genetic thing, maybe his the exception in the family tree. When he was finally caught he didn’t resist, he was compliant and told the whole truth, every horrific detail, where he hid body parts, how many he had killed, the hearts, biceps, legs he ate, when the killing spree commenced – everything. He knew what he had done was evil and he asked for the death penalty that was not granted because it was banned in his State. He was accepting of who he was, he was not bothered, he was not haunted by ghosts and demons, he was not remorseful, he even had fans who corresponded with him in jail, fans who projected onto him their undesirable feelings, desires and fantasies and he reciprocated back that energy. Jeffrey Dahmer is your definitive example of a monster, he scares me. Maybe I am just scared of myself.

Toxic Love

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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Insignificant

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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Words are my superpower

Words are my superpower

Words are my superpower, I can write about anything and I’ll get an applause. I can write about dicks, pussy, murder, hate, Hitler, Putin, racism, slavery, love, sex, human nature, philosophy, psychology, self-actualization, business, finance, War, football and the Halocaust. Words are my superpower, I am superman with this shit, I overpower Kyrptonite with this shit. Superhuman strength that I carry the world in my pocket with this shit. I have become too good, dope like Marijuana baking words so high they hover over people’s consciousness. I dominate the poetry game, kill the Rap game and lecture story all the same. I am comedic and witty but also serious and intellectual. I am animalistic and beastly winning on my own like it’s not consentual. Words are my superpower, I have achieved mastery with this shit. Sure I could get even better but I am pretty fucken great with this shit. I am a content God, the best of the best like La Finalissima, no one is on my level like the laws of gravity don’t apply to me. Words are my superpower, I am number one, I am the winner. Yea, I said it, I am the shit like bowel movements after dinner. Winning like a fix, on your lips like a kiss, manhandling the wordle game like it were insane. Keep in your lane, I don’t care about your name, you all ridiculous to me, you’re all lame. Words are my superpower, I am Messi with this shit. What do you want an International trophy? I’ll get you Copa America with this shit. Words are my superpower, I took my time for all of this shit, labored for all this shit, sacrificed like Jesus for all of this shit and even if you crossed me I’ll come out tops cause I am a God of this shit. Acknowledge me now, save face, pretend you knew it from the start cause I am about spoil the ending I am the greatest of all time.

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The Narcissist II: mine

The narcissist II: mine

I ran into an old friend I used to attend school with. He was good, in great spirits, looked healthy but he wasn’t happy with how I looked. He said, “You are so thin, is that you? You are finished.” I replied “Yea, it is me.” I replied to his sentiment disregarding the content obviously happy to see him. We engaged in a bit of small talk until he came back to his main point “You are so thin, you are finished my brother”, we exchanged pleasantries and drifted off in different directions but his comments stayed with me. It was as if he were looking down on me, it was pity, a side of schadenfreude, he was in disbelief, I felt like a disgraced fallen soildier. A couple of days before, a friend told me I had lost weight and I agreed to his observations but I didn’t think it was that bad. You mean I put on weight just to lose it again? Plausible, I was stressed and neglecting my eating schedule. Did you hear the whispers? They say I am on drugs, nyaope. Oh no! But you don’t treat me like an addict, my skin is still glowing and your girl is still on my dick! So it must be slander, yet another dirty trick from the devil. It feels like I have tumbled to the bottom and no one respects me anymore. The latest comments got to me because it was an echo, one that was rampant because it was true and I knew it. I did lose weight. Things were not that good for me. I was broke. I was not happy. I suffered. Fighting for what I believed in and my dreams of the future has been hard. Would you believe in what you believed in even if you were the only one? It has been cold and I get no love from my immediate surroundings, just disappointments. Pangs of torment piecing through my skin on a daily signaling electrical currents to my brain to induce trauma and pain. It’s a recurring occurrence, people think they are superior to me because I am struggling to feed myself, some think they own me. It doesn’t help that I am sensitive, an empath, a magnet for narcissists. Lately it seems like they have the upper hand. They keep making proclamations like:

You are mine and I own you. I bought everything you eat and you swallow my essence. I am the reason you living a good life, I own you. Your friends loves me, your whole family, they all love me, what are you going to do, they all love me, I own you, you are mine. I own everything you see here including you, you are mine. I am the pulse that gives you life and I can make you flatline if I wanted to, I own you. Your hands behind your back, you are in bondage, to my whims, my needs and everything I desire because remember, I own you. You are mine to do what I like with. You may think you have rights but you are mine and I own you. Everything you touch, your clothes, the hair, the shoes, your happiness, all mine, I own you. Get that into your mind, you are nothing without me, I own you, I can make you suffer, I can make you cry, you are mine, I own you.

Nothing worthwhile comes easy so I thank you, I learned to rely on my own wits and less upon other people. I am better. I am stronger. I will fight ahead and when I win its going to be on my terms.

I am still here, the vision is still intact, I will bulk up weight, I am stronger and I will rule. Your victory was a fleeting experience, the War is mine. I play the long game and I always win. You are wrong. I never wavered, my eyes are still on the prize, you don’t own me. All the petty humiliations were child’s play. I shrugged off your insults like dirt on my shoulders. I forecasted all your conditions like the weather and so I was prepared. You couldn’t play me even if I were a piano. I saw your power plays and opted to stand idle. I’d rather be a spectator watching you make a fool of yourself. Give them the rope, they all hang themselves if it’s got leeway. I am a sentient being and freedom is a given. I’d rather be hungry and thin than succumb to your views about my life. I never listen to anything you say. I belong to God and I have the faith of a mustard seed. You might have the cards now, but the game goes on and the deck has to be reshuffled. An early lead doesn’t guarantee you the marathon win. I am not a title deed, I have never been yours even for a second. Your perceived superiority is all in your head. The Gaslighting won’t work, I know all the facts. You can never break me even if we were playing pool. Your worst nightmare is coming to fruition, I am everything you deemed and I don’t need you. My dreams are finally gaining traction and your perceived power waning. I am coming for everything and you will acknowledge me!

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I know

I know

I see all your pretensions and theatricalies,
staged with meticulous acting and false modesty,
masked in deceits that hide your true identity
like a VPN.
I know you’re a pretender.
A bystander.
I know you’re the one spreading rumors, tarnishing my name like a slander.

I know the humorous stories that you tell,
Mr. Comedian,
Kevin Hart,
“Laugh at my pain”,
I hear everyone is amused.
Why wouldn’t I be happy for you,
I am bemused.

My fingers are crossed like a Christian,
I hope you make it.
I love your crowd and how they reciprocating your energy,
you’re in sync like a Mexican wave.
Timid with your little skirts hiding in the cave.
Bitches!

I know you are intimidated by my greatness
and you pray for my downfall like a drought.
The sky is clear and I am still reigning.
I see your insincere smiles and back handed comments.
Moving and inhabiting my space like a comet.

You tell on yourself like a mirror
reflecting all your fears and insecurities.
You lack an inner campus and that’s just one of your propensities.
I know,
I reside in your mind rent free like a landlord, struggling to straighten me out like a phone cord, listen,
press record,
spoiler alert,
I win,
you might as well be reborn.
Bitches!

I know,
I know,
you worship the land I walk on.
Imitate my style
and would like my life for a mile.

I know,
I am everything you yearn to be.
I know I haunt your conscious reality.
I know you wanna be me.
Silence is not weakness,
I see everything like big brother,
trust me,
I know.

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Backstab me

Backstab me

You can’t Backstab me man,
I see you.

Even what you think I don’t know,
I see.

I saw you a long time ago.

The different smiles are all ingrained in my psyche.
Life isn’t about your senses,
that’s deception,
stay woke.

There’s a lot we don’t know and even that I know.
Slow down fella,
calm down,
I know.

I am amazing,
but control your emotions.

Just admire,
compliment
and let things be,
move along,
just a fabrication of reality.

You can’t Backstab me,
I have things sorted,
I am the best,
it takes the best to beat me.

Just know when I strike,
it’s game over.
No chance,
I wipe you out.

Let’s see how you play your cards.
Control yourself fella,
calm down,
let’s be professionals,
its okay,
we can let this discipate into the sparks of life.

But it’s still on record,
And I see you,
I remember.

You are not a friend,
You can’t Backstab me.

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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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Faith

Faith

If I could just see Faith just one last time. Yes, definitely in my top 5. I met her through a friend. Easily the greatest pass of all time. Thank you mpinch, I am eternally grateful. I really needed that pass. It was difficult with Faith. I never would have gotten that close to her without my boy. It was impossible. What made Faith a mission was the fact that she didn’t live in Gomora, she came here to visit her grandparents. She was a cheese-girl. She grew up here in Gomora and that’s how my boy knew her. When they were younger, they had this kids romance thing. I first saw Faith in 2010, I remember it was game day and Argentina was playing Nigeria. Argentina won courtesy of a Heinze header in the 6th minute. I wasn’t particularly impressed with that performance. Messi or Higuain didn’t score and I expected better. After the game I went out to get some air and there I saw her. It was as if time stopped for a while, everything proceeded in slow motion. It was like I was in a Scorsese movie looking at the girl of my dreams. She was absolutely perfect. She had a million dollar body. Great ass, good thigh to ass ratio. Flat stomach, she was fit like Serena Williams. Yellow bone in complexion. She had frickles on her face. That day she had just done her hair so she was brand new. She was a stunna! I remember looking at her and thinking “Nah, not today, Argentina had a bad game. Messi didn’t score. I can’t do anything today, I am useless”. Of course, I was rationalizing the whole situation. The truth is that heartburn set in and I didn’t think I’d be able to talk to her. What was I going to say to her? After that I always thought about her, thinking about how I missed a great chance and how I’d do anything for another chance. It was a while since I saw here again, I think I saw her again after a year. I was with my boy and it was like 8pm and we saw Faith walking with her friend. I flipped, I was like “Yoh mfana, here’s this girl again”. The showoff enquired “You mean her?” and I said “Yes, do you know her”. He said “Sure, follow me.” I couldn’t believe my luck. We approached the two girls and hey what do you know he did know her. We talked and we exchanged names. Mxit was a dying technology but I knew that I’d be able to get Faith’s number indirectly through that medium. So I asked and she gave it to me. I also asked her friends number for some diversion. The whole interaction needed to be neutral. I deleted the friends number when I got home and started work on Faith. We started chatting on Mxit and it was good for a while, so we took things to the next level and went to Whatsapp. I am really not a social media guy so it was all for her. I asked to see her in the flesh and I told her that I liked her and gradually things started happening. We spent a lot of time together when she came visiting. She made my heart beat like bass. We would go on dates. It was great. On the second date I screwed up, I don’t know why I did that. I kept talking about this girl I had a crush on in Primary who attended school with her. The girl I was referring to was a stunna and Faith knew her even though she down played it. Next thing I heard was how she didn’t like how I spoke because used a lot of “Tsotsi taal” in my language like “Why don’t you speak properly?”. I was confused but I realized I was trouble like “that’s how I talk, I can’t change”. She hinted I was too ghetto for her. She started drifting away from me. The more she pulled back, the more I advanced. It didn’t look good. I came across as needy and insecure. I ended up letting her go. Lesson learned never talk about another girl when you are with a prospective. It’s a simple one, I don’t know how I missed that one. I wanted to make her insecure, it backfired; a fools failed attempt. I did some Introspection. Man, Faith was great, she was beautiful, smart, had a great sense of humor, banging body and her laugh was incredible. She made me feel like Superman every time she laughed at my jokes. She was top quality.

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Kayla

Kayla

I remember when I used to work in a call center. I hated it. It was the closest thing to slavery because I had to work 12 hours a day. Sure it was 3 days in and 3 days off but that didn’t bring me any solace – they still owned 3 days in my life, in essence they owed half of my life. But how I rationalized the whole thing was that I had to pay my fees at Varsity. See I was taking myself to school and I was focused and motivated. I had a vision. Get a job, go to school, get my degree and I am home free. Except that my arrangement wasn’t practical, I was constantly in bondage. I felt myself wither everyday. It was like I was asthmatic, I felt myself running out of air. I was cornered by everyone’s expectations. Luckily I had an escape. Her name was Kayla and she was my age. We were the youngest pair at the time. Well, technically I was the youngest because my birthday is later but she was born in the same year. Kayla was beautiful. Sure the call center had hot women but she was the hottest. She was colored, had kind eyes, slightly long hair and the most beautiful smile. She had a purity about her soul. She was radiating, almost mythical like a unicorn. She had the unique ability of charming you from a distance. You were just mesmerized by her beauty. She was soft-spoken and elegant. She was calm and reserved. She was a lady. A lot of the guys wanted her. Naturally after training, I took refuge next to her. We were supposed to pair up with experienced call center agents who would help us get settled in. Kayla herself was not that experienced, she had been working there for like 6 months. I chose the agent next to Kayla who had ample experience. I conveniently chose a counsel of women to take care of me. It was great. After a couple of weeks, I had learned everything. I took a phone right next to her. We were getting the same type of calls from customers from the same company so I thought she would be able to assist me, if I ran into some trouble. She was great, she always assisted me with a pure heart. Kayla was kind and loving. We started bonding. We shared dreams and she told me that she wanted to be a Air Hostess and travel the world in the process. I thought it was great, she had the perfect profile; beautiful, reassuring, right height, right age, good communication skills, she was perfect. We would talk all day when we were not on the phone. Me and her had a connection, we could just talk to each other and there wouldn’t be any judgments. We were emphatic towards one another. We had a mutual understanding. We liked one another. Somehow she made 12 hours seem like 9 hours, and that’s great, that’s something. People started noticing and jealously started catching on like wildfire. The older guys in the call center who were marking Kayla started being hostile towards me but it was okay, it was not under my control. Besides, I knew what it was about. I know why none of them never made progress with her. They were too aggressive and that made her defensive. Their offense game was weak. They pursued her like they were catching a train. Rapid and fast paced, there was no romance, it was a bet of who could land the hot new girl. She felt like prey, like a piece of meat, she felt objectified. None of them had a chance with her because they were too expedient. Of course, I didn’t have that problem, she liked me, a fact that made people envious. I loved the energy I got from everyone from being around her, you know, I was seen, not ignored, I was popular, cemented, legendary, I was alive and the attention validated my existence. It was not in a boastful way, it was just that, you know – natural. She was my girl. I wanted to help her get into Aviation school so I did everything I could on my side. I had websites, numbers and tuition costs and we discussed everything at great length. Nothing really crystallized but we were still really close. I had thoughts of taking her out. I looked at my budget and it really made me angry. I had to pay rent, tuition fees and buy food. The remainder of the money wasn’t enough for a good date. I also didn’t have a car so I had to think logistics. And I still couldn’t afford those Puma Ferrari shoes that I wanted. Everything compounded, I hated my job, I didn’t have time for my thoughts, school wasn’t fulfilling or challenging, I was a repressed creative, my landlord was a jerk and I couldn’t take out Kayla on a proper date. I was living what Robert Kiyosaki had warned me about, “the rat race”. This is not what Napoleon Hill taught me. I rationalized everything with school but it wasn’t enough of a motivation anymore. My reasoning was a trap. I was dying and I knew it. It was like suffocating or burning to death, it was horrific. I went for leave to really think things through and to just clear my mind. I decided; “fuck it, fuck everyone, this is my life and I’ll do what I want. I don’t need anyone’s permission to live my life. I won’t live my life with fear. Fuck Varsity, it’s trapping my life and my mind, I don’t need a piece of paper validating what I can do, I am limitless”. That’s the thing I hate about the world, we created constructs that constrict the mind from flourishing. I resigned and started doing things that I wanted like writing my screenplay, learning about Investing, starting businesses and reading books. When I left I was the best call center agent, my numbers were really good, the manager tried to get me to reconsider but it was impossible. I stopped listening to the outside world that day, I stopped trying to conform. It was the best decision of my life. 12 hours a day and I still couldn’t take Kayla out on a proper date. Why live with such lack? Surely that’s not what God intended for me.

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