Mirror | antakalipa

Projections

The human experience is such a comedy but also a tragedy at the same time. You mean we are not in control of who we love? That secretly the Universe and all the forces of this planet conspire and decide my fate? The arrogance in that notion – it makes me sick! Just maybe everything in the world has already been done and I have to be allocated in a category. Apparently a category has already been assigned to me. Does it mean I am already in a box? Confined and blinded by my restrictions. This can’t be life – there has to be more. Maybe this could be a simulated reality. I now find the subject of love vague and grey. If we subconsciously project our experiences as young individuals originating from our childhood and parents to our partners – Isn’t love predictable, with a pattern? I feel my life is a performing stock option projected to do well in the coming years. I feel life is channeled. I feel everybody lied to me. I feel betrayed. Like love is rigged and fixed. You mean there are more people like me who fell in love because of projections and repressed subconscious desires. Are you saying I am the problem? But I am different.

In that case I hate love. It doesn’t make sense and I renounce life as well. How are conflicting feelings or ideas possible with love? Why are we so obsessive? Are we the ones in our bodies because sometimes I feel possessed by an overwhelming spirit that does what it wants? Is it even real? What’s real? I don’t know. I don’t understand how a mature and practical adult can regress to behavior seen as childish because of love. I don’t understand how someone can be fearful of being alone. I don’t understand why love makes us such bad judges of characters. Why are we willingly blind? I don’t understand why we mistake a narcissist for a genius, the suffocator for a nurturer, the slacker for the exciting rebel and the control freak for the protector. Its madness and stupid. Maybe it makes sense that love stems from repressed unconscious desires; because then we can define it and try to examine and understand. In the game of love what is most repressed shines through – the irony in that statement. What a show! Love is clearly the undisputed champion of the world.

Receipts

I am on top, its not surprising. I’ve gained the weight I’ve lost to level the playing field. I am in great form, I’ve beaten them all, my competition in the rear end swallowing my dust, cause they always thought we were head to head but I was checking the rear ever since. I’ve beaten them all at their own game, I reflected back who they was. Cause it’s all about consciousness, no person will do you dirty without conscious intent. It’s done on purpose, to keep you dependent on them, to make you suffer, to humiliate you. It’s doublespeak, they say they love you but they don’t give a shit about you. This is about power plays, egos, control, respect and subtle dominance. If you let it go once, it’s going to happen again because it’s a learned response, that’s why you gotta double down or crush the behavior completely. They take advantage of your kindness, they don’t respect you, that’s why you gotta set an example. Strike the Shepard first and the lamb will disperse, make God bleed and everyone will perceive him to be mortal, my nigga, always send a receipt to someone who requires your services. A lot of people are repressed that’s why you gotta deliver that consciousness, a hot slap to the face with fingers imprinted usually solves the case. Nobody will ever mistaken you after that, both feet on the brakes before turning that corner cause people forget who they dealing with sometimes, “shut the fuck up and know your damn role”! Receipts, receipts, receipts, you gotta hand them out, some people think their shit don’t stink and you gotta bring out the air freshener to purify the air. How you gonna black ball me when my balls are black? How you gonna invoice me when I sent all your shit back? I’ve beaten all you niggas, I proved you not on my level, I’ll beat your ass again to echo that you are not on my level. Receipts, receipts, receipts, you gotta hand them out, no free lunch, deliver so it sticks, so no motherfucker takes advantage of you. If you swelling up, I’ve got the remedy to make you calm down, that’s fists, let’s go! If you can dish it up then you can take it, no exceptions Mr. Ultrasensitive and privileged. Receipts, if you can’t dish them up then don’t play the game because you’ll be a target and you won’t be able to pay up, rendering you useless and defaulted. Receipts, receipts, receipts, I’m narcissistic too, I also don’t care and we can leave it to die too. If you want beef, I’ll serve it on a platter, let’s go chief! Receipts, I bring it all day, all night, I reflect you like a mirror.