Receipts

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.

Reflections

Reflections

He said I still don’t know what I want to do with my life and it scares me. The expectations of everyone are putting me in the deep end and I don’t know how to swim. And so I am drowning, overwhelmed by everyone’s ideas of my life. I am reminded of the illusion of time and how I am not getting any younger. My peers are already settled but what does that mean? Because all I see is slow death that creeps on you like tobacco. The life of my peers is the cancer that grows and spreads exponentially. They have stopped living and are on a gradual decline to death. My peers are living quiet lives of desperation. Characterized by doing the same things everyday. Life has become a chore and growth is something that has eluded them. Nihilism creeps in on a daily and they often ask themselves, is this really worth it? Why don’t I just end it now? Isn’t it mercy? This can’t be life, there’s gotta be more!

I am tired of doing the same things everyday. My life is repetitive and I feel I am trapped in a loop. The sex is not all that great and I think my wife is having second thoughts. I am trapped in debts and the mortgage payments aren’t helping. I am slave, prostituting myself for the money and I am not enjoying it anymore. Everything is an obligation and lately I can’t bare to look at myself in the mirror. I don’t know who I am. I lost all my passions. My possessions have become my owners and I live in complete misery. I don’t know what happiness is anymore. Everyone in my life is fake and I have lost real connections. Everyone seeks to use me as a resource. I suffer from depression and most nights I can’t sleep. My life has become a Pavlovian experiment and the trauma is making me suggestible to all the injustices of life. Forced to love my servitude. My life is a propaganda campaign orchestrated by Nazis. The only thing that’s good in my life are my children. They are the glue that holds everything together, they bring relevance to my marriage. But I am happy, at least in society’s books that are massed produced for everyone. I am successful.

How can I look forward to that mode of existence, he reflected.

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