been a minute.

but im back. for what reason unknown- but subconcious is overridden so my head is throbbing. i have too many issues of time to waste with watching these animated representations of a cooler life than mine so lets rewind- ill show you some time about a guy with no crimes, no rhymes, no push come to shove- he had no balls and two holes in his glove. he didnt make love he had consensual sex but the ex never gave him back the three thousand dollar dress so his next best bet was to put it in a vet, he could have some fun with the top down in the sun and the resale would be fine he'd cover his ass in time but the economies shit and hes getting nothing from craigslist until a foreign deal comes along, he ships it to hong kong to find the bank cheque aint shit and his car is being split apart for parts in some chinese black market shop so he starts panicking- his last investment vanishing his hope is gone splinters of his remnant heart and long forgotten past sting his bare feet as he shuffles on past the door onto the bed that he bought from ikea to rest his head. thank the lord for throw pillows as he muffles the shot, but instead knicks his jaw and cripples his last thought. the man now bleeding, crying and seething, mad at the world for treating him poorly, mad at his ex for not leaving the jewelry, mad at the man who conned him out his car but he forgets the good things in store. the things in storage if he had only known, he had a 65 cadilac decked out in chrome- he had a three story house furnished floor to ceiling but the only thing he found more appealing than the gold chandelier with real oil lit lamps was the lady he saw struggling up the ramp. he eargerly rushed to help her move along but when he turned around the vision was gone- goodbye goodbye my mansion in the sky thought the slack-jawed failure with despair in his eye. his fire forgotten, his huge heart was rotten, his drive to survive to outlive and out shine to best himself and to try to top the very best all while jivin the the rhythm that flowed through him- the warmth that consumed him, the fire to fuel him. but hes been runnin on fumes for days with no shoes hes amazed at how used his feet are to the asphalt- theyre suprisingly firm... theres no shame in being human, this much he has to learn, and as he takes a step off the curb and into the traffic his heart beat flares as do the blares of the half-shit half-sick music he hears as he goes down, another sad song for history, another failed tom tom.

if my fires an ember than its at an unbeatable stage itll his at your spits and only feed off of sticks and it will utilize stones to melt down for thicker skin ill use whatever edge i got until it means that im in so if my sidewalk ends ill jump from street to street ive got nowhere but up and knock-offs on my feet but i wont miss a beat cuz the clock never stops ticking the unforgiving minute never stops nor does it quiken but itll sneak up on you when you expect it least take your doubts and your fears and leave them on the street.