Is that a person falling
someone jumped off a bridge and theres people casually taking photos
I don’t think they were taking a picture because the person jumped off. I think they were taking the photo because of the fog and then it so happened that a person was jumping off a bridge. I mean look at the distance between where the person jumping and the person taking the picture.. unlikely for them to know what the person was gonna do, let alone see.. and even if they did want to take a picture of that, how would they even be like “OH hey look a person jumping” and have time to pull out their camera, focus and take a picture
Walking home alone, feeling down as if I was prone, but no, this is no black ops. Not a game, no fortune or fame could take away this inner pain I feel.
That’s forreal, it’s in my brain & it won’t go away, sometimes I think I’m crazy. Maybe. It’s the shade I see. Life is black and white, no need for red or greens. I feel blue like you would if you were in the bottom of the deep sea.
Just another day in the life, of a young man like me. average day after average day, not a grade A, but more like a negative C. O-N-S, yes. Cause the cons I face are never in the same place as my pros.
Look at me, 16. Acting like I know how it all goes.
If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have to see the same things as the strong men that came before me in my ancestry tree.
We live in a garden & continue to watch the flower of life grow. After seeing it die, from time to time, we replant another seed & wish for success in the various ways that weather can affect our daily flow.
To and fro as I blow in the wind, my roots keep me steady and stop me from sin, I think again that if this garden would only let me in, I could flourish in this world, but where do I begin?
I’m a small piece of glass, in a box full of tin, surrounded by rocks and obstacles that keep from the win. I dream of success & Vegas, staying in suits at the Winn. Material things are nothing if you can’t see within.
Inside. My inner thoughts. My inner mind, my intellect, my amount of respect for no one who treats me with neglect. Better yet, it’s the attention that I want. As I stunt, and flex, without my pretty flower petals I’m nothing but stem, made from sex.
Another body on this Earth, just another flower in the garden without any since of direction as my roots begin to harden & I’m stuck. Just my luck, the cage of life has surely struck & i’m just a chicken in a box with no desire to cluck. Oblivious to what’s around me but some how I know, what my future holds, where I’m going to go.
Out of my comfort zone, no more farming in the garden with the animals. My roots have finally shifted and my flower is now tangible. Of course the thought of moving on and changing is a scam to you. You’re only human & still don’t realize the weakness of man, do you?
The irony of life and death is surely blinding. People say religion is the key, but there is only one way of finding.
You’re just a flower of life, in this garden of everythingness.
To me, I think you have to live enough and die a little to find out what everything is.
Cutest Nigga Out.
Spill. Playing Black Ops.
Spill, with a pink umbrella in the day time?