tommydisacult:

So this girl i really like came to see me at work today i introduced her to all the waitresses and kitchen staff, talked a bit and gave her a kiss when she left. Basically made my night 100% better cause she makes me so happy. Now when she leaves my work everyone is saying how pretty Jill(the girl i like) is and how shes so sweet and good job, blah blah blah all that jazz. Now its clean up time and I’m really giddy and happy and one of the girls Nicole comes up to me and starts saying i look so happy and she thinks I am in love. I told her straight up are you kidding me? In love already doubt that. She say no you are a teen your probably are. I asked her do you honestly know what love is? and she didn’t have an answer that would satisfy anyone asking. Now it has got me thinking do I even know what love is? Or is this young women Nicole just completly nuts. Im starting to think that the older generations expect us to be blind about love and naive to what it actually is but there are some of us young people that know more about love than the older men in women in this world. It annoys me that us young folk get put into the stereotype of being so blind and anxious to find love and be in love that we would manipulate are own thoughts to believe we are in love. ***What I’m saying is I know that I am crazy about Jill absolutely into her, but its not love not yet and the older crowd must give us the respect and open mind to thinking we may know a little about them about what we all really feel.

It makes you wonder why adults think that way, because I agree with the theory that they believe we’re naive about love. The only reason why i think we would want to find love so badly as to misconstrue every emotion as such is because we didn’t get enough from anywhere else, which would be the adults fault. I think I would be willing to put money on the theory that the only kids who REALLY like to believe that every happy emotion that generates from a significant other-is love, only think as such because they don’t think their parents loved them enough, leading them to strive for it from somewhere else. What’s ridiculous about that is 9 times out of 10 the parents do love them they just either suck at showing it or its not shown in a way for the child to interpret it correctly as such. There should be guidelines for this sort of thing, that way no one would be confused and no one would be able to tell you what you’re feeling.

Love is something that I have been looking for, for a long time now.
It just seems like I cannot find it no matter where I look.
But then there is a feeling inside of me that I have indeed felt this pain before, but I cannot track its origin.
Some might call this feeling a blessing, maybe so.
But I find this to be a pain that just never goes away until you find that perfect some one.
That some one that you could spend the rest of your life with.
But I also feel as though I am in need of this pleasure and pain.

For it is something that I feel every one should know of.
Some thing that everyone should know and embrace for as long as they can.
But I have not yet felt this pleasure, this wealth, and yet I feel as though I may have and not yet noticed it.
What could this mean? I ask myself.
Could it mean that I have indeed found this one some one that I could cherish forever and perhaps lost them?
Could it mean that I am capable of appealing to this person that I could possibly know?
Or am I just preaching about a subject that I know nothing about.

Just some random passersby on the highway of romance.
Parallel to the route of destiny.
Or is it?
I fear that I will never find the answer to this one very complex question.
Though there is still that knowingness in the back of my fragile mind.
A false knowingness perhaps but still knowingness at the least.
As I look through my past, the people I have met, the people that I know now.
Could it be possible that that one person could be in one of these books of time that are held in the library of my mind.
I may never know.
I may never know for I may not want to know.
Maybe I am running from that one person that I so longingly desire.

That one feeling of beauty that one feels when he is with that one special someone.
I do not know why I would run from such a feeling as this.

But in the back of my mind I know that such a feeling could frighten anyone if it is strong enough.
Love is the strongest power in the cosmos.
And I think everyone is running from it.

Her eyes are the stars of the midnight sky.

Her laughter the gentle waves slowly rolling up the shoreline.

Her mouth a portal when I get absorbed into her words. Myself absorbing every word she says.

Her words are like the clouds that lift me into heaven whenever I see her smiling face.

When she cries I feel that my world is crumbling beneath me. An earthquake in my utopia of romance.

But she doesnt know. She doesnt know how seeing her just once, if only for a second, walking in the opposite direction, is enough to fill my want, my need and my desire to be with her.

There was a time when I thought she felt the same. A time when we were both delighted to see each other no matter the circumstances.

But I was wrong. I was as wrong as I have ever been in my life, which now seems so pointless and pathetic.

Just looking at myself knowing what I missed out on, and knowing the kind of chance I had.

It eats me up inside.

Every day another peace of me crumbles. Every time I see her with another man, another part of me breaks off and is forgotten. Never to be recovered.

The only way to bring back these little nothings and others of the like, is to feel her love the way I have felt it for her for so long.

But alas, I am without the knowingness and do not have the power to bring it upon myself to make such a decision.

She is the one that had to choose. Either wait as I waited or this. Words cannot describe the pain I felt after the revealing of her decision.

It was apparent that all my hope, all my desire, was a waste. A waste of the very thoughts and feelings that made up my soul.

I am a fool.

To feel that the one I loved could love as  I, too, had once loved is not a feasible conclusion to the question at hand. For no one, nothing, and no how can anything be measured to the same multitude of my love for her.

But all these feelings put aside, I am still nothing. Nothing because although I feel this all for her, it is nothing in itself. It is just a feeling. It can be easily tossed aside like a bad poker hand because in your mind u think you know that something better is bound to come along.

But what you may not realize is that somewhere in that pile of cards is the one card that turns your hand into perfection. Myself, being the card. The hand, being my life if I were to be in yours.

But I am the card that is never dealt. The one that can wait till the end of time, just waiting for the perfect moment to turn your hand into whatever it is you need to win the ultimate prize.

A card can wait forever. And so can I

The record plays with Life’s first breath.

Round and round it goes from first track to death.

Melodies and chorus’s the good and the bad.

The up-beat tones and the blues from the sad.

They all come from a similar piece of mind.

And all relate to similar aspects of the life of mine.

The record plays till it reaches the end.

Then it flips over and starts up again.

The gentle harmonies, the flow of the chorus.

But then it flips over and uncontrollably changes before us.

Let the record play, there’s a lesson to be learned.

Lingering deep among the verses rationality and wisdom are the unspoken words.

You’ll have your Blues throughout your Hip-Hop and your Pop throughout your Rock.

But regardless of your preference it’s never going to stop.

Let the record play and learn every lesson to be learned.

And just let the volume be your only real concern.

Have you ever noticed,
That it’s only when you have something to lose,
That people actually start acting like they care?
People who never had anything to say to you,
All of a sudden have tons of comments to share,
But never to you.
Only about you.
Because we live in a world where people will do anything to get out from the bottom.
Even if it means bringing you down with them.
It’s no longer a matter of someone having what you want,
It’s purely a matter of something they don’t have.
Nobody wants you to have something they don’t because all that does is make them feel even more infrerior and even more insecure then they already do.
So they tear it away.
You get money,
everyone wants to get close so they can borrow some.
You get friends,
Their friends spread rumors about you so you can’t have them,
and they have them all to themselves.
You do something they can’t even compete with,
So they make it so its worthless.
Even if it’s something you love,
they try and make it so it’s meaningless.
And it is truly amazing to see how hard people will try,
to bring people down to their level so that everyone is the same whether they like it or not,
Whether they try and rise above or not
Whether they care or not.
This, is Social Communism.

I lay here, waiting.
the sweat trickles across my body, as the executioner sharpens his implements with premeditated precision.
“Polish your seringe.” I say. “You’ll get a clearer shot of my soul as you extract it.”
“Make sure your knife is nice and dull.” I suggest. “So the blood sprays.” An essence of my life like perfume, as he gets off to the thought of drowning in it.
I am crucified, mentally.
Pin-sized nails puncture the perfection that is the body’s personal supercomputer.
Draining and drowning in the deception it has dealt with since the beginning.
I beg for bigger needles in the belief it will relieve my bereavement.
More like extreme acupuncture than torture. Torture is more resolute in it’s triumph.
I am the daydream among the nightmares.
I am the hay in the needlestack.
I am still, waiting.

-so now that this threads got some attention
i figured it my natural duty to not forget to mention
that my name is Infinite cuz my flow goes on n on
mess wit me im the King and youre just a little pawn
now I cant bring myself to try n rag on muh boy tony
but trust me when i tell ya hes nothin close to phony
see me n him dynamic duo jus like dre n Em
but once we blow up we’ll b even bigger then them
n idk much about this girl over here named ashley
but from what i can tell she realy looks pretty flashy
but hey dont get it twisted ya kno she keeps it classy
now i gotta tell you all about muh boy Maximums cd
its got all his hot solos and a track featurin Me!
better line up now cuz hopefully itll b coming out next week
at 7 bucks a pop ya practically gettin the shyt for free!
Mr. Nice Guy words sugar coated wit ice guy
cant touch this shit cuz nothin else is more fly
so drop the word now n spread all the rumors
n get ready for our wrds knockin ya head like brain tumors

-so i jus thought id spit a lil somethin to bring it back
a few bars about sum shyt since i seem to hav a knack
to provide lyrical content while makin sure the lines aint wack
without feelin the need to talk about totin guns or sellin crack
now where all my talent came from is really a mystery
and wit chart-toppin songs like soulja boy i thought that hip hop was history
but we here to bring back some real lyrical composition
and bone songs like apple bottom jeans lyrically in the missionary position
now on the real theres just no point in persistin
cuz when it comes to new hit songs its the dope lyrics thatre missin
its like all the real shyt has been put in disposition
and instructional dance songs are all that we hav left to listen
but ima tell you right now that hip hop aint dead
even tho its like everyones got “supersoak” superstamped on their forhead
put on some pac or biggie SOMETHING wit substance on instead
and drain all that “cyclone” shit right outta ya head

-sparkin up some style to light up the place
makin sure to seperate the real from the disgrace
when it comes to flow and wisdom there is no race
cuz once exposed to my knowledge the color drains from they face
my words penetrate the mind like hollowpoints
like some vocabularically enforced 50 caliber joints
so jus point the gun to your head n blow yourself away
and let the knowledge and the wisdom culminate in ya brain
so now im peacin and dont ever let it seem
like i dont talk about what i live cuz i live about what you dream

-i jus cant help it my lyrics are sick
call me glue cuz my words cant help but stick
inside ya brain look like a collage
arrangin sentences to make the mirage
like im some kind of savior but that aint me
and i aint no moses tryin to split the racial sea
wit the words i spit tryin to bridge the gap
tryin to show that white guys can rap
i just let the flow arrange in my mind and the words connect
i told you once already i murder the digrace
no race between races when i walk in the place
cuz once the flow blows up the color drains from they face
and we back to where we started everybody look the same
so talk ya shit and spit ya game
i aint in it for the money n i aint in it for the fame
im in it for the vocabulary composition biblical plague
that i cant help but spread by never bein vague
bein blunt n to the point thats my style
words are vile n pile themselves into a freestyle
and for now im out n it probly wont be a while
before i drop another cuz i forces this one jus now
so ill toss this in there and watch from the stands
until i jump in again n bend the flow wit my command

comrades call me deala, my knowledge i spread illicit
betta check the label, whats contained is explicit
no it neva stops one taste and youre addicted
call me Hearoin cuz ya hooked once ya listen
cuz see youre like a skata, on a crooked grind
listen to one track by me, now you gotta crooked mind
see my nicknames disease, cuz no one else is iller
heres a filler, never sippin Miller cuz i take pride as the vodka-bottle killer
cuz its infinite, rhymes for infinite, times
and if bein a lyrical expert was illegal id hav infinite, crimes
the game is straight twisted spittin infinite, lies
but Infinite can make it if he spits one more time…

Anyone can write.
All it takes is an idea and a pallet.
To connect letters to words, words to phrases and sentences.
Displaying the message clear enough to get your point across,
This is writing.

Anyone can write.
All it takes is initiative and a prospective.
To piece together a philosophy with structure for a space only measured as ear-to-ear.
Providing this limited space with limited possibilities,
This is writing.

To create an image;
To create an idea, or reinforce one;
To open minds instead of closing the opportunity;
To keep them open.

To witness their newfound soul as it is portrayed in a piece of their work;
To allow others the chance to embrace yours.
Achievements not easily attained but easily celebrated
Once achieved;
But beg for so much more sacrifice and an equally elongated state of vulnerability;
This is more than writing.

Anyone can write.
All it takes is a word processor and spell-check.
To throw some thoughts and opinions down, toss in some punctuation and intriguing vocabulary.
To put your thoughts in the hands of a jury that grasp it with numb fingers,
This is writing.

Anyone who confuses mind with soul,
Let me ask you how you enjoy writing.
Anyone who answers must already know,
because Writing is easy.