Notes

Imma shake the Can you open the seal and lip read?

Cos your track puts me on track as we race to the line

Open up the fastener promise you I'm fast enough

Marathon man can you pass me the baton?

Handle the pace of your heart that's a trip

Of Course and the rhythm got me lost

It's so a-Maze ing

Almost skating, no half pipe cos this is the full course

Of course, I have a sweet tooth, pass me the menu...

Man what am I doing?! When I have U

And be assured I'm not playing, this ain't no footsie

saying "you ain't my Man" U best believe in my words

And the feeling that was felt from the first time

Like a dear walks for the first time

Pain at pleasure was the procedure of our Rhyme 

Preparing for the passion in my imagination for next time

But don't get it twisted cos I'd dread to lose... you're mine.

Will Time Tell?

I wrote this in my notebook on the 9th of January and whatever motivated me to write it is probably the notion of life.

'In this generation there's too many games. 

Everyone is a player, playing their own game.. multi-player, single player, board game, interactive game you name it. 

Everyone is eager to start one then everyone is scared to finish it. 

No-one dares to finish the game because being a loser is no longer a threat.

The thing is we all want to win. 

But someone has got to lose and everyone is pretending they're winning.'

Confused? Yeah me too. I like it though, so regardless of your opinion, you have read it, thanks.

I like it loud

I have been awake since 12pm yesterday. I sat up all night waiting for the internet to resurrect from the depths of my despair but no.

Thoughts kept me up. 

Music was playing, some playlist on soundcloud which I will not mention for the fear of being judged. 

It was chill. I sat here drawing and writing and gazing out of my window at the moon. Thinking about those scenarios that you want to happen.

Yeah... I'm no John Keats, but when I start thinking, I shit you not, a poem starts forming in my head.

The conversion of my thoughts into lines that won't ever make sense to you. 

I turn him on, he's always showing it.

And I love it when he's loud during the day, but the soothing whispers in the night are so perfect.

It's only when it's just me and him that the whole world is forgotten. 

My mind is just on him and it's magical.

I pay so much attention to him, I sometimes wish he would talk more...

Like if I asked a question, I'd want him to answer, he has no soul

but he answers me in other ways.

Ways that make me feel noticed.

One to one.

Perhaps they hear us, they've never seen us though.

I value privacy. But he likes attention so I don't think he'd mind going public.

I always notice his veins that pulse this energy, that drive.

His deep notes always hop in my ears.

We'll always have this connection.

I know it, I will take him everywhere I go...well only if they have sockets.

He is so clean I'd never want to get him dirty on anyone else's desk.

And I wish the wires were longer because I like distance sometimes.

Tomorrow is Sunday, he'll have a day off.

And I wish he could go louder, but security would hate me even more than they do now.

I dance to him though, everyday. He doesn't comment. So I dance more.

lmao, I knew personifying my speakers was a bad idea.