I wish I was nicer, but tonight I feel like an iceberg. I’ve been through this too many times, the act you put on, I’ve seen a dozen, two-dozen times. I’m tired of these same old games, hoped you were different, that you weren’t that lame, and these disappearing acts build up disappointment faster than a Lunatock track. Being a gangsta is so last year, and your temper is less attractive than your fear. You ask me to understand, we’re gonna make it, you’re my man. My heart is tired, and I’m feeling lifeless. Honestly the thought of seeing you doesn’t get me that excited. You’ve piled the problems high, hidden the issues from my eyes. The trust has been shot, there’s no transparency, we’re in a relationship, but you won’t relate to me. You told me to chill, that everything is fine. Baby, can’t you see that I’m dying on the inside? You say you play the part the way you know how, but I’m reacting in the way that I know now. I put my heart in your hand and trusted you not to bruise it. Now understand, I feel like you kicked it and you used it. You trust me to be here till the end, now babes, listen to me when I ask you to understand.
Girl inform me all my senses warn me your clever eyes could easily disguise some backwards purpose it’s enough to make me nervous. Do you harbor sighs, or spit in my eye?
But your lips when we speak are the valleys and peaks of a mountain range on fire. So let me walk these coals till you believe I can cut the mustard well enough 'cause you know as soon as breathe we scrutinize
Unknown quotients, you must be using potions. How else could you tie my head to the sky? This new confection has left me wondering why I can’t concern myself with ordinary trite.
Like what’s this morning’s paper got to say, and which brand of coffee to make, this is no umbrella to take into the wind, but before we begin, is there nothing to cure this anxiety?
But your lips when we speak are the valleys and peaks of a mountain range on fire. So let me walk these coals ‘till you believe I can cut the mustard well enough 'cause you know as soon as breathe we scrutinize the paint away.
“And I’ll be here by the ocean
Just waiting for proof that there’s sunsets and silhouette dreams
All my sand castles fall like the ashes of cigarettes
And every waves drags me to sea
I could stand here for hours
Just to ask God the question, “Is everyone here make-believe?”
With a tear in His voice, He said, “Son, that’s the question.”
Does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one but me?”—Mayday Parade (via pleasedontgo) (via quote-book)
DA:Everyone knows about this so its on them for not showin up.
Me:EVERYONE? No, just the people who went to A-town, grew up in the highlands, know Chris or Jamie, etc. You all don't know real niggas, serious about their shit, in the west and east end. and I doubt they would do a battle that wasn't sponsored by B96 anyway. I'm just saying there's a lot of Louisville talent that won't be represented before everyone runs around gettin' a big head about doing a "real battle" in the 'ville.
Me:Don't get me wrong, my boy will be spittin' and he's an east end nigga, but he really hasn't been reaching out to people he knows about this shit, so I doubt you all have serious connects with the other underground music scenes here.
CM:B96? [to me], I've actually BEEN on B96 for Spoken Word back when I used to do that at the Brickhouse. I've got Christopher 2X's phone number and everything. Plus, don't you remember me outwriting you every day in poetry class in Atherton? I'm not going to be an easy opponent by any means, and I have TWO battles. You know first hand I'm a beast so let's see if your boy can hold his own. hahahaha.
Me:You outwrote a 14 year old girl and you're PROUD of that? hahaha.
CM:Yeah, because you were full of shit every time, putting down everyone's writtens thinking you were the shit until I came along. Your location doesn't justify whether you're talented or not. You could be hard as fuck coming straight outta Shepherd Square but if you're not on your A-Game then you aren't going to beat me. Trust. Notice how the powerhouses are white kids from the Highlands. You can be from any walk of life. It doesn't matter where you come from.
Me:Hahaha. I'm just a little girl, Chris. I'm glad you thought that hard about it. I'm sorry you thought I cared about what anyone thought. I just happen to be able to spot good writing, and I do believe I complimented yours more than a few times. I never said mine was the shit, but ohhh well. Like I said, I was only 14. Boohoo for the sad little sophomore trying to have fun in a poetry class that was a joke. :) I'm in college now. What are you up to? Oh, you're a powerhouse? I know recording artists hosting parties at nightclubs all over Louisville, get played on the "Best of the Ville" segments, tour all over the country, and record with names like Kanye. "Powerhouse" is kind of an exaggeration. Sorry.
CM:Haha who cares about local acts? I work for War Lab Records. We just signed Canibus and released his latest album, Melatonin Magik. Just because you know people doesn't mean you actually work with them. But I'm not trying to flex nuts, I was just informing you that you were a petty bitch back in class -so you defend yourself by trying to degrade my quality by comparing our age? lol. It's not my fault I'm older, but it is my fault for being better.
Me:I didn't know we ever competed, and I don't think you can judge yourself as "better" because you're signed to a label, most recording artists are "unsigned" and do their own shit, or find a talented group of people to work with and call it a "label". I'm not trying to work with anyone in the industry, I just happen to be friends with people involved in hiphop and making music. It isn't my fault every other person calls their self a rapper. We're both doing two different things with our lives. Mine involves a completely different kind of writing, which I happened to get a full ride scholarship for. I'm not flexing my nuts, just trying to open your mind. Not everything is a competition, especially a "who's better" challenge, because I'm frankly not interested in being better than anyone. I was just trying to have a conversation about a huge part of Louisville's scene that's been left out of the battle, and hasn't been advertised to at all. I just thought it was funny that you still think of me as a child, when I'm not at all like I was in high school, especially my freshman/sophomore year. Usually no one is, to be honest. You're kind of ignorant for holding onto that, but it's not my problem.
Now I was sitting waiting wishing That you believed in superstitions Then maybe you’d see the signs But Lord knows that this world is cruel And I ain’t the Lord, no I’m just a fool Learning loving somebody don’t make them love you
Must I always be waiting waiting on you? Must I always be playing playing your fool?
I sing ya songs I dance a dance I gave ya friends all a chance Putting up with them wasn’t worth never having you And maybe you been through this before But it’s my first time So please ignore The next few lines cause they’re directed at you
I can’t always be waiting waiting on you I can’t always be playing playing your fool I keep playing your part But it’s not my scene Wont this plot not twist? I’ve had enough mystery. Keep building me up, then shooting me down Well I’m already down Just wait a minute Just sitting waiting Just wait a minute Just sitting waiting
Well if I was in your position I’d put down all my ammunition I’d wondered why’d it taken me so long But Lord knows that I’m not you And If I was I wouldn’t be so cruel Cause waiting on love ain’t so easy to do
Must I always be waiting waiting on you? Must I always be playing playing your fool? No I can’t always be waiting waiting on you I can’t always be playing playing your fool, fool
“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”—J.R.R. Tolkien | All That is Gold Does Not Glitter (via janettt) (via quote-book)
We speed into the tunnel, full of waiting. Slipping into the shadows and swallowing a deep breath, I count, still waiting. I’m waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel. I will wait forever, breath held tight to my chest, wishing to be happy. That’s what you do in tunnels: you make a wish. Mine is always for happiness, but I tack on a second, more selfish, wish. To be happy with you. For as long as I can. The darkness lasted seconds, ticking away in my mind, and still, I held my breath. The counting was even, but quick, not quite telling the time, but tracking a sort of personal progress. It was my time, my pace, my speed. The car was going 80 miles an hour, but my mind was much slower, and my heartbeat was even. The yellow lights, orange from pollution, filth, salty, sea air, were just as evenly spaced, softly passing, glowing by quicker than the ticks of the wish, repeated in my mind, and the seconds zipping past. Within a half a minute we were out of the darkness, back into the muted daylight, the sunlight covered by the cloudy-with-a-chance-of-rain typical of the British seaside. I released my breath. Would my wish come true? It was a relief to be past the tunnel, and one more step closer to the destination of today. My destination was in my wish. And I could say with absolute certainty that I wasn’t there yet.