excuse me.excuse me.
i forgot to mention that i love this. a blogger what a novel idea as kitkat would say.
and excuse me. i realize there's smethng u may not know about me. i'm a writer. a real one. well, i know you can't tell frm these heah posts. but i is! official.
giving a writer a place to rant is an Archway to my homie cookie. pleaz! with that said i shall become my own god now.
that's all writing is. a divine tendency. which is why the ability to read is essential to freedom. writing is self knowing self. enuf to tell smeone else about theyself!! homieonthehomefront cookie theorized, quite accurately i might add, that l.boogie's current state of confusion is cause she's running away from her own genious. her-self. boom! dig the equation: god divided by creating=writing=freedom=self=beautiful ain't it?

It's 5:55 on the AM. I ain't got no business being up but I ain't been to sleep yet. Writing, thinking, trying to find my soulhome.
And this is all I know: I live this dream and somehow I find my visions unreal.

This being my first blog composition, I'll keep it like a snack.

I'm dedicated to learning. Clark ain't taught me much yet, but El Azteca in the sun did today: Most dayz I leave the house looking more than a painting. Cause I believe in style as a means of motivation and expression. Motivate innovation and you've freed a mind, dig. But I'm politicin' with a fellow younGod about folks staring at me all the time. Being-of-light he seen my plight and was like 'such is the life of mavericks'. I couldn't feel it at the time, lovin my personal bubble the way I do. And you know how you can always feel eyez on you? El Azteca in the sun wasn't nuttin new.
KitKat & Cookie was on the scene, loungin loverly. We ready to sip Coronas and appreciate melted cheese. KitKat got in my mind, 'what are they lookin at?'
I was getting that ol' itchy feeling and went with my reflex; I got loud. 'i don't know. but i'm sayin they need to! ...befo' i! ...'
By the time my chicken enchilada was before me I felt oxymoronic. What is inspiration without vision? I been illin' over the very thing I'm supposed to be for.

If I'm the star I claim, then I gotta be cool wit shinin.

My beef was my own belief. I live this dream and somehow find my visions unreal. But what's mo' real than me?

IN OTHER WORDS...If you gon' do it, don it.