The Abyssal Disturbance

Floating.
Nothing.
Everything.
But nothing.
Reality.
I see it.
Reality.
Reaching out, slapping me in my face.
I woke up and was still asleep.
Am I dead?
Am I alive?
Who knows. All I see is darkness.
Consuming me?
Enveloping me?
Which will it be this time?
How do you know the end is certain this time, when you've been here before?
All I can do is wait.
Wait.

For a saviour.
But who?
Who will enter my abyss of darkness?
Who dares enter this chasm of chaos, of wander, of fear.
This chasm of everything, and nothing.

Falling.
Not floating.
It was dream to think I could float.
Deeper into the darkness I am pulled.
Should I struggle?
Would it make a difference?
No. Just fall.. Its okay to fall... You've been falling all along.

My eyes.
My eyes burn now.
What?.... Light?
Why is my chasm so warm?

Reality.
Reality slaps me in face again.
But this time its a kiss...
The kiss of light on a cold face.
This is happening.

I'mnolongerfallingeverythingishappeningtoofastwhatisgoingonsomebodyhelp....
The light spoke.
It had the melody of a bird and brought the madness of the impossibility.

"You are not alone anymore."

Honour Roll

They are coming for me.

I can't run any faster.
Parts of me want to join them so I have a problem dodging their blasters.
How are those guns so huge anyways?
And can I blame this predicament on my brain lag?
The other players are getting agitated, some willing to join the cause,
Some not letting the willing go, keeping them with an applause.

Security.
They are secure.
Or at least they feel that way.
Do they not realize their reverse gear?
They fight internally all day.
But in the end their war is lost.
They are brought back into the abyss of delinquency into the star cluster of Lackluster,
and I'm her fighting. Fighting. Finding my own way.
Looking to the future.
Moving from the planet of backward; escaping the gravity.

In the end all our battles become outward
We unconsciously pull at others to join the cause we are comfortable with.
However, nothing about success is comfortable except the end.
So what is our end?
Will these men wound us?
So we become zombies of the void?
Slaves to poverty and idleness?

I can't escape.
But I won't give in either.
Their is positivity and determination.
So theyre about to get a lethal injection.
I'm loading the clips and charging the bass. (FIRE THA BASS CANNON! *dubstep track*)
Ready to share, whatever the case.
The chase is on.

Go higher.
Reach higher.
Don't be pulled back.

Theyre coming.
But we're going too.
Pulling the poor enemies along for the cause.
They can't keep us back. They can't weaken our soul.
There is only up.
Far beyond the Honour Roll.

"Pun-couragement"

The person tweeted "Don't be good my n*gga, be grate".

I'm a Grammar Nazi but as far as I could see, it had to be fate. 

Holding back the urge to correct,

I delved deeper into the subject and so realized,

I was trying to correct the already correct. 

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend"

That quote is solid to its foundations and independent to no end. 

The the driving force of allied nations,

Planning the destruction of others,

Leaving human beings in search of salvation.

The great circle of relationships.

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Don't be good, people, be great. 

Don't be good, people, be grate. 

In order for us us to be smoothed and refined, 

We must endure the harshness until the appointed time. 

Life is never easy.

But to be great, we must first be grated. 

We have to be shredded to learn,

Put down so we can understand what it means to be placed high.

("The Homonym of That Verb is my Adjective")
This grater is preparing us to be greater in the salad of the world,
Where everyone has a purpose and adds a particular flavour.
If we aren't shredded, we won't have the texture we should and we won't be of any use.
Only through trials can we be tested.
Only through being tested can we be great.
A homonym of grate is great.

Just like how gold is refined by fire,
so too are we refined by the grater.

The person tweeted "Don't be good my n*gga, be grate"
I'm starting to think this person is a genius.
Or am I just thinking to deeply?
In the end, what is important and grammatically correct is:

Don't Be Good... Be Great. 

R 3 A L I T Y

I'm not a fan of typing but hey, why not. 
This blogging thing is... I dunno.... An avenue for me..
To vent on certain things I find... Uhh.. Interesting... And one of those things is the concept of Reality. 

What is reality?
Well... According to Google:

The world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them.

However for me the truth is, no matter how many ideas or theories we want to make up, the more you think about reality, the more puzzling it is. Where did this concept even come from? Which genius got up and said.. "Hey dudes, this is reality", his friends would've been like.... "Get out."

 I mean to even think of the scale at which reality could exist. That sentence in itself is dependent on reality. The basis of existences is that we do so in an accepted reality. Truth is, we form our own. 

To me, reality is subjective. Your reality isn't necessarily the same. The one thing we do know (another premise based on reality) is that humans all perceive reality in the same way. By routine. Collecting data in our brains and after every cycle of sleep, once again reloading that previous data and moving forward. However, sometimes our perceptions are too vivid. 

D R E A M S. They act as a bridge and a wall to reality. The bridge that is formed by using snippets of our life.. wants , desires, family members to link us to something that isn't reality. However, when we're awake.. We immediately know its a dream because of our past experiences... You know.. seeing dead people etc. 

Reality. Jamaica. What is our reality?

Poverty. Crime. Economy. The Hustle. 

S U R V I V A L 

That is the only piece of reality that is common to all.