So reflective of me that I wonder if God just created two models of the same brain.
How does an artist create without emotion? More importantly, why are the negative emotions the most fruitful? I write often, not just because writing is nice. (It is, but that’s not the point.) On a boring, uneventful day, even if I felt like writing, what would I write about? There would be no subject matter.… Continue reading How does an artist create without emotion?
I told myself I'd have to save this post for a time when I feel the way I felt when I wrote it: very low. Otherwise, it wouldn't feel authentic. It is, after all, about depressive sleep. That time is now. On Some Days Growing attached to the state of oblivion Getting lost in the… Continue reading On Some Days
Note that this work is fiction, and I am not the persona. Don't attack me, please. Conditioned Theoretic: A Matter of Aspirations Picture your best cliché sitcom scene of aristocrats who happen to be related – yes, complete with even that one guy with the thinning hair and the monocle. Picture them in a grandiose… Continue reading Conditioned Theoretic: A Matter of Aspirations
For all the negative people who are going to shoot this down: go and create your own blog and don’t pollute someone’s comment section.
By Imani Brammer
Dear Bobby Shmurda,
I have danced to your song “Hot Nigga.” It’s on my iPod and I love when it plays. What does this mean? It means that I enjoy a catchy beat, a nice flow and even better, a fun dance to complement it. However, for a while, I didn’t know that you were rapping about murdering people. I was simply lured in by your beat, flow and dance alone. The lyrics were dissonance: mere noise that did not register in my mind. Though mainstream rap is often frowned upon, not all the time am I compelled to listen to politically conscious music like Common and Mos Def (though I adore them both, and also have them on my iPod). Sometimes I want to simply hear a beat, hear some words that flow and dance without digesting or internalizing the lyrics. However one day…
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The day was extra-ordinary. What I mean to say is that it was so ordinary that it was excessively so. The atmosphere was hot and sweaty, and the people were too populous and too loud. Nevertheless, we acted like we were alone; there was no other way to do it. There was nowhere else to… Continue reading Set In Stone
I am not a believer in optimism, Because it's just happily shading your eyes from the truth, And it's fake, because real eyes realize real lies. Maybe I believe that pessimism is just realism in disguise, Because my reality is often...very...negative. If you really want to see something as white and perfect, You will, by… Continue reading Life Is Grey