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SELLING AN ETHOS
At the brink, we who are now saddled with the general wealth of our inundation, have to relearn our accommodation, Schadenfreude rich Nigerians don't know how to behave. The atavistic orthodoxy and envy of behaviour ingrained by years of devolution by nollywood movies, creates a monkey-ness of sameness where anyone that differs is tagged mad or literally killed.
Sadly, they have the money but without grace, they grub and grab echoing menacing laughter and stopped gold watches. Their bleached skins, red eyes, calloused feet hang out of thier tight palm sandals standing scaly skins, devilish grins, and a swagger that portend the walking promise of hell on request.
Lid on, an empty they term full, they sit under shades and look earnestly for wings to clip, lessons to teach, people to kill.
Sadly, they don't know the essence of time
Their ignorant pride, a damned without comparison and religious reification will not allow them be.
Sitting mostly, they plan, mull regrets eat bread, meat and rice and finding nothing for thier minds. Their soon bloated self, self bloated so as age themselves notice when they are not greeted, a snap of the finger at whoever would have been better off welcoming an idea: minimalism.
From the other, melioration and hobbies are the things we do with time and money
all of man is an imitation. To sell an ethos that meliorates for them to attune to, they have see it as that which they wish to imitate, we must wait for the wrought of their new wax but more for the hardened to melt, if we feel we brave a better
all of man is an imitation. To sell an ethos that meliorates for them to attune to, they have see it as that which they wish to imitate, we must wait for the wrought of their new wax but more for the hardened to melt, if we feel we brave a better
Selling an ethos to the Inundated involves firstly acknowledge thier trauma and waiting for their folly and if we are unchanging, they will copy us. We need pliancy, teach and give a self respect, teaching thier children to do the same. And we do, we have to sell an ethos to them, which are nudges and comparison We have to sell them that: we read, listen to music, Horticulture, photography, farming, seeing movies, documentaries and adventurous cooking. That's all.
And this is for the children who are getting accustomed, who are getting the nods of approval from their parents with the didn't I tell you raised shoulders. This is how we met it, so they change it, not just for them but their children and our race.
I must admit that a melioration is going on, but the problem with the imitation of ignorance is that it taints with its smut and spot the clear design, fouling and mangling it, as sensationalist patterns and peculiar which further worsens and degrades. This calls with the fire that will clean us and baptise us anew so we can forge new paths assured of the tensile of our sinews hand in hand to the future.
To a new meshed purity, the new black elixir that will determine the foundation of the new black Africans and a solid new platform for our unborn children. We can therefore shed the shackles of mistrust pick up tackle our collective problems collectively and the end of the day sleep on the lap of the other who reads and chase flies off of us, regardless of tribe or tongue.
ON DIRECTNESS
I prefer the joke prepared than a folly perpetuated and a laughter though intense, very wicked and is not shared even when masked.
I must admit that a melioration is going on, but the problem with the imitation of ignorance is that it taints with its smut and spot the clear design, fouling and mangling it, as sensationalist patterns and peculiar which further worsens and degrades. This calls with the fire that will clean us and baptise us anew so we can forge new paths assured of the tensile of our sinews hand in hand to the future.
To a new meshed purity, the new black elixir that will determine the foundation of the new black Africans and a solid new platform for our unborn children. We can therefore shed the shackles of mistrust pick up tackle our collective problems collectively and the end of the day sleep on the lap of the other who reads and chase flies off of us, regardless of tribe or tongue.
ON DIRECTNESS
I prefer the joke prepared than a folly perpetuated and a laughter though intense, very wicked and is not shared even when masked.
But some don't like directness others see it as a cunning, self preservation repulse me, and any who will whisper from the bushes is reduced in mine, I therefore condescend and prate down on, further sending them to thier shell, come into the light we all are alike and day like us is fickle But they hide, why? then they must be the dark!
A lack of directness is a concealment, a guilt that bores deep like a leech and burrowing, until the wriggly is yanked out and cast into the rays the damage to one's trunk (one's mental image/assertiveness) will be hard to salvage, so you have a cure Why not take it.
You refuse because you are not just lazy but rather manipulate with excuses, praising the count out and side watch, so as to laugh at our mistakes and learn lessons off of us, You deny yourself the right to ever assert yourself for at the breaking of our bones we heal a little stronger and can tell by mere looking that you lost parity
So we are bolder and can string you along if we so please, By the time you see the similarity of our instances and dare to claim a personalty it is too late, The days is over and it's a shower and head back to our bunkers
While we are fast asleep in our grave soon lulled with the smile of our efforts you are restless and turning moans at a wasted opportunity, Still no one remembers at the end. Unlike you, a maggot will fall from our smiling carcasses.
You refuse because you are not just lazy but rather manipulate with excuses, praising the count out and side watch, so as to laugh at our mistakes and learn lessons off of us, You deny yourself the right to ever assert yourself for at the breaking of our bones we heal a little stronger and can tell by mere looking that you lost parity
So we are bolder and can string you along if we so please, By the time you see the similarity of our instances and dare to claim a personalty it is too late, The days is over and it's a shower and head back to our bunkers
While we are fast asleep in our grave soon lulled with the smile of our efforts you are restless and turning moans at a wasted opportunity, Still no one remembers at the end. Unlike you, a maggot will fall from our smiling carcasses.
The Reattaimment of Our Godhoood
Reading the Bhavaghad Gita opens the door closed at birth that leads to the hall of the gods. thereby reclaiming the godhood and the loftiness that used to be yours.
I ask, who created the lobotomy of the astral realm?, how come we forgt that we have been here before? Fela said veryone is rewinding, becoming slaves again centuries after being freed.
Reading the Bhavaghad Gita opens the door closed at birth that leads to the hall of the gods. thereby reclaiming the godhood and the loftiness that used to be yours.
I ask, who created the lobotomy of the astral realm?, how come we forgt that we have been here before? Fela said veryone is rewinding, becoming slaves again centuries after being freed.
We are the gods that we read about in the vedas and through a carefully machinations aversion laced with a life long seamed noises and distractions. We end up reincarnating continuously without ever reattaining, nor remembering our God status.
Someone must want the proliferation of an ignorant horde, I surmise for fossil fuel.
The reading of vedas have further opened my eyes, and mind to see that all these were my past actions. And I am part of the Aryan race that Hitler talked about, I too belong to this race of gods but have made to forget. There is a loftiness in my mind that I attain, a glow in my skin, a blur between my dreams and the spirit world.
Awakened I feel only sad, how have I been watered down so? Who are those from my birth at the hospital, the ensuring of my imprisonment in schools to condition my life long servility inundating me with sex and television responsible for this utter degradation and devolution?
Who are those who made sure men go to market everyday, become commerce mad and always thinking about money all day, foisting them with restlessness to stack up sand in the name of duplexes only to have them dilapidate. A complete waste of the human life, greed unto waste.
Who are these vultures, these rats, and demons who walk around in human skin but are actually demons? and how can we see them?
The continued reading of the vedas have posited that the attainment of the Aryan race is possible, by reading you reattain the god nature that you lost.
And we can now see the rats that live among us, The Jewbie (jewish zombie) in every race, as they exist as both white and black people.
They are commerce crazy, lousy, and depraved children of demons.
They will call you mad, berate and ostracise you be not deterred, as you can't, now intimated with the pure beauty that is your godhood.
Reading the vedas and I can tell them apart
For a human who at the getting of wealth or knowledge spread it amongst his kin, hoping fot them to share in this new found goodness, but a demon hoards money, hoards knowledge and finds joy in watching the folly of others.
They might don the human skin but they are demons and they abound everywhere
Rather than allow our children waste their time in their useless prison they call school we can set them as early as we can to the path of reattainment by enforcing the reading of Vedas and sutras, they therefore become the god race that Nietzsche spoke about.
For a lack of education is a devolution, a retardation of the man, keeping them servile, alimentary, animal and innocuous, sating them with sex and homogeneity, they live like rats in slums embroiling themselve in the barrel crab mentality attacking and checking each other in envy, fetishism and hypocticritic orthodoxy
Reading vedas have moved me up from the devolving castle placed on my brain as a black man to pure energy and consciousness.
Someone must want the proliferation of an ignorant horde, I surmise for fossil fuel.
The reading of vedas have further opened my eyes, and mind to see that all these were my past actions. And I am part of the Aryan race that Hitler talked about, I too belong to this race of gods but have made to forget. There is a loftiness in my mind that I attain, a glow in my skin, a blur between my dreams and the spirit world.
Awakened I feel only sad, how have I been watered down so? Who are those from my birth at the hospital, the ensuring of my imprisonment in schools to condition my life long servility inundating me with sex and television responsible for this utter degradation and devolution?
Who are those who made sure men go to market everyday, become commerce mad and always thinking about money all day, foisting them with restlessness to stack up sand in the name of duplexes only to have them dilapidate. A complete waste of the human life, greed unto waste.
Who are these vultures, these rats, and demons who walk around in human skin but are actually demons? and how can we see them?
The continued reading of the vedas have posited that the attainment of the Aryan race is possible, by reading you reattain the god nature that you lost.
And we can now see the rats that live among us, The Jewbie (jewish zombie) in every race, as they exist as both white and black people.
They are commerce crazy, lousy, and depraved children of demons.
They will call you mad, berate and ostracise you be not deterred, as you can't, now intimated with the pure beauty that is your godhood.
Reading the vedas and I can tell them apart
For a human who at the getting of wealth or knowledge spread it amongst his kin, hoping fot them to share in this new found goodness, but a demon hoards money, hoards knowledge and finds joy in watching the folly of others.
They might don the human skin but they are demons and they abound everywhere
Rather than allow our children waste their time in their useless prison they call school we can set them as early as we can to the path of reattainment by enforcing the reading of Vedas and sutras, they therefore become the god race that Nietzsche spoke about.
For a lack of education is a devolution, a retardation of the man, keeping them servile, alimentary, animal and innocuous, sating them with sex and homogeneity, they live like rats in slums embroiling themselve in the barrel crab mentality attacking and checking each other in envy, fetishism and hypocticritic orthodoxy
Reading vedas have moved me up from the devolving castle placed on my brain as a black man to pure energy and consciousness.
LANGUID IN SURFEIT
After the sixth cum she had pushed you over to light a blunt and get her vibrator going
You sigh to the slow spining fan and think to yourself, this is it!.
Your much longed for paradise at it's literal climax and it is bland, like the cheeseburger you ate the day before, white people are taste sensitive and there's no pepper and no spice, nor throbbing in your heart.
You sigh to the slow spining fan and think to yourself, this is it!.
Your much longed for paradise at it's literal climax and it is bland, like the cheeseburger you ate the day before, white people are taste sensitive and there's no pepper and no spice, nor throbbing in your heart.
It's a life, but... You finally jumped all the hurdles to find out the wreath is cheap, it's is a weak handshake and a grin that greets you it sulks clearly here bit something is off, You feel languid.
In surfeit, We find out that life is in the living and in the living, lives the undulation a variable constant that jolts you, a constant to get you thinking a constant undertaking to get you scared and smiling
So we move to life's Edge a razor to our irises and we inch in permete our humour and retch back and say mtchew you can't do anything buy we know for a while we were blind, blind in love
What if somone pushed life from behind and and cuts you but it will be more better than the distracted silence, the earpiece life, the individuated celebrity complex homo deus, inured in kinks and fetishes.
So we move to life's Edge a razor to our irises and we inch in permete our humour and retch back and say mtchew you can't do anything buy we know for a while we were blind, blind in love
What if somone pushed life from behind and and cuts you but it will be more better than the distracted silence, the earpiece life, the individuated celebrity complex homo deus, inured in kinks and fetishes.
The ennui gets to you eventually and paradise can be quite boring, so instead of feeling languid, I will give you a purpose:
That purpose is others, that purpose is Africa.
Smuggling novels and ipods to people in North Korea Smugge iposds to other autocractic governments african countreisa Doing something while even it is small to give your life a prupose
To educate the boredom and it led to the creation of the Zelkova movement Party onus as the sharing of media and planting of trees
Could be assisted with the extra even if it's a campaign agains FGM in Africa, Planting of trees, Building parks and playing spaces for children.
Creating a media repository for young adults dedicatdd to the step by step improving of Africans and the entire Black race
Which could also include opeining and operating a Publishing House that publishes the Holy books like the Bhavaghad Gita et. al, giving it to the teens in Africas
Look for a way to put ipods, bicycles to girls in Northern Nigeria.
A million Ipods bicycles and Lessons in Permaculture self Reliance and we will never be the ignorant migrants at your borders. And occasional Pumped fists in surfeit.
THE CRY
The artist revolves around a single story and I call it the cry. It litters one's work and pervades the entirety of one's wtite up. So I have decided to round off my writing as I gradually see the similarity of my write ups.
My cry is in findng out the Epsilonism of Africans previously unknown to me still unknown to many Africans and it made me mad.
All I had to do is wear less clothes white shirt Jean trousers and a note pad, good music, indoor plants and minimalism, Buddhism and you conquered the world and this was what the white man held over our heads for centuries it made me walk variations and tremolos But it stems from the first high pitched bawl. a what? fuck No!
The artist revolves around a single story and I call it the cry. It litters one's work and pervades the entirety of one's wtite up. So I have decided to round off my writing as I gradually see the similarity of my write ups.
My cry is in findng out the Epsilonism of Africans previously unknown to me still unknown to many Africans and it made me mad.
All I had to do is wear less clothes white shirt Jean trousers and a note pad, good music, indoor plants and minimalism, Buddhism and you conquered the world and this was what the white man held over our heads for centuries it made me walk variations and tremolos But it stems from the first high pitched bawl. a what? fuck No!
All I had to do was give up Meat and read more and you look back at the horde of zombies and you grab that megaphone
Shouting all we ever need is here Just stop Hey read. All we ever need is here Just stop Hey read After 11 years I have to come down and continue..
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