Adentro mi cabeza

Buenos tardes amigos. Espero te que la vaya bien. Te extrano y yo penso por ti simpre. 

I’m almost positive all of that shit is wrong. But who cares. Whos really reading it. 

Clear Soul Forces "Dinner Time" (Whitewall #001)

This is some funky ass rap. Listen to it when you feel bad, you’ll feel better. 

Failure

I’m not going to feel bad about failure anymore. I’m going to instead just train past it. It’s not a race or a competition. It’s a steady progressive marathon. Don’t quit. 

Si se pude amigo. 

So Which is it?

I never thought I’d find myself writing this much about this subject but here I am again. So I am going to confess something but I’ll omit their names because it’d be unfair. A famous porn star and I got to talking and I didn’t think it’d ever happen but I actually made friends with an adult performer. She was cool. I’m going to call her Alison. But At any rate. It’s only fans. So she is there to make money and I am a customer. But I spent way too much money. I mean probably about 150 in the first night. I’m broke as hell anyway. So here I am trying to impress this professional porn actress for her attention and digging myself into a hole. It was massively upsetting to know that some of the pictures I bought were recycled from other accounts she didn’t think I’d find. When you are a consumer you get pretty good at publicly sourcing the places where your favorite models keep their content. Well, tonight was the night I told her I’m not spending any more money. I knew the second Alison saw it, I would never hear from her again. So far, I’ve been right.

What a way to go out.  

I dont know what I should focus on more; Having a quick relationship with a porn actress of my dreams or turning her down and never hearing from her again?

Which one makes me a bigger man?

Quein sabe. Hasta luego amigo…

Kanye West - Real Friends (Official Audio) ft. Ty Dolla $ign

Cuantos Nosotros? 

how many of us?

Puedes sintir eso?  Dime, quero saber.

tհε ʆίƒε σƒ Թαɓʆσ

That boy and his bride look good. 

That hungry boy.

When I listen to rap music I can think about how I used to be so hungry to be somebody. I think the trap I deceived myself into believing is that I made it. I have a girl (A fine one too). I have the place. The job. The title. The friends. The experiences. I’ve been jaded by my own progress. I’ve become comfortable in my little success. This isn’t it. I can see that more evident when I am talking to whores online on sites like only fans. I can't help but want to make small talk with them. But then I saw one girl post who I don't follow. It read something like. “Don’t try to make small talk with me here. I am here to entertain you and unless you are here to pay me don't talk to me or be in my inbox.” Quickly reminded me that once upon a time I was unable to even pay for porn. Now I do it all the time. My ability to afford is tricked me into thinking that these whores like me. they won't and never have. They didn’t in middle school, and they don't know. They like my pocket. Don't get me wrong, I don't care that they are whores. That's their life, let em live. Clearly, they have a market that needs servicing, and I was a consumer. It is just now that I’m understanding that just because I can buy attention, it doesn’t mean I can buy companionship. 

Its a facade...

Simpre me pregunto... Quien es soy?

SomebodyMaybeNobody

Who am I?

Sometimes I wonder who I really am. I know this will make me sound crazy. But You all know I’ve been working on trying to get closer to God. It’s really making me wonder who I am. Like what is this life? I can't help but ponder those things. I need to seek those answers. Truth is, I don't know. I can't even tell you that the words I’m putting in this post are organically mine. Who the hell really knows? All I know is this shell I’m in, that some of you have seen is not who I am. I’m inside it. But then that begs the question who am I? And what am I doing here? 

I knew God was real. I always knew. I'm sorry I ever doubted you God.

I need God more than ever right now...

Que la vaya bien amor.

Morning routine.

Wake up.

Think about what I want to do for the day.

Solve a rubicks cube.

Scroll through porn blogs and check social media.

Tell my wife I love her.

Think about my book.

Get out of bed.

Hygiene.

Eat.

Get back in bed.

Open laptop.

Go back to work.

I don't have a red pen so this black one will have to do.

Editing phase part 2.

I'll see you in a few hours world.

I'm just gonna put this is my back pocket until I have some free time to play with this.

You see the Grim Reaper and ask if it’s your time. Death checks a clipboard and says “Nope. Looks like you’re not due for another… three thousand, one hundred and forty-one years? That’s weird. Also, how can you see me?”