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When life gives you lemons…. you paint that shit gold.


Go ahead and step  into that warm weather, go get yourself a more better forever.  ~Atmosphere

Yuri Kochiyama, who still lives today, brought each minority in the US one step closer to peace each time she rose awareness.  In WWII after the bombing at Pearl Harbor, Yuri was sent to a Japanese internment camp with her family. She was forced to experience the cold ways the US treated Japanese citizens. Several years later she moved to Harlem, and was forced to face the reality that Japanese groups were not the only groups being hated on; blacks had no peace in the war against discrimination either. Blacks in her new neighborhood were bereft of any bit of respect they deserved.  So being the amazing Japanese activist she is, Yuri became a member of the Harlem Parents Committee, and protested for more streetlights to be turned on after the sun said farewell.  Later in 1977, she and 29 others stormed the Statue of Liberty to bring attention to the issue of Puerto Rican independence. Damn. This lady was all over minority justice. Her activism suppressed racist judgements all throughout the US.
… You go girllllll.


Yea, it is said that God created man before woman, but then again… we all make a rough drafts before the perfected piece.


If Jesus Christ had kitchen appliances, He would have my picture on his fridge

Old guys pushing grime on the first date

kill their thrill

Run away till you find your true soul mate 

Yesterday while sitting in a coffee shop with Marie (instead of attending school…), our day must have slipped on a banana peel, because the oddest of odds occurred. An older man with hair down to his ribs glanced at the two of us through the window… and tripped on the concrete. How could we not laugh. So the man comes into the coffee shop, to tell us what fine young ladies we are, and he couldn’t help but to come tell us how great it was to see two pretty girls sitting there. He then went on asking if we knew who the band ‘Steppenwolf’ was. We nodded, yes sir! They sing the songs ‘Born To Be Wild’ as well as ‘Magic Carpet Ride’. But we still thought this guy was pretty sketch. “Well I am Goldy McJohn! The keyboardist of Steppenwolf. It may sem weird to see me walking around here, but Goldy’s gotta live somewhere huh?! Might as well be Seattle!” We just laughed and said deuces as he exited our hooky spot. Before he was even out the door though, we were Googling his name. Sure enough this man was very popular on Google and everywhere else on the World Wide Web. CRAZY! We were laughing so hard, I was about to pee my pants… and I had only taken one sip of my coffee at that point. Pure happiness. Anyways, the dude walked past our window spot a while later and I chased him down the street asking for a picture. He replied with a ‘yes’ before I could even finish my request. He then proceeded to take Marie and I on a walk down memory lane as he reminisced of his glory days. He was such an interesting fellow. 

There is no telling of what my day will turn out like. Ever. It’s like taking a bite out of a donut, and realizing there is that white cream stuff on the inside. Weather I like it or not, I will never know what the center of my donut tastes like untill I take a bite.

(Jelly filling is better though)

If the government has no knowledge of aliens, then why does Title 14, Section 1211 of the Code of Federal Regulations, implemented on July 16, 1969, make it illegal for U.S. citizens to have any contact with extraterrestrials or their vehicles???

Hmmm.. What a curious demand considering the contradiction.

Landing. Hard on the ground. As my skin skids across the cold concrete, and my bones snap easier than a kitkat. My blood rushing forth towards the direction of my fall, then crash. After the backfire Everything halts. All is still. Silent. As the churning of thoughts in my head grant me rest with a blanket of darkness. Stale blood leaks from my weakened exhaustion and penetration.  My body has taken its position of a most natural fall. my soul escapes its walls of my skin. Its damp walls of tears and pure blackness. Endless empty echoes. Yes. My soul has escaped, and taken its first breath of embracing rays, never looking back at my broken body ,Laying lifeless and hollow. Containing  No heart to beat my second-hand blood. No skeleton to support the mask I wear each day. No muscles to control the meaningless movements I became. Done. Done. Gone. My spirit finally displaying the pureness for the first time. Weightless, young, sheltered, loved, held, created, called, told, guided, thawed. Gravitating towards Gods eternity.

A meeting with destiny… its fate, I approach with such softness.. not a zodiac late. Used to dash up the stairs with such curiosity, No time to stop and frown or learn cruel animosity. Never once had the thought of beginning my own leaving, but lately all I know is the weight of this heavy breathing. Awaiting these stairs to crumble down broken stone, no longer upheld gold built to trophy me alone.