LMAO.

Oh, and Happy Halloween, by the way.

Let's see...

I commented someone's FaceBook status (I didn't put "LOL," but I was CLEARLY joking...)
Then this individual (<---CLEARLY a substitute) said "No one asked you anyways..."

OKAY...

Let's get one thing clear. FACEBOOK IS PUBLIC (AND SO IS YOUR STATUS). SO YOU ASKED ALL OF YOUR "FRIENDS," ACTUALLY. If you don't like what I do, suck dick. Delete me. As niggaz would say, "STR8 LYK DAT."


I mean, say what you will or may about me, but at least I'm not... (I JUST NOT NEED TO GO THERE...)

In fact, this goes out to everyone (INCLUDING people who I'm cool with).

I'm actually gonna stop saying things like, "I can put whatever I want on MY blog," because that goes without saying. That being said, I can do whatever I want on MY blog. Bitches. Don't like it, don't be my friend... STOP READING. Eliminate me from the face of the Earth. Can't? Okay, shut up. Hahahahaha.

You CANNOT be my age and tell me you haven't watched this...

I can see if you didn't watch Mr. Rogers, but you HAD to have watched GUMBY!

I would watch Mr. Rogers, Gumby, and Reading Rainbow in the daytime just about EVERY DAY. My childhood wasn't THAT bad, I guess. Huh...

And, The Blockheads? Greatest. Villains. Ever.Fuck the modern day usage of "Blockhead..." These niggaz are what blockheads really are. Bitches.

Ode to Mr. Rogers.

Gosh... I loved him.

Mr. Rogers is my wallpaper for my cellular phone and my laptop.

I learned SO MUCH from him... Growing up in San Antonio.

I remember... Amidst all of the bullshit that was going on in "that house," I would always look forward to hearing Mr. Rogers asking if I could be his neighbor. And him zipping up his cardigan all the way up, then halfway down. And putting on his Keds sneakers.

Mr. Rogers. He was probably my first friend.

I'm about 8 years late, but... Rest in peace, Fred Rogers.

Top 3 Influential People in My Life.

(This list does not include parents, friends, etc.)

**********

1. CHARLES HAMILTON
No one understands the connection I have with him. Pause. The music he makes relates to me so much, it's crazy. He was a loser in high school like I am now. Everyone doubts him. He has struggles in everything I did (virtually). Fuck Lil Wayne, fuck Drake, fuck Gucci Mane, fuck Messy Marv, and fuck all these other rappers that everyone likes because... well, everyone likes them. Charles is original, and I really admire that he doesn't give a damn what anyone thinks of him. Have you seen his hair and clothes? Terrible. Who cares, though, because his music is ILL. I only like rappers that I think are better lyricists than me, and Charles is definitely at the top of the list (what up Lupe!). Fuck Interscope, too for dropping him.

**********

2. LOUIE V
Many people don't know this, but he got me started in this whole rap thing (did you think I came up with "D.Linquent?"). I don't know, I had to put him on this list... I used to straight COPY this nigga when I was in 9th grade. I don't know how he didn't get annoyed. LOL. This is no diss to him, but if you don't like the person I am, he's partially to thank for that... A lot of my demeanor is/was based off of what I seen him doing or saying during the "Highly Anticipated" days (Spring/Summer 2007). I copped my first LRG shirt MOSTLY because I saw that he only wore LRG. Then I saw him wear 511 Levi's. I talk all this nonsense about me having clones, but I guess back then I was a clone of him. Whatever, though, he was COOL. Fuck the bullshit that happened with me and him and whoever else, that's still my big brother, I guess (if I can find that "Big Brother" instrumental... Y'all know!)

**********

3. Pharrell Williams

I tell everyone this... Mr. Williams single-handedly made me the fly-guy I am now. Plain and simple. After I saw the "Can I Have It Like That" video, I started observing his style a bit. During the summer of 8th grade, I copped a few Ralph Lauren Polos (eventually becoming obsessed with them), some straight leg jeans (Levi's 569), and some Ice Creams... The rest is history. Damn that was a good ass year.

Conclusions.

1. Clones are at an all-time high.

2. Clones of MY clones exist. What the fuck?!

3. I'm on my Greg Enemy shit right now... plaid shirt, skinny jeans on the waist, less than $40 pair of sneakers on, fly-ass glasses. And I'm STILL that guy. (Google Greg Enemy, he's about to put KC on the map. No disrespect, Tech. I seen them billboards for that K.O.D., though!!!)

4. I'm smarter than people initially thought. So, that means I'm pretty FRICKIN' smart.

5. Me and Shi Reeves are on a break. I still love her, though.

Reality Check... (Late night venting)

How I'm feeling right now... This quote is just stuck in my head.

"What happens to a dream deferred?"

That's on my mind for many reasons. If what I'm about to vent/rant/babble/etc. about seems irrelevant, who cares...

I'm 18 years old. I don't have anything. Sure, I have lots of material things. But, if you know me PERSONALLY, then you know that those things don't mean anything to me. Why do I get them, you ask? Maybe it's because those things are the only things that have ever given me positive attention in my life. I've been a loser all my life, but I've gotten attention for being different and wearing nice clothes (I've stopped overdressing lately, though). I don't feel good unless I have a $500+ outfit on. I watch too much TV. I went to a sneaker website and saw some shoes I've been anticipating the release of and just became so angry because I knew that the likelihood of me purchasing them is low. And I'm not afraid to admit that I'm broke because I never claimed to have extensive amounts of money, despite my expensive attire. Fuck the implications. I got rejected for 3 jobs this summer (I thought I deserved to get each of them, but whatever)... Since I saw those shoes, I applied for more jobs on the internet. If I don't get the job, it's nothing new to me. Then, I think... What would buying lots of clothes do for me? Confidence? The confidence would be wasted... because apparently no one knows me... And if no one knows me... You know where this is going. I don't know what else to do with money anymore.

So, I'm 18 years old. I have a growing goatee... A sex life (sorry, Mom)... Hopefully college bound in a few months... But I have to walk to school this week. And I have to walk home, too. I choose foot it in the morning because I'm too embarrassed to be dropped off in my step-father's work van... I have enough problems, and enough things that people can make fun of me about. I don't need one more insult added to their arsenal. Hmmm... Since my blog is public, I guess I just told everyone. Whatever. I feel ashamed to BE ashamed about the work van in the first place. I mean, I've NEVER really had much (except for when I lived with my dad), but I don't know. And it fckin' sucks that I can't complain about it because I'll get lectures such as, "When I was your age, I had to walk 5 miles in the snow, blah blah fucking blah." Just because your high school years were wack, doesn't mean mine have to be equally as bad. I need a car... Or at least I need to drive to school. Man, my year is going downhill.

Like I said earlier, I don't really have anything. I really dislike the people in my household... And they dislike me back. I put on the biggest front EVER on a day-to-day. And I hate it. It's faker than the smile I had when someone else was crowned homecoming king (pretty fckin' fake). I have no support in anything I do. I have to motivate myself to do everything. EVERYTHING. I know that they don't think I can go to a 4-year university, despite the numerous academic achievements I've received. The deadline for early entry college applications is coming soon (Nov. 1st), and I'm just starting my application process. I think I can make it... And I want to go to college... No, fuck that. I HAVE to go to college. I have to get the fuck out of here. I hate every "hood nigga" in Kansas City, Kansas and every "boss bitch" here, too. Washington, D.C. or Atlanta isn't going to be any better, but, hey. Whatever.

But... What DOES happen to a dream deferred?

Many of my dreams have been put on hold or eliminated because of various setbacks.

I had potential to be the valedictorian of my future graduating class... Then I experienced attraction to and from girls.
I had potential to be an NCAA basketball player. Then I came to Kansas City...
I had potential to be shirtless and not be ashamed of what people were seeing... Then I started rapping.
I had/have potential to get a record deal (fuck what you heard)... Then came my senior year of high school and the thought of failing due to lack of a college education.

What happens to these deferred dreams? They're looked back on during nights like this. And they're spoken about when I'm on the phone with people and I feel like I do now.

"Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?"

It's 4 in the morning. And here I am... thinking of my life again.

I'm too tired to even think about this anymore. Much less blog about it. Fuck off.

As I always say, if any bitch nigga/bitch bitch wants to "clown on me" for this, don't waste your time. I openly admit all of this shit already. I AM A LOSER... I AM POOR... MY FAMILY DOESN'T LIKE ME... ETC. ETC. I don't even know why I even put these at the end, but I do anyways.

I LIED!

That was stupid to say I would be on a long hiatus. Oh, and by the way, I love the word "hiatus."

So... Yeah. I'm back at it like a crack addict.

Successful freestyle coming later this week (as some people wanted).

Random: KID CUDI'S OUTFIT IS ILL, NO HOMO. FLYNESS!? PAUSE.

No homo at all, this is an ill picture. I'm 'bout to change up my whole style because of THIS picture. PAUSE.

Hibernation.

Due to recent stress that has arisen as of late (that not even blogging can help)...
I won't be on this blog that much (hopefully to focus on music).

I'LL BE BACK...