Sometimes I sit and wonder, because I feel its easier than thinking.
The imagination without the stress.
The nostalgia without regret.
-Leighrick
Category: Thoughtful Blurbs
Excerpts of thoughts I have elaborated.
The Amazing Race?
You’ve been there. I’ve been there. People long to be there, but who wants to leave? People run away from love. People chase love. In essence, it’s all on the same track. Hard to tell who is sprinting and who is fleeing. They’re all chasing it without knowing who’s in front. Whose chasing who and who’s is running away?
–Leighrick
MAP #1
I just wanted to write something simple and save the complex reading to the magazines. I fiend for my dreams, yet it seems I am always a dollar short. Trying to contort these words in to phrases that resonates in deaf ears and describes life to those without the ability to see. The world just ain’t black and white, especially during the spring. When it’s cool to laugh at fools, and the shine from the sun isn’t hiding when mother is crying. The moon walks the earth, and stars are being shot for no cinematic reason. Reasoning is for the weak, I only reason once a week, because its either do or die where I’m from. It may sound cliche, but in south central there’s no in between. No room for contemplating. I’ll have seconds with that thought, you may be still be complicating. Con fused [with] revolutionary. Street smart so you can call my pieces maps instead of literary. Subliminal messages that go deeper than submarines, wouldn’t go to war for oil, but you just might lose one for this ink. Conflicting popular belief this Life shit ain’t really about me, its for the ones with their heads up questioning me. Like, WHY DOES THE WORLD KEEP BREAKING MY HEART! My 5 year old best friend screams. Already learning that love is unconditional but today and tomorrow isn’t everlasting. Cartoons and cereal, with no milk, and suddenly you learn problem solving just trying to eat. Seriously, what does all this even mean? You keep adding only for it to be subtracting what you really need. What is it that we really need? I keep looking for the truth, because I kept getting told it’ll set me free. I feel myself getting old, I think this is all apart of mental slavery. We need healing, but have to give our life savings just for a Doctorate Degree? FUCK THAT. All i need is Hempathy. I criss-cross applesauce my legs, inhale the light, exhale the darkness and let my ancestors speak. I know I’m touching on a lot of subjects, something like the SAT, so avoid me if you like but that wont help you succeed. All you want is the money, the cars, and the clothes, but the money cant buy you tape to patch the holes you get from trying to escape. There is no debate about it I am a cold one, I wouldn’t give 2 fucks if they jumped in my lap in the form of a child and asked me to hold them. Welcome to the mind of a giant disguised as Yoda.
–Leighrick
99 Problems and the Answer is 1
You know, sometimes I ask my self, “Why do I even bother?”.
I mean in all serious where does being a good person ever get you in life; besides a grave? In the end your spirit and soul is left feeling “substantial“so to speak, but how does one even know? How do I know that the bullshit I endure for the sake of other people is even beneficial? Now, don’t get me wrong I’m not looking for anything in return, but how much easier is it to be a good person now and die; than to die and become a good spirit?
Death, death is so often viewed as the dark side. As much as I am taunted, and taunt myself. I find that I cannot take the steps to even think of being selfish. However to you that may seem absurd.
I mean honestly, I venting about a situation in which dirt is being thrown on my name, by individual(s) who I’ve gone out my way to protect.
Yet, MY faith is QUESTIONED, because I do not seek the wisdom through the words of the bible? On the other hand, no questions are asked about priests who molest young children, and then go on to damn people to hell for being homosexuals?!?!?! How is one so sure that these words in the bible are those spoken from God? Himself? Herself?
I know, I already know you’re thinking “how dare [I] even throw that [her] in?”. I was told that the reassurance of those who believe in his words are recognized and strengthened through faith. Now if the fate of “man“, and the world’s being is rested upon faith, then why can’t I be equipped with the will, knowledge, love, wisdom and the strength of FAITH to trust my own intuition? An intuition that is said to be “God given” and has proved me correct far more times than the bible.
There are no different versions of spirituality, faith, and ancestry, besides within the story of an individual; yet there are among hundreds and thousands of versions of the bible. GODS WORD. How many ways can God’s words be written and interpreted to be correct, beside the correct way in which he said himself?
Within self I find God[ess’]. Why limit myself to one? I often think about this, but I usually fall asleep and start my day before I can ponder on an answer.
I know I have gone completely off topic, but this entry is solely to vent.
Are you comprehending?
VENT because FRANKLY, I’m 2 years past through with being fucked over. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice, is all I’ve know. It’s what I’ve read, and heard, and taught myself because with all great things comes sacrifice. Or so its known to be, and here I am dying. Still I some how find it unexpected?!
Fool me once, shame on you – Fool me twice, I’m the fool.
Since a child I’ve sat in this very same house inquiring about life, death, and life after death. Wondering, after death is it possible that an ill soul can become well? If so I may start inching towards the darkness myself, because all this light I am in taking is so often blinding.
Ultimately, I have nothing to show for what I’ve done. I practice, and practice, and practice, and preach and teach, and think and sit and become enraged. This absolutely sickens me! It gives me headaches, produces tears I have to fight along with battling yelling so loud that l I am deaf. Not having to hear anyone else bullshit, but stuck with my own internally?
Though I refuse, because already I am driven almost insane by my own questions.
Is that why I am so good with helping others? “Problem Solving”.
Would this be labeled neglect?
I just want to know why the “good people” are always fucked over. I mean honestly, who has a real answer to any of this? That’s where the frustration stems. ARE THERE REALLY EVEN ANY ANSWERS?!
WHAT IS THIS LIFE SHIT?!
Life long questions that pass throughout lifetimes are handed down to dwell on. This philosophy course isn’t doing a damn thing to help me understand spontaneous death.
I am really pissed right now.
You try believing you can talk to some people, you give em an inch and they take a mile, but distance isn’t the problem.
WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?!……[THE ANSWER.]
Fucking Shit.
–Leighrick
Black Thought
Heavy hearts are burdens
Broken hearts are cherished.
For love we perish
In love we age.
With black clouded fantasies,
to make believe is valued.
The proof is in the pudding,
Instant truth digesting questions.
More questions than answers
curiosity spreads like cancer.
The sickness of inaccuracy corrodes faith.
Maybe all the rights are wrong
Maybe all the downs are up
May be the reason we think the sky houses souls
When it rains is that them crying, listening to the lies being told?
Watching the future unfold.
A wrinkle in time is a smile perceived as beauty.
Strength mirrors will.
To become or to exist?
Trying is harder than living, but death is defying?
Answering questions with questions, seems to be the only answer.
–Leighrick
Just the Pieces
Drowning out city sorrows with Hip-Hop Blues.
Death comes in 3s,
My regrets come in 2s,
You only get 1 life to live, so
Which one should I choose?
Tapping my feet to the beat,
Bass bruising my drums.
I wish I remembered when this city was dust.
Sand storms instead of smog infiltrated clouds.
This city has my heart,
My roots intertwining with those of the trees.
I see my city; thinking I cannot look past the trash,
Atlas, I see the Art and its production of people.
I sit back and part the pages in my Notebook.
Jotting down lines that paves ways into memory lanes,
I am consuming pens.
Down to my last two,
Thankfully I’m spared a pencil.
As if living isn’t enough,
Living it to the limit is too much.
If I could sing, I’d write a song
Unfortunately I cant.
All I have are these poems.
Pulling my own weight.
At the same time reaching for the stars,
Living in a World,
Where the leaders are manufacturing sugar-coated lies.
While we’re consuming them, free of charge.
Wondering why our blood cant make it all the way to our hearts.
I have ink in my veins, eyes full of pride.
A heart full of love, soulful cries.
I feel this pain in my chest, in the smokiest skies.
A conscience ahead of the naive,
Who are stuck in lies of the past.
That when they arrive to the present,
Surprise!
My smile is mischievous they tell me.
Only because I know what you don’t see, and see what you disregard.
The sky is soon to be falling, and the ground is now breaking.
Welcome Lost Angelinos,
To the Hell as we know it Home.
We’ve dropped from the Heavens in search of Grape vines.
Instead found bittersweet Cactus’, and the strength in Palm Trees.
Babies Crying.
Men Dying.
Women Trying.
STRIVING.
Constantly admiring the homeless.
While everyone’s stuck in their box,
They keep going.
I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard to live, and be ready to die.
Most times when I walk past them
I tend to swallow my pride.
When I need to ask for a of couple dollars,
Shit, I get mad, Im about ready to cry.
When I see them, if I can I give em mine.
Many are abandoned by Love and by Mind.
Lost the fight to drugs, or did the time for the Crime.
Who am I?
Who are You?
Who could we be together?
These thoughts are just the pieces that made this poem come together.
-Leighrick
The Past of My Presents Future Thoughts
This is just a passage of my feelings that have resurrected thoughts about my own personal philosophies.
My past and my future want to get acquainted, that idea I am not too fond of. I’ve been given the present as a gift, and I want to keep it sacred. Mostly because I am not trying to feel a scar from not giving enough attention to the “now“..
When it comes to the subject of our past it seems like his-story is yelling at me pleading with me to read it; on the other hand, it as though he solely feel in love with the cover of mine. Deciding to keep it in his pocket not only for show, but whenever he feels the urge to read it.
Taunting my past I contemplate how the depleted can feel undefeated. There are days I feel like Ali without the championship belt, still I find myself floating blissfully like butterfly with the zap of a bee. I realize I am a winner everyday because I wake up breathing. The problem isn’t seeing that continence in my future, the dilemma is I feel like my past is suffocating me!
This causing me to wake up at night; realizing my future is only a dream. In result of these thoughts I stay awake chasing aspirations. Forgetting that I cannot become complacent with the comfort of my memories.
In the avoidance of sleep I visualize sitting in the laundromat. I am being hypnotized by the washing machines, as if I am witnessing my soul on the rinse cycle. I call this flooded clarity; meaning there is too much water for my eyes to see clearly. Peculiarly the spinning cycle creates focus.
With the simplicity of complexity imagine a blind insomniac. Envision a big picture, trying to pinpoint a definition for color. Its not so much depression as it is disappointment. Basically, my heart isn’t necessarily guarded rather vigilant.
I hope that the next time I cross paths with antiquity, I’ll be holding destiny’s hand with eyes full of glee and fulfillment radiating in my smile. Once this happens my present will be introduced to my future, and only then will I introduce my future to my past. For now…I continue to transcribe my transparent impalpable ambitions.
–Leighrick
PROCLAMATION TRANSFORMATION 