Toxic Slaves

I’ve never used drugs but everything that goes on in the drug war is toxic.

It’s like looking through a glass hole and watching zombies trying to find a cure for their toxic environment leaching on to providers.

It’s like watching a depressed dizzy king searching for a good thought, it’s toxic.

Drugs are an embarrassment to this earth.

Feed me real food.

Give me divine fruit, practicing doctor, not this witchcraft that drains the life out of me.

I want the good stuff.

Organic alkaline spices to balance out my PH levels to give me divine sight and strength.

Organic fruits and vegetables freshly picked from the gardens of infinite wisdom.

Give me clean music that gives me strength and courage to carryon. 

Give me purified friends and people who seek my better interest.

As I speak into the ears of toxic slaves, give me the force I need to set them free.

The people involved it this greasy dirty drug war are so rotten that everything they get involved with they corrupt.

The saddest part is that they seem so innocent.

They seem so religious.

Fighting for a way to kick the habit.

They attach to good people and literally latch on to them like leaches.

I’ve literally witnessed drugs destroy everything that I love and I’ve grown to hate what this world has become.

There is no innocence.

These people have no where to go.

They use Jesus as an escape goat when deep inside all they think about is a fix.

They get high and destroy the lives of innocent people. 

I want to be kind…

I want to love…

But the toxic slaves have turned me into a soul searching for the true light.

All my life I have watched drugs destroy every race creed and color.

I have seen people get rich and powerful and sit in high chairs dictating like they own the world.

I have been used and abused by people addicted.

These people have literally driven me mad.

I’m angry fighting these demons, they’re everywhere, I don’t know who to trust, who to talk to.

They’re doctors, lawyers, teachers, bums, homeless people, football players, basketball stars, rappers, they’re everywhere and they seem so innocent. They’re addicted to the fast life, burning every soul they touch. I watch them giving God filled testimonies at funerals while leaving a paper trail of dirty needles in bathrooms. 

Pleading with judges for justice, sick from their own medicine. 

This nuisance is the ruthless pit that breeds toxicity. It corrupts sex, and everything it touches.

God help me through this hell of a world.

I have watched even the noblest black and white men fall victim to this filth.

Sometimes it feels like I’m traveling through the underworld fighting to get to heaven because this stuff is everywhere.

It’s toxic, it has destroyed the lives of my friends, my family and it seeps into the lives of the highly accomplished because of envy and greed.

They’re attracted to the light.

God I want to show mercy but I’ve had enough.

Look at your creation, look how corrupt and sleazy we’ve become.

I’m alone in a room, I’m searching for strength that a false God cannot give me.

I have to let the omega power in to fight this beast with everything that I have. 

This toxic beast is all around me, it’s on TV, it’s at my grandma’s house, it’s at the corner store, it’s in my customers and it reeks like filthy rotten eggs.

It’s an imposter that feeds off of souls.

Cleans my heart God…

Purify my soul…

Give me strength in these dark hours because these leaches are all around me trying to suck the little that I do have.

Give me patience as I focus in on everything that this evil has taken from me.

Give me wings to fly and discernment to observe that which I may be too blinded to see.

Give me nobility.

Give me life…

I’m in a world of chaos in which only you can guide me through.

I’ve been fed false teachings in which only you can show me the truth.

Talk to me…

Give me divine knowledge to battle through the devilish ways of the common man.

In difficult days ahead..

Give me the sword of wisdom to purify this toxic world.

And as I battle my own demons, send me an army of angels so they do not take me under.

Toxic souls are acidic, they yearn to be purified with a diluted solution. 

Some toxic souls are so rotten that they dissolve pure substances instantly creating a river that stinks.

The smoke from this toxic river rises creating disease, pesticides, and pestilence that only divine nature can cure.

This toxic filth has given me a cold heart to sniff it out and I’ve grown weary of it.

My heart is heavy while watching this acidic midst kill and destroy everything that I love.

As I get ready for another battle with blood dripping from my sword and enemies all around me, may truth give me strength because the toxic beast has turned me into a warrior yearning to see its end.

Amen, Amun, and Amon.

Alpha and Omega strength to purify this toxic river.

Knowledge and wisdom to dissect and clean the flesh of toxic slaves.

Courage to set them free.

Black History Thoughts

It’s black history month and a lot has changed since the good old days.

A lot of people still believe that racism exist but some people have moved on.

Moving on from a brutal history has been very hard but not too many transitions are smooth.

A lot of people are engaging in corrupt activities and doing some very harsh things to survive, but just like all of God’s creation we must learn to be discipline over time.

Even fire must die down.

I’ve decided to stay humble this black history month and just be grateful for the things that I do have.

Maybe try and be a beacon of light in what many feel is a dark time.

There is some good in the world, so I guess that’s what’s important.

I guess the most important part about living is to keep a positive attitude, and just try to stay grateful for what you do have. Optimism is a gift that few people have but I’m sure it can be learned.

With Genuine Love ❤️

Today was a good day.

It was filled with genuine love and that’s  all I could ask for in a good day.

I spoke with my Aunt Rose and we shared some good thoughts.

I even got to bond with some cousins.

I sent out my much love shoutouts and I got to watch a halftime show filled with street legends. They looked so happy performing with older rap and singing wisdom. Time is humble.

I haven’t felt the touch of a female in a long time but sometimes that’s a good thing.

I’ve become disciplined and filled with God’s humble grace.

Today was a good day filled with love.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but today’s love was enough to get me through the week.

It was filled with Genuine Love ❤️ 

The Coach

I was introduced to this thing called sports…

I got to be coached by a coach…

It took me a while to figure out why the coach was always there.

In my sleep…

At my house…

At practice…

At my games…

In my classroom…

The coach was like my mother, teacher, father, uncle, grandpa, sister, aunt, grandmother and brother.

The coach was always there.

The coach believed in me.

The coach gave me a chance and put me in the game.

I don’t even think the coach had anything else better to do but coach.

The coach’s passion was coaching.

The coach only had one job, that could never pay enough because all the coach seemed to want to do was coach.

Every play I gave one hundred and ten percent because I believed in the coach.

The coach turned me into a believer.

Even when I lost the coach made me feel like a winner.

The coach.

Billions of People

 I think the animals are trying to tell me something. They keep coming into my house, getting in my car, and swimming in my pool. Yesterday a bear broke into my garage and stole my snacks. The birds are doing some odd things also. I couldn’t help but wonder if it’s just me or maybe they’re trying to communicate. I’m taking a run and I think this duck and his family are telling me to get the hell out of the way as they cross the street. What a day. Just like there’s billions of people, I guess there’s billions of animals too. I went hunting and it almost seemed as though they were hunting also. It’s a wild world we live in, wild.

The Movement

James saw his brother killed by the authorities. His friends pushed him and kept encouraging him to file a lawsuit.

Realizing the damage that had already been done, James went in the house ate some spaghetti and went to sleep.

The Movement.

Born into Oppression

This was my career, I was a professionally trained informant. On my first mission, I ended up having to arm myself after my transportation convoy was ambushed. Me and a few of my men escaped the ambush only to stumble into a part of war that we were not ready for. Running through wet grass we crossed paths with children and families seeking refuge. One of the children had been bleeding after falling from a fence into my arms. I began to comfort him.

“Little child don’t give up, I hear you crying,” I said comforting him rushing him to safety.

It turns out that we escaped right into a nearby refugee camp run by peacekeepers. Me and my men were determined to help. We introduced ourselves to the peacekeepers and vowed to help them so we called for backup and I volunteered to go out to try and save more people. I pulled my binoculars out only to notice the diabolic militant army dragging more people into the death chambers. “Oh my God, they’re burning and hanging them. ‘People!’”

I felt compelled by some unusually good force to dive right in and help. Noticing some of my men being dragged into the torment from the ambush, I fell to my knees in the pouring rain. All I could hear was screaming. Women being beaten until numb while the soldiers threw their children into the torture chambers. This was wild.

I sat in my safe zone trembling reaching for my gun.

The torture zone was fenced in with a small hole where some people had escaped. The screams grew louder as I got closer. 

“Oh God, this is a death camp. This is hell on earth.

This supremacy thing has gone a bit too far,” these were the thoughts that kept flowing through my mind.

“These people are exterminating races of human beings. This is crazy!”

Falling to the ground, dirty from heavy rainfall and sick to my stomach from the smell of human flesh being burned, the sound of children screaming echoed through my ear drums. Children from every creed and race except one.

I called for backup, I thought I’d been spotted. 

I had to regain my balance while shifting my attention to all of the human bones thrown in a large hole in the ground.

I then throw-up falling to my knees again.

I could hear footsteps getting closer but I didn’t see anyone.

The screaming got even louder.

There’s no luck in this camp, there’s no good, only torment and vibes of evil oppression.

At the moment I’m the only hope for these people.

They’ve been hiding only to get caught;

Screaming only to be tortured.

Begging for God’s help only to be shown no mercy.

I’m the hero in this story, this story has no end nor beginning. It only has a place in history. This death camp was all these people knew. The fact is that these human beings were being used, abused and exterminated. The moment we made it out we all became survivors, traumatized, never to forget. These kids and families out here had been born into oppression. This was all they knew, nothing more, in their mind they never comprehended triumph only torment.