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Die Trying

I dream a dream and if I don't get it right now the way I want, I'll quit and start over. #yolo

The Subtle Art of Pretending to Protest

in A Real Story/Die Trying/Unsatisfied by


As protestors flock into Washington DC for tomorrow’s (October 4, 2018) much larger protest than last week and the entire country believes headlines and what they see in photos with #hashtags, you probably should know the truth 👁behind what September 27th, 2018 was really like.

DC Protests are a likers paradise, a lurkers play pin, and an internet troll’s live dream post stream.

She was the E and I was the S, the last S in the word ABUSERS. On a true humid demon mosquito filled night in the south, I found myself in front of the White House with ‘peaceful’ protesters called the Kremlin Annex; they refer to Trump as Putin’s assistant. They had been protesting for 72 days straight. Each night a very dedicated group of what appeared to be seniors in lime vests holds up happily lit letters with a new word or phrase and a really cool smooth criminally guy sings in a mic while the letter holders do the wave. From “Cover Up” to “Perjury” to “Call In FBI.” With a mere 900 followers on Facebook and in a time of demmies and flatulators and #hashtags, it’s odd that no one really knows about the Kremlin Annex. They dance in front of White House every night for phucks sake. I showed up on the full moon’s eve of the word “Abusers.” KEEP READING👀

The Adventures of Albino Rose & Mocha

in A Real Story/Die Trying by

After the apocalypse they existed underneath the earth – the Albinos🐁, the once wases, and other erstwhile creatures that evolved into the dark from the last generation above🕳. Dancing in a cave to a found iPhone XX of the past📱and wearing patched up with thing-a-magier parts Beat headphones 🎧charged by the ooze from the old world danced the form of a small girl.

 

This track goes with the feeling of this article. N*ggas in Paris by Jay Z & Kanye West

She was lit by sporadic sparking electronics fossilized into the earth’s walls. She was jammin’ to some Jay-Z, but had no idea what ‘Ni**as in Paris’ meant. All she knew of Paris was from what she puzzled together by sunken-from-above phones she found along her many adventures in the pitch black and all she knew of Ni**s was she loved every song with the word in it. KEEP READING👀

Eat. Pray. Vagabond. – A Real Story. Almost 30. #NotLivingMyBestLife

in 30/Almosts/Die Trying/Unsatisfied by
The Last Generation, the last gen, thelastgen, mel blanchard gong, Melanie, millennial culture, vice, blunt thoughts, apocalypse, travel, kauai, adventure, hobbit, Gandalf stick, laws of travel, coming of age, instagram, butt girls, relationships, sex, dating, turning 30, aging, student loans, liveyourbestlife, live your best life, eat pray love, vagabond, real story, blog, editorial, real story, couchsurfing, napali coast, kauai sea tours, Princeville, queens bath, waterfall, finding Nemo, jurassic park gate, south side, poipu

I’m almost 30 and Instagram has officially has let me know that I am not living my best life. We’ve literally amazed the fuck out of life that nothing amazes me anymore. Everyone is #livingtheirbestlife, but yet why does it feel like I’m not living mine? I don’t even have Instagram.

Is it really that easy, to choose your own adventure?

If I could choose, then I would never turn 30.

In another life… I would be, do, see, love…. What about this life? Why can’t I do it all in this life?

With Instagram, it appears everyone is on a grand unexpected journey. Have you ever been to a party and later watched it on someone’s story only to wonder if you were at the same party, but then you look back and all you recall was them behind their phone taking selfies (you probably were too), and the devil inside you takes over and boom “that bitch is so fake.” KEEP READING👀

The west changes faster than the wild. The Harbinger Gorilla.

in Bitch Be Humble/Die Trying by

We just ate the whole cake. That’s right, if you watched IT, then you were just forced to eat the whole fucking cake without knowing what was underneath the frosting.🎂

Do you taste it? The after?… That flavor is a pallet that just doesn’t go away after a rinse; it’s the smell lurking type.👃🏾

The theme of this article is “what isn’t being said after it was all said.” Scared to be too late into the Glover dance analyzation game, after 5 days of rewrites, no sleep, and deep hesitation about what is wrong or right to say, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d rather fail big than fail small. I have to do what I feel. Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant broke the record for the most shots in the NBA, but what no one ever talks about is that they also have the most missed shots. You gotta keep throwing shit out there. I never want to hurt anyone and don’t intend to. If I’m wrong, then I’m wrong. Make sense of what you will, this is just my art, my rap track. Being culturally appropriate here at TLG. 👊🏽

Here we go. After eating Glover’s whole cake,  I drove through one of the blackest streets in America blasting Donald Glover’s This is America, something felt so wrong about publicly playing that song as black people glanced, like I was exposing it to cultural appropriation, and for playing it and not being black. There’s an entire conversation about Glover’s video that we aren’t having. What isn’t being talked about is, is it appropriate for a non-black person to enjoy the song and dance to it? What’s appropriate? Intention is. Moral is.

After cruising through the streets whilst during a media triad of Glover, the Met Gala, and Kanye’s free thoughts, this story came to me. It’s what I thought of, so I wrote it. Here we go. Fail big.

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Donald Glover’s This is America

The west changes faster than the wild. The Harbinger Gorilla.

There once was a King Silverback Gorilla. He looked after his own, kept his family safe from outsiders, and knew that his type were being hunted and on the verge of extinction. He could always foretell when danger lurked and taught others how to spot it. He was brave and in moments when an attacker approached, he would beat his chest, growl, and doing everything he could to distract the danger until his pack family could flee to safety. When he and his family weren’t running from poachers and had a moment to rest, he’d find a grassy patch were the sun shined and he’d begin to sing. His family would often join in with the hums and hoos. The King was growing old and was tired. He had a big heart and always hoped that the poachers from the West could exist with gorillas peacefully like the rest of the Wild. One day, whilst happily in the free sun, the King was relaxed and saw several poachers coming forth. Un-instinctually and sun-dazed, he thought “maybe if I showed them I was friendly, they’d come join and sing with us.” He started to hum and dance to distract the poachers, but his family got confused. “Why would King hum and not growl?” Because they followed King, the rest of the pack joined in and sang and danced in front of the men with guns. The poachers had never seen something like this before. “Gorillas dancing? What a rare thing to join in on.” So the poachers joined in and danced with the primates and even locked both their five-finger-hands, but as time passed and the gorillas were ready to retreat to the forest, the hums stopped and thats when the poachers were no longer distracted. It was fun, but unlike gorillas, poachers are carnivores and they had to feed with a their bounties. So as the gorillas waved goodbye and turned their trusted backs, a poacher made a monkey sound, “oo ah ah”,  KEEP READING👀

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