The fortitude of productive solitude

There’s a restlessness about me;

Like I know something is coming and I’m growing wary of waiting.

Know this shit’s about to be amazing, but the anticipation is driving me crazy.

Recovery got a nigga lookin’ hella lazy, but the hateration honestly doesn’t faze me. Probably because Iim usually faded, but honestly, I'm not even remotely lazy. 

I have been blazin’ all morin’.

A better look for better performance. 

Constant practice is very important to strengthen any tool to perfection. 

Bitches even beat their face for a better complexion,

obsessed over minuscule imperfections,

a masterful manipulation of aesthetic predilections

Productive solitude might change your attitude.

The Buddha said, “There is no consciousness without conditions...”

I feel guided to add…

there’s merely the madness of conditions remembered, feared, revered, and distorted.

Desolate with only darkness reported.

All calls for help retorted with cold, dark silence.

Bite yourself to fight back the violence.

There’s only yourself to victimize, think thrice.

Think of it all through Karma’s eyes.

Keep searching inside; I promise, you'll discover your true self in time.