Waiting for the beat to kick in, but it never does...

Other than saying I wish I was more like the woman to the left (SJP ♥), this post will not be so much about my words today as another's words which have truly inspired me.

The song below really struck a note with me the other day. It came to me at a time when I was thinking about the same things. (Except I was more worried about writing term papers than writing some mad beatz...)

What do you mean keep it real, could someone please explain,
when reality is just light interpreted by your brain?
And if mine and your perceptions ain't one & the same,
which one of us is normal and which one is insane?

The skin never forgets a deep abrasion,
yet your brain often forgets deep conversations.
This annoys me, due to the nature of humanity.
I want to remember the good, not just the bad things that happened to me.
And, yeah, I understand the mind's an intricate tapestry.
So is the skin and that still records damage, see.

This scar above my eyebrow is from when I was a kid
and my skin has kept record of the damage I did.
Twenty some years down the line from that very day,
documentation of the carelessness and the price you pay.
Yet, this over-complex brain that just sits inside of my head
can't remember the last things me & my friend J said.

I don't want to be just devoid of desire.
I don't want to be another bird on the wire.
I don't want to be just a log on the fire.
I don't want to be that at all.

I've got a heart rate that's erratic.
I guess god fucked up the schematic.
I can't hack it and I panic and that makes it go pneumatic,
causing landslides tearing at my insides.

Sometimes I think I'll live forever, but I know I won't.
When I really should be working on the flow, I dont.
I just sit here & read extracts from this note I wrote,
trying to find something that is worth a quote.

Fixing up mad bitches like lobotomy stitches.
When I hit a tight rhyme see my leg, it twitches.
I ain't into this game for the fame or riches.
Good to write tight rhymes, street poems and scriptures.

Now what's the point I'm making? Why I'm saying this out loud?
Am I convincing myself or pandering to the crowd?
You hear every word, you would still never know me.
Like Sean Penn could win 10 Oscars but he'll still be Spicoli.



(Rapper's Battle - Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip)