I was in my room having fun listening to the music and dancing to my own beat and now I understand the problem my body have with my mind. My mind see it one way and my body another, no longer like the waves in the water, I’m listening to flying private jet is the only thing I hear from Kodak Black, I hear him because he flow differently and I like his flow, anyway this muther fucker flying jets now, you recon he a muther fucking pilot and he done fulfilled his dream and imagine the next song on the radio now I hear him Kodak Black, way to go and my prayer for him is that he live a long life flying high above this mess that I really began to write about.
This bitch Anxiety has my head hurting reminding me constantly she here, but I fight her ass real hard trying to get her off me she a strong muther fucker too but I need that bitch to back the fuck up, now the weed done set in and my heart pounding real hard and I have to walk now, is this the last one will this one carry me out...
I don’t want to die I in front of my children, they don’t need that, something scar the brain...
The rapid heart beat stopped so I will come back inside but the fear of pneumonia set in to so you go figure...now I’m laughing at my self but still can’t relax because PANIC just got OFF my ass, now that’s one mean sum of bitch there, now go take a got damn spit because PANIC is like fighting a angry bear who ready to rape you right up the crack of your ass all while slapping you with his muther fucking paws holding you down and killing you softly, because there are no blows, no licks, no real blood shed, no open lacerations, no open ones because they are engraved in the brain, but can be healed, but it takes time and hard work and one willing to subject self to the torture of what may be the root of the problem...
That shit right there is the shit I deal with on a daily basis which leads me to the conclusion I need to be home so I can write this shit out of my head.
I need to clear my mind so I can sleep, I explore as much as I can before attempting to do a off, so with the aide of alcohol and freedom of expression I can go to sleep with ease...
I was trying to finish the moment when the song was playing and I was having fun and in my room dancing and feeling good and I thought about the fact I was having fun and that Bitch anxiety and her viler of a husband stress knocked on my door and all those bad feeling began to knock and when I heard Panic whispering, I left my room
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