· It started off great with a promising pad that was incredibly absorbent and then the flow stopped half-way, which left an extra supply of reinforcements that were needed to taunt the possibility of a rerun.
· Relationships withered while new ones cropped up in unexpected places. Familial ties became distorted and violently incomprehensible. Bonds tied during youthful excursions had to be relinquished for the sake of health and sanity.
· The culmination of sacrifices made for the pleasure of owning a particular lifestyle hit highs and lows with the lows keeping me under a blanket with holes that taunted the air I tried to breathe. I released my best words and tried to sell them but the buyers only wanted to sell them back to me for a cheaper price. So, I settled for comments and activators and became wealthy in love with what we can all do together — if we just try.
· I came close to being homeless twice and each time I found my way. You never know the value of “the flow” until you end up unprepared and bleeding anxiety as you ponder how this place is going to keep you comfy until you hit the lottery.
· Amusement parks are fun until the joke is on you. A dream come true turns out to be a nicely-devised nightmare. The writing gig was actually a run through of what the Olympics of social media would look like if you won more retweets based on your uncanny ability to tweet.
· Assholes aren’t just White men who enjoy leaving everything in their paths colorless. I can share that title for being exactly that.
· I didn’t vote and I feel crappy about it. I was too tired and lazy to pick a woman that I don’t particularly like. The worst happened and I was secretly joyful because I’ve actually grown to hate America.
· The vices that take you outside of yourself while soothing the terrors of a good night’s sleep have become a habit that I can break but refuse to because I want to overwhelm the peaceful yearnings of a good morning.
· I’m not afraid to die anymore because the prospect of heaven and hell came to life this year and I believe that I embodied both mindsets rather well.
· I love with a full heart and I would give you the world but the world is starving me so I have very little to give except the graph of what I would’ve given if only the love you gave me had measured up.
· There is always a middle ground and the point of return has always been Medium and the ones who received my vision with refreshing vitality. When I publish — the skinned spirit rejuvenates and suddenly the possibilities flood in. My writing proves that Black America is still black and I’m blacker because of it.
· Silver-haired ladies aren’t as boring as you think and perhaps it’s time I test that theory.
· I know who I am. I have no idea who I am! I definitely know what I’m about. Shit! I have no clue what I’m doing. Okay, I got it. Fuck! I’m so lost it’s not funny. Yes! I’m doing that! God! What the hell am I doing?
· I’m doing me. It’ll cost me. But, I’m going to keep doing it anyway.