What in this war-ridden, wildly wicked, wasteful, worsening world would you do if protecting and progressing the whole wide world was solely your responsibility? What if God gets tired too? Who would save the Savior if they too needed a savior? Shit, humanity has a history of allowing savages to run rampant even when someone’s willing to sacrifice their own life for said savage-supporting sinners—who normally need saving. Remember, y’all regularly, repetitively consider casual conversations a sufficient solution for every exhaustingly exacerbating everyday Earthling experience that’s evidently repulsively ridiculous but not urgently in need of immediate reversal or reconditioning. And that’s despite you reliably, repeatedly giving the same shit all of your invariably ineffective attention—every day. Then, you act as if anybody who sees your tedious, talkative time-wasting tactics for what they are isn’t qualified to tell you how to waste your motherfuckin’ time if they’d rather retract and regress from a place of higher understanding than to spend their entire exhaustingly exacerbating life wasting their motherfuckin’ time talking about the same shit that’ll never change if people don’t stop wasting their motherfuckin’ time talking! In other words, sitting down and shutting up says something about who a person is. What’s more stressful than suffering through the same stupid shit often and ordinarily? Why would anyone aware and astute try to talk purposely perpetuated problems out of existence? Man… y’all time is up! All the educated entertainers and pontificating personalities have had their fair share of tedious, time-wasting talks. Notwithstanding, I don’t expect anyone to simply sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up just yet. Because even the petty, puerile, pathetic pharaoh from Moses’ suspiciously similar story had to lose something and someone significant before he surrendered, sat the fuck down, and shut the fuck up. Which queues the query, how many more of your friends and family members must mysteriously meet their maker before you pay attention to the predictable patterns associated with the crazy conspiracy centered on me? In theory, fear forces folks to figure out survival strategies. And in this case, physically fighting for your survival won’t work. So, y’all best be brainstorming through the brainwashing, because Beau Amoureux (Chocolate Christ) will overcome and outlast regardless. Anyhoo, “Lady,” sup, love? Girl, I wasn’t supposed to survive this or stay sane through it, but I’m the answer to your patient prayers because I’m a pretty powerful person. I realize that my mighty mind is so powerful that I should stop assuming that what I want won’t work out. Yet, even through doubt, discouragement, disbelief, and the Devil’s deepest deceit, still, I rise! What’s more, in the words of Willie Hutch, “I… ooh… I choose you, baby!” Sometimes, when writing, lyrics make much more sense when you’re familiar with them. And even though the rest of said song’s lovely lyrics don’t match our complicated connection completely, I’m sure you get the gist. The first time I saw you, I said to myself, and I’m paraphrasing, “It’s like somebody took this big-headed beauty right out of my mind and tossed her onto my totally taken-over timeline.” The more I saw you, the more familiar it felt, which is natural when seeing something or someone regularly and repetitively, but this was different. When the allusive attacks and subliminal slights kept coming, you evoked my most emotional response. Everybody else only annoyed me, but you made me mad, and I didn’t understand why until I thought thoroughly about it. We really need to talk, ma’am. Again, I’m only politely profane and hardly ever raise my voice. I always avoid arguments, but I make really reasonable and respectable ones when it matters most. Like I said, neither of us are crazy, because this is the real reality. And in reality, especially for us exclusively, we wouldn’t even know each other if we weren’t meant to. With that, I’ll happily, hurriedly take myself off the market if you do. For everybody but my lady, you’re invited to mind your motherfuckin’ business and enjoy my wonderful writing while watching for warning signs and heeding this heads-up, because the whole wide world is about to be ushered into totally transcendent territory—by me! Yes, being the only one is all it’s cracked up to be. “Lady,” in my mind, it was always you and it was always going to be you. But bae, repeating as a reminder, I am a pretty powerful person and a promising poet with prophesied preeminence and your God’s greatest gifts, so make up your mind before I see someone else who may evoke emotions, please. Dang! And soon…
Omniscience