“It’s just me against the world!” Drama-desiring, death-dreaming, trauma-taking, tough-talking Tupac took thuggish tendencies to the grave, literally. Which queues the query, were the long-lost lyricist’s life-loathing lyrics a sign of serious suicidal ideation? What if Tupac thought that he didn’t deserve to live long? What if he hated himself for fucking up frustratingly frequently? What if he was a mad master of manifestation who got exactly everything that he regularly, repetitively believed belonged to him through his intentional, insistent acceptance of the worst possible circumstances and consequences? With that, what matters most—thoughts or actions? “I’m not saying I’m gonna change the world, but I guarantee that I will spark the brain that will change the world.” And “spark” is exactly what the deceased dreamer did to big-brained Beau’s tremendous thinking thing. I’ve learned lots of life lessons by simply seeing stupid shit that made me wonder why anyone would constantly, consciously choose to take the wrong way—the pitifulness-promising path—in every everyday Earthling experience. Peer pressure, trends, traditions, and a corrupted community consciousness are common causes of steady stupid shit in society, as I’m sure many will agree. So, how critical are communities with a corrupted collective consciousness? Better yet, if everybody’s stupid because everybody’s stupid enough to follow fools, why follow? For the record, for the umpteenth time, again, remember, repeating as a reminder, once more, like I said, fuck all y’all! If I’m the Almighty’s ace, what the figgity fuck do I need a flock of foolish followers for—to fuck up my future and prophesied predominance? Nah! Standing solo is a trademark trait of mine. And as awkward as I was prior to possessing more maturity and an ultimate understanding of human habits, I never spent significant amounts of time trying to fit in. There were times when I thought that not needing acceptance, approval, or attention to feel worthy was a sure sign of a lack of empathy, so I tried to feel folks more, but because I saw so much stupid shit before I was even 16, trusting that severe stupidity was completely common made me comfortable circumventing congregation and communion. Babies and growing grown-ups, please be unafraid to be unalike. For the like-minded life lovers out there, save your sanity! Let everybody else stay stressed while being fake as fuck, striving to show off, practicing pleasing people, and eagerly exceeding everyone’s extraneous expectations while you rendezvous with real, respectable, relatable people or remain alive and well alone. There’s nothing wrong with being “not normal” when nothing “normal” seems right or matches your heart’s deepest desires, right? What’s freedom without free will? Are you supposed to settle because a severely stupid-ass society said so? Nah! Anyhoo, does this lovely lady look familiar to you, “Lady?” Anew, underlined words are safe, secure links to revealing receipts. Does that doppelgänger diminish your doubts about all I’ve said so far? Girl, I just be minding my motherfuckin’ business, and boom—bombardments of bullshit. Shout-out to comedy cutie Lexi Kennedy, who is on my totally taken-over timeline all the time. I wonder why, “Lady.” Also, shout-out to the “Lip Service” ladies. Y’all, I’m tearing Tinseltown to the fuckin’ ground! Why? Well, it’s for the greatest good, and I got your God’s good graces, his worship and well wishes, and his holy helping hand—allegedly. Aspirations aren’t always aligned with what God’s got planned for any particular person. So, someone can succeed at something that they’ve aspired to accomplish without aligning with God’s predestined plan for them. However, I can confirm that countless commonplace content creators, casual citizens, and celebrity co-conspirators are currently precisely where God purposely placed them. So, congratulations, collective of co-conspirators, as you were certainly chosen to assure that I’m always aligned with my angelic assignment. I mean, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, right? Am I showing signs of slowing? Do I sound idiotic and incompetent or unsure and unconfident? Doesn’t my wonderful writing scream “we have a winner”? Just so y’all know, the “Golden Child,” the “Golden Ticket,” and the “Golden Glow” all refer to one lucky lad’s favor from above. Sarcastically speaking, I wonder who said lucky lad is. And soon…
Omniscience