Work it, Give it, Live it.

Is it a possibility to say that Donald Glover is a twisted version of Common? Whooop, just did. A legacy-to-be and a legacy, there’s no comparing just similarities. Rappers, actors, writers. Both serious in their music, but one funny-goofy in his acting. There may be many more like them but they’re the ones I decided to study. Common with his socially conscious lyrics, Childish Gambino with his self-revealing words. 

  This is for all of the homies I’ve done wrong. Just left in the ashes of their existence. It may be partly because I’m ashamed, but mainly because I like to take my time. So my reflections show up slowly. But I’m hoping time is on my side to one day personally apologize. Until than, take these words as my repent. After all, they’re all I’ve really got to give.

 So these words and the ticking of the tock are all I’ve got. That’s selfishly all right because when I tried to do it right, only cast off I was.

So these words are all I’ve got to listen to me at the end of the night. They’re what I’ve got when I wouldn’t give it up to him or her or it. Besides Lucy, which is the reason I’m writing these lonely words of collection. She has given me self reflection, which has led me to world contemplation.

But while I gave it up to Lucy and Molly and little Jane, I gave myself back to me. Myself being a continuous cycle of death and rebirth As I first learned to breathe and live. And although many people can’t see it this way, I’m specifically talking about J. Tizzle, tonight Lucy got me acting in my right mind. My right mind being conscious of myself and my surroundings It might have been bended a bit but I observed so many others around me with a straight forward mind that were uncomfortable with themselves, their body and time. 

They heaved me off their shoulders when they didn’t approve of the way I spent my time. But on I spent it, anyways, dancing to the beats and the words created by another. Many spent their extra time talking, actually gossiping (which is its own form of talking) of those around them instead of doing what they said they wanted. So I moved around the sea of yapping fish, lost in the blue, lost in the time given to me.

Everywhere I went, I found grunts and rolling eyes, but I also found random strangers not afraid to let go of themselves. Dancing through the night. Dancing to the creations of another but still with a beat of their own.

Because of Lucy, that dim-witted illusionist, I realized dancing and these ticking words are all I’ve really got to give, and all I really wanna give.

So take my wordy dance of repent, because it surely is my salvation. They’re how I’ll live consciously tomorrow. They’re how I’ll love and laugh and eat.