3rd August 2011
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It started with a passion like never before
A heart once broken, allowed to soar
Laying beneath the stars, all felt right
No end to this wonder could ever be in sight
The kiss came from nowhere
Perfect and true
The pieces were picked up
You were the real you
The enemy emerges
Formidable and fierce
The mended, once broken heart
He slowly begins to pierce
Laughter becomes shouting
Comfort becomes fear
The foundation begins to crumble
The inevitable becomes clear
An all the while in the background the enemy grins
Your perfect plans are ruined, it’s all coming to an end
Passion is eroding
Apathy sets in
The enemy is decoding
Your inner soul again
And suddenly it becomes clear
27th March 2011
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Common rap themes:
-Excessive Material Wealth
-Objectification of Women
-Pride towards hometown
I figured, what if I turned these upside down and instead used their contrasts?
-Ridiculously low self-esteem
-Quixotic treatment of women
-Being a wimp
-Hatred of hometown
…and subsequently wrote a rap about it (utilizing the same stylistic tendencies of hyperbole, vulgar language, and rhyme). Here’s what ensues:
by The Paragodox
I approach the lovely lady outside Chili’s Bar and Grill
Hope I don’t destroy this first date, ya feel?
I stammer, Hey there Miss, how do you do?
Would you like me to open that door for you?
Oops I tripped on my way to the handle…
To a paralyzed klutz boy, I hold a candle
Fuckin’ Mademoiselle, shall I pick up the tab?
Here’s twenty dollars, all that I have
I’m so poor I make my dead bro look rich
Damn, I just dissed him, I’m a fuckin’ snitch
I haven’t had a girlfriend in fifteen years
Probably because every date I break down in tears
She asks me “Yo Parago, what’s the matta’?”
I say, “Pardon miss, my heart’s been shatta’d…”
She tells me to grow some muthafuckin’ balls
Water be flowin’ down my face worse than bathroom stalls
I run to da bafroom, take a look in the mirror
Shit, My clothes be lookin’ worse than a baboon’s rear
Runnin’ back to her I find she done left
I stood there and took a goddamn breath
I smiled at the waitress who returned a glare
I reach into my pocket, nothing was there
Couldn’t leave a tip, so I ran up to da fuckin’ fair lady
Gave a fuckin’ kiss on the hand, got hit harder than Tom Brady
I sighed as I walked out and cursed my sociability
As for tomorrow, masturbation in tranquility
27th March 2011
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The dreams I made still have you in them, because you come swimming into view, and I hang onto your words like I always used to do, the words you used so lightly, I only feel for you, I only know because I carry you around…in the background.
Because I felt you long after we were through.
18th March 2011
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- Reason is how we live our lives.
- We spend our lives attempting to be “normal,” attempting to “think the right way,” attempting to “be reasonable.” But to what end? Society tells us that it is acceptable to think a certain way about things, lest we be scoffed at and be labeled irrational. Being reasonable beings is certainly the hallmark of our species, so why should we fight it? We should celebrate it, embrace it. After all, it is through the process of reason that mankind has accomplished wondrous feats in philosophy, science, and mathematics, to name a few.
- Then process of reason is a predictable one. It is comforting. You base your conclusions upon premises and arrive at an answer. The answer makes sense. Just about anyone would agree that it makes sense. It’s the right thing to do. We can breathe a sigh of relief. I’m sick, so I can skip work. I just go paid, so I can buy that new car. I have an A, so I can afford to procrastinate on this assignment. All is good in the world. As we all too often figure out, though, things that are comforting are rarely satisfying.
- There are moments in one’s life when one is struck inexplicably by a moment of genius. When one’s thoughts are so consumed with an idea, so entrenched with its perceived validity, so impassioned with its possibilities that literally nothing else in the world matters. Think of a basketball player who is “in the zone,” or “unconscious.” He hoists shots towards the basket without considering form, follow-through, or fundamentals. They go in, seemingly by magic. This is madness, and it applies to all forms of expertise.
- In a sense, madness is the reward we receive both from dedication to craft and the gift of our talents. Guitarist Eric Johnson described his Grammy-award winning instrumental track “Cliffs of Dover:”
- “I don’t even know if I can take credit for writing ‘Cliffs of Dover’ … it was just there for me one day … literally wrote in five minutes … kind of a gift from a higher place that all of us are eligible for. We just have to listen for it and be available to receive it.”
- Talent and dedication, two seemingly contradictory concepts, seem to merge as the formula to attain the genius that is madness. Eric Johnson spent his entire life pursuing his talents, and he was rewarded, seemingly from above. In this sense madness is something we can strive for, something we can hope to attain.
- The notion of “conventional wisdom” dilutes the potential power that madness can have. No knowledge is permanent. Ask Isaac Newton, who infuriated the church with his scientific inquiries. Ask Albert Einstein, who shifted Classical Physics (coincidentally developed by Newton) downward with his Theory of Relativity. We must inexorably, permanently, strive for something more. Madness is how.
- In this sense, madness is our gift. Indeed, reason may guide the ship, but passion must always power it. After all, sober sense is merely that: Sober. Plain. Subdued. No one may know why we are here, what we are for, and where we will go after our lives are done with, but we cannot methodically drift through life doing what others would think is reasonable or acceptable. We aren’t them. We’re individuals. We have individual talents. The synergy of our collective manifested talents can never be neglected.The world will only be what it can possibly be if we consider the power of madness.
- Socrates, himself a man of reason, said it best:
So, according to the evidence provided by our ancestors, madness is a nobler thing than sober sense. Sober sense is merely human…whereas madness comes from God.