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Ticking and Talking by GramAddict for the One Take Contest 2017



Artist Bio: Yea, so what? Most of the time we was growing up, we were homeless. I ain’t no sissy victim, hating on the way I was raised up. I’m saying the things my haters would say, if they could say things the way I say stuff, which is straight up; and yes my pops is incarcerated, has been since way back when, and no I don’t hate him. I just resent him a little bit, for not letting me be the bigger sibling I wanted to be for my lil’ sister and making me play the father figure instead of getting to stay young. Childhood? What is that? Could someone explain it?? Oh that’s where, year after year, you live in fear and steer clear of your peers especially the next of kin that reared and made ya. I know everyone caught whoopins on the way up and got spankuns, I ain’t saying I didn’t bring em’ on by thinking “Strangely,” but Lord, I’d take twice the beating on my face and cheeks if I could have somehow made a mistake in being an Atheist, and there really is a God to take away my sedated pain and anguish. God please be real and take this self-made man away to stay with ya. I’m done playing these games you’ve arranged on this pretty Planet’s face cause all I’ ve done is hurt and maim us. I think I’m misunderstanding what’s this all in the name of. Oh Omni potently Benevolent Creator; thanks for giving me the strength to placate and stay eight frames ahead in this mundanely lame game I’m made to play against my haters. I used to hate em, but they are who helped make me into a womanizing, self-righteous, game changing, aggravating, underestimated, gracefully blatant statement maker. Awe Hell HATERS, I didn’t know my real dad till I was twelve; cliché huh? More over, when I met him at twelve, he was on parole or probation. My moms hired and paid up a private investigator to find where he was laid up. I may be a half foot taller than my five foot six inch father, and I probably got a good forty six pounds on him; but we do share some of the same expressions in our faces. I can barely rhyme the next lines and say this; but I pray I don’t make the same faces he made when he sexually prayed on his nieces and raped them. That’s the main reason he stays caged up, eating our taxes; the main reason I evade em. I stay Willy Nelson to the B.S, straight Blazed up. My mom is fully half CRAZy; L. M. A. O. My younger brother was taken away from the “family” (end quotation) when I was age twelve, because my moms could only hate him. A handful of times I even angered my mom, just to take his beatings. I could probably write the black ink out of this pen rhyming lines about how many times mom said she should have aborted us, hated us, and probably didn’t even mean what she was saying. Shit, I’m crying away the pain as I’m writing it in ink, and I can plainly see the saline stains on the paisley pages. For all the times I wish I wasn’t alive or would die even if death is painful, I just keep thriving, grinding, and writing to get by day to daying it, even if mindless, lonely, and only going through the paces. Oops, another little teardrop spot in the way of what I’m thinking, I mean what I’m saying, I mean in the way of what I’m writing, I’ll just wipe it away and keep my ink pen in it’s “lanage.” The pen is mighty all right, getting my hand to scribe it’s own language; like ancient hieroglyphic wisdom written for the modern day layman, just something else for y’all to try and hate with. If you Christians believe in praying and saying graces, then you know the Lord giveth, and the lord taketh awayeth. In the Book of Revelations it says that, he who adds words to the Good Book will be added or cast into the Fire Lakes and he who taketh away words from the Good Book will not make it through the praised and sacred gates, which by my understandings’ and calculations; will only made by just a few, which is probably not me and you, face it. That fact and that last Ere in GramAddicts, are driving me crazy!! It’s plainly in your faces that this is in my D.N.A. make up; that the Aliens made my brain to stay inanely O.C.D. and over-thinking and knew exactly what they were making when they created me. Not the ALPHA A.L.F, the “GRAY” ones, the gray Aleins that speak with telepathy fluently and move things by using telekinesis. Oh wait, did I say Aliens? Didn’t I mention and say that I was Atheist?? Oh great! I let A.L.F.’s “meow” cat, out the bag, “Eighties kids” basics In this instrumental I’ve picked to demonstrate what I think of; there’s about seven bars left and like thirty more seconds to take up. Y’all keep listening to me make these blatant statements self-proclaiming, me being Atheist, ain’t that some crazy shit? I’m only saying it, since, these trendy Christians make me stay explaining it. all dogging on my Dogma, labeling me agnostic and Atheist and saying I’m making my way to Satan’s Pit. Even if that scene could really play out, all my hell bound bitches would show up at the flames irate and pissed with bottom lips pushed out in a pout, since I was taken away from them. They would make sure I escape and make a break for it, acting bratty and dramatically animated while saving me from a thousand virgin faces waiting on me to raise em, like the loving ladies I raised up, like the ladies that come into the flames to save me. When I left, my heart broke and they kept the pieces. When I have nothing left, it’s those pieces that replace me. I love in the moment, I love when love replenishes and reciprocates me. I grow love ten-fold for those that hold onto my heart and embrace it. I’ve only known a handful though, so I grown to know to accept that, no-one knows how to take me. #GramAddict

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