New Diaspeay Clothing Line

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These Prophecies...

 What always gets the best of me and shall surely be the death of me is my destiny. My destiny's child is the legacy that was doomed from the inception. 

It was formed against me by an errection the lead to the conception of seed that left me to be the key to true prosperity and is meant to all of humanities best protection from natural selection. Wait, correction, Pro Tech Shun. Mindfulness in absence of a mind lost ages ago makes sense in theory only if it is accepted as fact by all of us as what drove me so far past mad in the first place in the worst place at the worst time to be in first place when bad guys alway finish first. Good guys finish last. But this is only the result of one lap, the last lap of so many laps that are exactly the same, right. So if life is a rat race where all lives matters, then all laps matter. What matters most is the amount of laps that you can lead in an odd race at the front of the pack of rats trapped in a time lapse without maps perhaps. Or is it A mind over matter matter for blind turns and to whom it may concern if the race's winner hasn't earned the right to learn what spurned this rat race. In that case, I hope I get lapped by the leader of the pack of each lap. I came to the race track to state facts and point out all of the mistakes we wake every lap and cant correct. So just fade to the back sometimes so I can't be backed from behind while going around the race track. Lets not get sidetracked. On my side I'm put on track by every lap i finish last on purpose just to focus on the purpose. Why leave things unfinished for the sake of laps the are just races too. The race of rats leading rats to a dark destination. 

All that was done to end the war to end all was with the ultimate weapon 

Finally affirmed firmly and condoned by the thrones via prophecies from hence to know about what was and wasn't about origin, but that was before recording practices had even begun. It was what had to be done. And it was fun which is why in real time in such a surreal way it could be described in such a way so criticality yet simple. And it was good. Seriously? With no context it's like that cigarette after sex. Take a puff and as you exhale the smoke exalt with confidence what time it is like talking shit was meant to be a part of the process. So we live for this shit? Wait who's shot? No shit? That's deep shit. And I love being encased in it for my own safety. I'll never complain about being stuck because everyone who escapes gets exposed. I'd prefer to not have my butthole probed by those who choose to bust a move as they Schoffed at it all which foretold it all leading up to the events the were meant to be reminiscent in the midst of darkness during a downfall so intense and obvious a war of power waged by idiots who too late realize THAT all shit. they all were powerless to resist all this shit. The most regrettably undeniable fact of the matter and that matters is this. Kiss. The. Ring. Bitch. So so suddle. So suddenly praying for my enemies is in again. High tops are back. It's the return of the mack. It's a flashback for those who stay off track. No not this shit again. I'm getting too old for this shit again. Italicized shit was there in the beginning too to put an emphasis on what's important and why we are safe encased in such deep shit. The original italic. In proper context it's the best there is the best there was and best there ever will be as the excellence of execution would poignantly put it. Slick shit. Which shit? This shit? No way. No how. I know now how like no how could ever find their way. There is no way of escaping us. This is why no one's ready to deal with us. This is a must. This is why what gets explained in such a way for darkness, light, war, peace, hate love, enemies, and such and such just is. It just does. It what's just. It's about lust. It's about trust. It brings out the best of us from the rest of us the equip the best of us with what it takes to take so much shit and the best of like living testaments. In my estimate, that's about it and all we get for all the resistance. It's not meant to interpret. It is safe to say we won't escape but make the most of our fate anyway. Anywhere. Anyhow Anything. Anytime. All the time, from every now and every then, from now until the end of time for and by the greatest of all these times is the best news of all time at the same time. A timeless classic told us all about this and these components. The heart of king

. The mind of a manic. The soul of Saint. The perfect document. The wrong format, so we will never be on the same page. Things will never really be the same because it literally was one and same in the very beginning. It was so good after the rest. Just shorthand the rest of which won't matter in the end. At the end of the day, it's night. You know it's the truth. It is the spirit of love.

That 4th Step Is A Doozy

Reflectiions II: My 4^th Step

 

 

Life is worth the fight, so I’m back at it again

I still don’t know what to do; it’s Round 2, me versus my reflection

Words are weapons, I use words to spite and smite

My sense of entitlement says I’m always right

I cheat and I lie to manipulate women

One wild, wily womanizer is what I have been

I try to be too witty, and I wallow in self pity

I refused to lose and used broads and dudes all over the city

I don’t practice what I preach, I really have no patience

I flip the script on family and friends with no hesitation

I will bend a friends ear, but I don’t like to listen

When a friend needs somebody to lean on, I can go missing

I’m wicked, I’m heartless, I’m viciously selfish

I’m greedy, I’m needy, I’m childish and helpless

I’m powerless, and sometimes I hate what I see in the mirror

But reflecting on my defects is easier now that my vision is clearer

#writerslife FML

Sitting in the dark on Twitter and melting ice

Mister Must Be Nice makes haters think twice

Of mice and men, it all depends

I'm back at it again, and I never pretend

Did I do that to be Urkel-whack on purpose?

Showing camels in Sudan summers what real thirst is

Still I feel worthless, words don't work no more

No grammar, no grams, no milligrams, nor metaphors

Internationally known on the microphone.

https://blog.ameba.jp/ucs/sptop.do

Sometimes I Wonder #5

https://youtu.be/ucVe9xOsY64

"A Letter To Younger Me" NEW POETRY 2018

This is addressed to the 18 year old Patrick Peay
I know you will understand because you are me
But you were unaware and blind to things you couldn't see
One day you will be truly set free

Try to behave yourself; don't get expelled from school
Pay more attention in class, and don't worry about being cool
Don't be such a rebel and bend so many rules
Never stop writing because God blessed you with that tool

Some of those women never loved you; they used you
They pretended to care, and then they abused you
I understand how affairs of the heart confused you
Just keep it real, and to yourself be truthful

Don't worry too much; those are petty frets
Believing in God's plan is your best bet
We certainly had our fun, and I have no regrets
But Pat, you killed my credit, so please pay your debts