Honnou

Rage. White-hot, angry rage twinged with a wistfulness that carries the potential to drown my will in pussification. I don't need happiness. I don't deserve it, no, but i also don't need it. It's always been me me me on my part. I mastered the art of breaking ties, severing emotion from what has to be done. It suits me perfect. This is my resolve. For the next week, this shall be my resolve. I shall wake up every morning and do push up while staring at this post. When i eat, before i go to sleep, when i'm in the loo about to take a shit. I shall live and breathe this resolve. For womanfolk is weak and but a weakness unto man. Clean cut ties with the two most troublesome, they with the highest propensity to torpedo my burj khalifa. The burj i sense i can be and beyond. Master the heart then master the flesh. Is it the other way around? The reincarnation of jesus said he'd mastered both. But he was a drunk. Here i am. On the precipice. Wish me luck. And see you'll on the other side.