SaturdayVibez: Egospeak.

I been wearing the same clothes for years. IG lurkin on myself made me realize how versatile a broke nigga can be. Weather always stormy my way, Horrorcanes always in the forecast. Regardless though, I still got family that fuck wit me. My own blood. Mind and flesh of my own.

To steal a line from a rapptress, I owe myself the biggest bankroll for going through. The jealousy, the hate, the mistreatment, disrespect all come with dealing with people. That’s just how some of ’em is built. Regardless though, I still got friends that fuck wit me. My own girls. My homegirls.

I ain’t never been fresh, so I don’t understand how everybody knows what to buy. I’ve seen so many clones with years on years of trends, so IG isn’t really helping my situation. Nobody knows how bad I want the things I think about daily. Ain’t nothing wrong with wanting. But what I can’t help but notice is that every time  I get blessed, when the moon is nice & blue, I don’t get excited. I don’t jump for joy. I’m flying on a wing and a prayer and a blessing to me always feels like  a break. From stress, from bs, from sadness, from running this godforsaken race of life. Why is life a marathon if we’re all just gonna die anyway? What if I wanna win?

I displaced unpleasant memories in an onyx ring and strutted across the stage in Spring of seventeen. This reoccurring nuisance comes from people who think I owe them something. People I once lived to please created debts for me and told me nothing. No credit checks, no Carfax, just egospeak.

*Egospeak (n.): The result of feeling threatened by the words or actions of another. Often takes the form of yelling about what you not gone do, variants of the classic “who you think you are?” and sometimes, illogical acts of violence

see also, talking out the side of your neck

I been making struggle look damn good. So why would I suffer more to please anyone? Fuck your ego and your couch. I’m MochaLuv, b****.