running into traffic.

coffee?
dope.
chocolate?
dope.
cookies?
dope.
sprankles?
you all already know.
i get up early, neighbors,
and when i'm done tending to my terrier,
i'm an unholy terror in the kitchen.
true story.
i brought out the best of the beast yesterday,
and whipped the sh!t out of some mocha mayhem.
this is one for the flavor annals, y'all.
every wedge of that thick, rich, silky-smoothness
is like a south american flood-powered mudslide
destroying whole towns and removing all signs
of prior habitation...
but up on your tongue, though.
catastrophically delicious, my ninjas-
like,
i should probably measure some of this out,
or even write it down for repeated enjoyment in posterity.
...then again,
i'm activating these nutrients in the perfect moment,
and staying salty while savoring the sweetness.
huh?
was it pretty?
c'mon.
oh?
alright;
check the teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
SO pretty.
they keep eatin' 'em, so i keep makin' 'em.
and i'm getting better and better all the mutha-flippin' time.
it's the small gains that get it going,
and take it to eleven.
replacing a splash of this with that,
adding a scoople of some other other jauns,
stirring in a second tier of complexity,
and instigating and agitating all those ingredients
before they have to chill out and set up and unify.
i doo-doo that.
***********
warriors do battle, folks.
that's a thing.
not for right or wrong,
good or evil,
glory or power or whatever else.
they fight.
for no other reason than because that's their nature.
and nature wins.
every single time.
it's a knock 'em down drag 'em out slugfest
every single day up inside the raging cage i call
my chest cavity.
there's bellowing bursts of wind spinning cyclones inside
my lungs, sucking so hard, and blowing even harder-
there's pounding and pumping iron-rich molten ore
from the hammering forges and furnaces
to the far-flung reaches of my reaching fingers;
there's sh!t going on in there, neighbors.
mortal combat, just to power this mortal coil,
all so i can fight through every single day,
bareknuckled and barefooted,
walking towards the future,
and living to tell the tale.
i am grateful  for the time i have been given.
all of it;
never quiet, never soft.....