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The Way !
Woke up with directions; the way of the Hueman is when it has no money—when it has to not only depend, but rely on itself to live. Naturally, this is equivocal to 40 years from the book, as well as 40 days & nights; it makes hoodwinked and bamboozled more understandable.
There’s a hunting method used somewhere; after this, it will never matter. The method is to catch and not kill the animal hunted, which is a monkey (irony). The trap’s small enough for the monkey to put its paw, or hands, in the trap. The catch, or mechanism of entrapment, is food: a nut—walnut, coconut? The animal pokes its paw/s in to take the nut/s, making the paw too large to retrieve both from the trap. This is how they are caught.
Think about it—not a monkey, of course. This has been known for some time, both the trick and not being a monkey. But! are you not? Similarly, in the same situation; the difference is, it’s not the hand. This is the life. Stop looking at the finger.
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Hey seus went into the wilderness for as long as huemanly possible, forty days and nights. Not only the nuts, everything that kept him entrapped—addictions, vices, whatever. Anything binding the flesh. “It ain’t no fun if the homie O’s can’t have none.” So this sabbatical is supposed to be equivocal to the severance of the umbilicus; same thing? You think?
What about the monkey? It’s hungry or not; it smells food, or essentially knows it’s in there and how to get it. Food, a need for both. Empathy! It’s going to reach in; it has to. Or doesn’t it? Wonder if it thinks, “this is too damned e z”? Apparently not. It’s an animal. Sure! Maybe!
So, as it’s in its hand, does this trigger a harness to catch the hand? No! As told! By not releasing the food. Now, this used to be “man,” supposedly! Let’s check.
What would you do? Let go of the nut/food? Duh! Let’s say the hunter comes back later. It’s a trap. Why would the hunter come back? To check the trap, right? This is why it’s a trap. The animal had time to release the food. Wonder, in the course of time, does the animal release and retrieve its hand, just once, yo? Assessing the situation, yo, how monkeys do? Stick it back in to get the food, still unable to retrieve both. Huh!
This is where the camel through the eye of the needle takes shape. As the hunter cometh, there’s a dilemma: life or death. Avenue.
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Not death; they can be trained to get monies, or like tricks, or riding a tiny bike/trike, and other niga shytza. Yeah! Like the one that took you for a Jefferson last year at the fair. Lil’ gangsta thugs.
So it’s not a life or death situation—life or better/different life? All the food they want, clean water. Music! You’re not a monkey, an animal. Are you?
“If you pay too much attention to the finger, you will miss all that heavenly glory.”
It’s the trap, paying too much attention to the trap—or is it the monkey? Huh!
As the Hebros were leaving the trap, all types of free nuts were picked up on the way out. Only not. Plundered, peep def. Plunder: pillage, steal, when thou shalt not? Niga shytza.
It’s the trap, or is it the monkey? They still had not released the nuts/food. What had them trapped from jump?
Exodus 12:36, maybe! What was supposedly needed? It is written about “favor.” Really?
The “thing,” whatever, that had just performed nine, twelve of the most unbelievable plagues ever written, not witnessed, now has them acquire material things that’s going to make the load heavier while traveling to where there isn’t the foggiest.
Favor after losing a loved one? GIAM. Looking like a Tarzan movie.
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Kinda like this story. Who’s the monkey? Secondly! It’s materials, aren’t receipts written that anything built by man isn’t worthy of the creator, as they’re out in the desert, GIAM. Materials and the true creator are two separate situations. Gold to the creator would be similar to a bugger, turd, even that white stuff in the corners of the eyes when awakened? A byproduct of what the creator has created. Natural resources or byproducts caused by natural processes.
Who’s the monkey?
Along that journey in the book, it is written what happens to those whom couldn’t release them nuts. Read it. After Mo Mo came down off that rock. Also! If there’s time, read how yah boi sustains himself while in the “wilderness,” getting back, and who’s all up in his face?
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“Not bread alone,” it is written. Stomach touching outer lumbar. Listen! Grumbling! Angry! Highly upset, pissed off to the highest of pisstivity. Smooth with it. “Not bread alone,” it’s written. A pizza? Swear to Claude! Would’ve folded like a lawn chair. “Dude! And can I get that empire, that one there? Oh! What about that one right there, and that one over yeah? That’s the bombard right there, son!” Suckin’ on fingertips. Do the Dew, niga! WayzOut! Up against nigativity, forty days and nights off the reservation.
Mind you, this is the ruler, king, master, H.N.I.C. of every empire. Resist it three times; it will flee. It’s smarter than that now. Rec, rec, son. Or isn’t it? Tree is like ready, seta, go. Gnashing of the teeth describes (speculation) how it will send flesh bags in attempt (pun intended) to get one to change the mind. Being born into sin, with a percentage of decisions already made and those going to be made. Yah boi ain’t budged. In the game, peep it. The opposition only wants one thing (speculation). The serpent did only this: provided an avenue or option. Change the mind! That’s it. A choice had to be made, or not! Why? Let’s put it to the test.
Announce you’re about to drop a vice. “Doctor, done told you to drop pork, stop smoking, and eating ass (same ass pork?) all in one day; you should just ask, ‘How long do I have, doc?’” It doesn’t matter—anything that’s not good for you. Natural for you should be typed. As it is written, Eve stated, “Not the tree in the middle, or else we would die.” Something like that. How he (reptile) do? “Surely not!” he go. The A.I. of all his story. Alan Iverson crossover that’s still breaking ankles. Down and out.
The forty days and nights sabbatical in the book reports time away from A.C. (alternating current) energy. Off grid, peep def. Grid: grafting, matrix. Out or off of the New Testament back into the Old Testament, or direct current (D.C.). “In order to know, one must first un-know or not know.” —Bruce Lee. Bi-nese!
It has taken some time to place this in the puzzle. Another one about “being empty.” He is a prophet or Hip Hop God. Come on now. That came on the feed the other day. It’s so true, there were no words to add or take—no rebuttal. It fits just perfectly. Needs no adjusting, but let’s give it a #HHG here, here. With honor, “it reads no other before me.” Dare they go. Especially if it’s TRUTH.
That is how Hip Hop begin, 15 years. Children speaking, wailing some truth about the carnage and mayhem around them. Drugs, death, jUSt or lack thereof. A.I.D.S./HIV, etc., etc.… “There was loud wailing, for there was not a house without someone dead. It is written.” Different time, chapter, and perspective. Let’s throw dimension in so it’s not a 3rinity—you know how we roll. Oh! And testament. Seven D.D. are a mutha (wrath in particular).
Guess who commissioned this rec, rec?
Size it up. This went about tree (max) gens up, and tree back—the loss of folk! The #HHG are roughly tree to ten years younger than this #HHH gen. We view what took place then (15 yrs), the beginning of Hip Hop, as manna that was given way back when because of what it truly did. This is hidden, of course, so how could one know if it weren’t experienced? One wouldn’t. Or would they? Could they?
Technically, if it were possible to get all those cassettes, forget about it. Going tree gens this way and tree the other, there’s no concrete def of what it truly was. Is. Or is there? What if one could have the experience? Could be traumatic for many; liberating, haunting, exuberant, exhilarating. We would all have different descriptions of the same experience. Similar to trying to pick hey seus outta everybody. Forget about it. Why? Epitome of a custer fizznuck.
So! Who’s our favorite rapper? Really? Our favorite #HHG would be all of them. They all bring a different perspective to the simple Hip Hop experience. If one hasn’t noticed—and this is not to be derogatory—does it seem the greatest HHG are only in spiritual essence? Hypothetically! GIAM.
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Again, no disrespect to any among us—not a one. Those spittin’ true what we think we know as Hip Hop, peep how it became known as such. Had the power to move shytza with only words. Malcolm, Martin? Two M’s. No wonder. H8 the game. There are many that can, do, and did. Lots of them, as it faded into n dus t.
How can it be considered bringing back a thing that never left? It was hidden, exploited, saturated, to disfigure its true magnificence (lynx). But it’s still where it was left—exactly. True Hip Hop, the manna, peep def. Manna: ? We’ll w8.
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Waking up to this, while lying under the covers, there was a light. It was dark, and the blanket should be duly noted as thick; it was cold. After blinking a few times, making sure it wasn’t the static one gets after waking, yet it remained in the same spot. It favored one of the little plastic windmills from back in the day. It only had two so‑called blades that could be made out as it spun very slowly.
While attempting to see if this light is what was being viewed, questioning again where and what it could be coming from—going to the most logical: a light shining down on the side through the blanket, all while saying, you stupid for thinking that’s what it was because the blanket was too thick. Knowing this, maaaan! While viewing it—only it’s not there. Slowly peeking or pulling the blanket back to check for the light that wasn’t going to be there, because the blanket was too thick.
No, it wasn’t there. Quickly placing the blanket back, now twice known, it couldn’t have been shining through the thick blanket. There it was again, same shape, only it noticeably rotating in the opposite direction. Then this story flooded in, and the normal ADL’s had to be tended to.
“Born into sin.” A second nature, for lack of other terminology. “Sin!” Or the dehumanization of hueman. The reckoning has begun. Still calling it woke?
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So, it comes down to a simple question: whose fault is it? The logistics have been ran; now let’s kick the ballistics. If “born into sin,” this will only apply to those that were. What is going on—past, present/right now, and the so‑called future?
It isn’t your fault, yet it is your fault. Binese.
If ever asked by a principality, it isn’t quite sure the answer, assuming it’s not their fault or waiting for you to take blame. If one has a generation before them—mother & father—it is not your fault, not to be blamed at all. Now, if there’s a generation after one—children, nieces, and nephews—the innocence is then equally matched with fault. All are just as innocent as guilty, not one iota more nor a tittle less. Equality, like a further mocker.
This issue is said (hearsay) to be within—not assuming accountability or responsibility—yet assuming others are more guilty or not so innocent than others, when it’s the same for each individual born into sin.
Now, “we can assume,” peep def. Assume: suppose to be the case without proof; take or begin to have (power or responsibility); take on or adopt a (manner or behavior), sometimes falsely. There is one that wasn’t. Sure, why not?
The question then becomes, “What does he got to do with me?” Ask yourself. Go self! Or not. Just keep on assuming. Look! You’re grown—or appear as though. So why ask? Whose fault is it? Rhetorical.
Talking about equality, only to thunk? What’s the word or definition of what takes place here? Believe, have faith, or hope? Can we use assume until it can be understood? Assume someone has done all of this for us, individually or as a whole? Gave life for sins not yet even committed? And if so, not confirming nor denying, wouldn’t elder generations be in the same categorical situation? Just give it a minute.
These aren’t answers. They’re questions, because we not knowing—simply as that. Why this particular one? Assume and/or speculate all day, in such dramatic fashion.
Immaculate conception—somebody please peep def on this here. Basically means clean process of getting pregnant. Don’t believe it. Peep def, please.
How the story go? First was born or created from saliva/spit and dirt, correct? When this goes out of bounds, second was from a rib transplant. Third—and this is a 3rinity.
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Immaculate conception. “Look mom, no dad.” Hold up. Wasn’t there; confirm nor deny. There are stories of this happening long before the book? None have been confirmed, and there are no receipts. Could’ve been on a bathroom stall door. Don’t have the foggiest.
Seek truth, because it all remains hearsay at this point. This story just as un/believable as any other. Golden gossip, just like all the rest. Do you want it? (Truth) Mind you, you’re going to need it. Future! Rep reppin. The future without truth? Huh! Doesn’t that equal now?
We are here now, even as you read it—when, there’s no truth, or let’s type, not enough of it. You don’t believe this even after the disclaimer? Dig this. It’s (TRUTH) coming to now, presently, completely unrecognizable. “No one can SEE the kingdom…” technically unknown to self, basically.
Now there’s gonna be that crack head that knows exactly who they are; a pervert that knows; psychopaths? Anyone. Any one of us that knows, every one that thinks they know, that when TRUTH passes right in front of us—“Man in the mirror”—there goes the ghost or spirit. Ghost rep death. Spirit, life.
They know though, not giving up the 7Dd, because somebody done this for them, or so they’ve been told. Then, in another breath, will say, “Reap what is sowed.” Ya thunk? Talk about rude awakening. Who knows, one may just be able to pull it off. You think? Or would thunk read better? We don’t really know now, do we? Just going to take that chance, mou, mou. (Deer Hunter) Good luck with that.
This is insanity—speculative, but insanity. Let’s break it down to its simplicity. Natural or not. If not, prerogative! But come over to logic and attempt to get in. You can, but—and probably will—split tongue.
Remember, if your children go not natural, whose fault is it? Your parents? Their parents, etc., etc. Real talk. It’s not the children. They’re the victims of all fore generations. They are innocent until they become guilt of the continuation of that which is unnatural or not natural. Until then, the parent carries all the guilt, responsibility, of all past gen—gens—giving up innocence as not natural slitters through onto another or others. Not at fault until then.
All have been born into sin, and as the book and others state, it’s a vast and growing industry. We don’t have to stay in it. Only no one seems to be directing the way. Have you noticed? Assumption!
Confusion is the first rule of racism, and it’s prevalently heavy. There are only two (binary) races—this being an oxymoron within itself. Peep def race:? “Be water, my friend.” Species? One is natural; the other is not. Why think so hard? There are only two. Pick one and stay there—or not. Nature recs itself.
Sure! It’s probable to not know, considering the situation. But at this point, it was just read. You know. Let’s go a different route. Do you know which of the two you aren’t? Know—not thunk or think, believe, pretty sure. What does that even mean? Pretty sure! Definitely know, yo! To not know is considered not natural. Guess what?
Furthermore, natural is TRUTH. It has never lied—not even one time. The sun keeps this truth during the day, and the freaks come out at night—deceptive and convoluting. As the light shines, watching everything, knowing exactly when thing/s go awry—actually before.
Now it has been stated (hearsay), written? The sun/son has been swapped—celestial for terrestrial. Or vice versa. Notice the bi‑nism?
So, are you a monkey? Either way—whose fault is it? Some may, and this is special, say, “Oh! You think you know everything or think you’re smart. Cheq yoself.” One would have to know everything to make the statement, plus what another is thinking.
The middle. “The cup remains empty.” Being the first to inform them, I’m actually dumb as a rock. This is not think nor thunk; it is known. Real talk.
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As the time settles—time, you know—past and present coming together, you ain’t know? Thought err body knew this is what is presently taking place, among all the other fingers. Truth is coming—full steam ahead.
As demonstrated by the reboots, what about the insane request to and get this bring back? How can it be considered bringing back a thing that never left? Verbal insanity. Let’s type: it isn’t. My bad. What would you call it—obsession? Fetish? Sick? Not Hueman? Agree to disagree.
The rubber‑band effect. Back amongst the anchors. Mind you, this is as it appears, depending on perspective—just time. Mother’s at work, and she is busy as a bee. Something ’bout to get its ass handed to it.
“If one is focused on the finger…”
Past and present are shifting, naturally. To be healed, one must agree—know? What? Have some degree of intelligence? What? To want to be cured. When one sees that word on food, ever wonder what it was cured of? Have to be sick to be cured, right? Asking for somebody.
If you can’t handle the truth, let’s provide an avenue—because it’s coming. And get this: there is no thing, huemanly nor inhumanly, that can be done about it. Agree to disagree—it would be insane to even think one can or could, because it’s coming. Choo, choo! As they say, “it’s hard as hell to stop a train.” (Pun intended)
Gotta know—betta know you some truth, foo. Because we do believe this is going to hurt long time. Avenue. Know truth or not.
Nature (Truth) rec‑recs itself. Mother knows its trees—not 33. Knows grass. And she knows her own. Are you one?
Who’s the monkey?
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To be continued…
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