• "Okay. Let's start with a question that doesn't really have an answer... Why do we write fiction?"
    One of the older students, a guy, decided he was game. "To express ourselves," he offered.
    "Sure," Professor Piper said. "Is that why you write?"
    The guy nodded.
    "Okay... why else?"
    "Because we likte the sound of our own voices," a girl said. She had hair like Wren's, but maybe even cooler. She looked like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby (wearing a pair of Ray-Bans)
    "Yes," Professor Piper laughed. It was a fairy laugh, Cath thought. "That's why I write, definetly. That's why I teach." They all laughed with her. "Why else?"
    Why do I write? Cath tried to come up with a profound answer - knowing she wouldn't speak up, even if she did.
    "To explore new worlds," someone said.
    "To explore old ones," someone else said. Professor Piper was nodding.
    To be somewhere else, Cath thought.
    "So..." Professor Piper purred. "Maybe to make sense of ourselves?"
    "To set ourselves free," a girl said.
    To get free of ourselves.
    "To show people what it's like inside our heads," said a boy in tight red jeans.
    "Assuming they want to know," Professor Piper added. Everyone laughed.
    "To make people laugh."
    "To get attention."
    "Because it's all we know how to do."
    "Speak for yourself," the professor said. "I play the piano. But keep going - I love this. I love it."
    "To stop hearing the voices in our head," said the boy in front of Cath. He had short dark hair that came to a dusky point at the back of his neck.
    To stop, Cath thought.
    To stop being anything or anywhere at all.
    "To leave our mark," Mia Farrow said. "To create something that will outlive us."
    The boy in front of Cath spoke up again: "Asexual reproduction."
    Cath imagined herself at her laptop. She tried to put into words how it felt, what happened when it was good, when it was working, when the words coming out of her before she knew what they were, bubbling up from her chest, like rhyming, like rapping, like jump-roping, she thought, jumping just before the rope hits your ankles.
    "To share something true," another girl said. Another pair of Ray-Bans.
    Cath shooked her head.
    "Why do we write fiction?" Professor Piper asked.
    Cath looked down at her notebook.
    To disappear.
  • Deeperise - Raf ft. Jabbar

    💃🔊 https://youtu.be/9I16FhnSa-c

    🎶Tenime yazılmışsın
    Elimden ne gelir
    İçime kazınmışsın
    Beynim kalbime yenilir
    Çıkmadın aklımdan bir gün
    Yüzün hep, gözümün ucunda
    Kendini bi' duvar gibi
    Ördün karşıma
  • Look, I was gonna go easy on you and not to hurt your feelings
    But I'm only going to get this one chance
    Something's wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on)
    Just a feeling I've got, like something's about to happen, but I don't know what
    If that means, what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble,
    And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances
    You were just what the doctor ordered
    I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?
    They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rapbot
    But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes
    I got a laptop in my back pocket
    My pen'll go off when I half-cock it
    Got a fat knot from that rap profit
    Made a living and a killing off it
    Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office
    With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his nut-sack
    I'm an MC still as honest
    But as rude and indecent as all hell syllables, killaholic (Kill 'em all with)
    This slickety, gibbedy, hibbedy hip hop
    You don't really wanna get into a pissing match with this rappidy brat
    Packing a Mac in the back of the Ac, backpack rap crap, yep, yackidy-yac
    And at the exact same time I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing
    That I'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table
    Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half
    Only realized it was ironic I was signed to Aftermath after the fact
    How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack
    Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a Maxipad
    It's actually disastrously bad
    For the wack while I'm masterfully constructing this masterpiece as
    I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?
    Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard
    Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got
    Well, to be truthful the blueprint's simply rage and youthful exuberance
    Everybody loves to root for a nuisance
    Hit the earth like an asteroid, did nothing but shoot for the moon since
    MC's get taken to school with this music
    'Cause I use it as a vehicle to bus the rhyme
    Now I lead a new school full of students
    Me? I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac N-
    -W.A, Cube, hey, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim
    Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position
    To meet Run DMC and induct them into the motherfuckin' Rock n'
    Roll Hall of Fame
    Even though I walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames
    Only Hall of Fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame
    On the wall of shame
    You fags think it's all a game 'til I walk a flock of flames
    Off of planking, tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?
    Little gay looking boy
    So gay I can barely say it with a straight face looking boy
    You witnessing a mass occur
    Like you watching a church gathering take place looking boy
    Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say looking boy
    You get a thumbs up, pat on the back
    And a "way to go" from your label everyday looking boy
    Hey, looking boy, what you say looking boy?
    I got a "hell yeah" from Dre looking boy
    I'mma work for everything I have
    Never ask nobody for shit, get outta my face looking boy
    Basically boy you're never gonna be capable
    To keep up with the same pace looking boy
    'Cause I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    The way I'm racing around the track, call me Nascar, Nascar
    Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God
    Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton, no Asgard, Asgard
    So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent
    Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm totin'
    And I should not be woken
    I'm the walking dead, but I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating
    But I got your mom deep throating
    I'm out my Ramen noodle, we have nothing in common, poodle
    I'm a doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil
    It's me, my honesty's brutal
    But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though
    For good at least once in a while
    So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle
    Enough rhymes to maybe to try and help get some people through tough times
    But I gotta keep a few punchlines just in case 'cause even you unsigned
    Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime
    I know there was a time where once I
    Was king of the underground, but I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind
    So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine
    Appeal with the skin color of mine
    You get too big and here they come trying to
    Censor you like that one line I said on "I'm Back" from the Mathers LP
    One when I tried to say "I'll take seven kids from Columbine
    Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine"
    See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I'm
    Morphin' into an immortal coming through the portal
    You're stuck in a time warp from 2004 though
    And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for
    You're pointless as Rapunzel with fucking cornrows
    You write normal, fuck being normal
    And I just bought a new Raygun from the future
    Just to come and shoot ya like when Fabolous made Ray J mad
    'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Maywhether's pad
    Singin' to a man while they played piano
    Man, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channel
    So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day
    "Hey, Fab, I'mma kill you"
    Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed, (JJ Fad)
    Uh, sama lamaa duma lamaa you assuming I'm a human
    What I gotta do to get it through to you I'm superhuman
    Innovative and I'm made of rubber
    So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you
    I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating
    How to give a motherfuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating
    Never fading, and I know that the haters are forever waiting
    For the day that they can say I fell off, they'd be celebrating
    'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated
    I make elevating music, you make elevator music
    Oh, he's too mainstream
    Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it
    It's not hip hop, it's pop, 'cause I found a hella way to fuse it
    With rock, shock rap with Doc
    Throw on Lose Yourself and make 'em lose it
    I don't know how to make songs like that
    I don't know what words to use
    Let me know when it occurs to you
    While I'm ripping any one of these verses diverse as you
    It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' you
    How many verses I gotta murder to
    Prove that if you were half as nice, your songs you can sacrifice virgins too uh!
    School flunkie, pill junky
    But look at the accolades the skills brung me
    Full of myself, but still hungry
    I bully myself 'cause I make me do what I put my mind to
    And I'm a million leagues above you, ill when I speak in tongues
    But it's still tongue in cheek, fuck you
    I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel, I'm asleep in the front seat
    Bumping Heavy D and the Boys, still chunky, but funky
    But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling
    Angels fight with devils and, here's what they want from me
    They asking me to eliminate some of the women hate
    But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I have
    Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation
    And understand the discrimination
    But fuck it, life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then
    But if I can't batter the women how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?
    Don't mistake it for Satan
    It's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas
    And take a vacation to trip a broad
    And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard
    Be a king? Think not, why be a king when you can be a God?
  • "Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life."

    Bob Marley🌿
  • "But instead of feeling sorry for yourself do something 'bout it
    Admit you got a problem, your brain is clouded, you pouted
    Long enough, it isn't them it's you you fucking baby
    Quit worrying 'bout what they do and do Shady, I'm fucking going crazy"
  • Even when you know you want to do something, know that it will be good for you, that you’ll enjoy it when you’re doing it, the anxiety is telling you a different story. It’s a constant battle within yourself.
  • Gus grunted a painful chuckle. “How do you fight for something that’s already yours?”
    “People aren’t property, Gus. You can’t possess her. You can fight for her attention and maybe even her heart, and that’s enough to live out your ’til-death-do-us-part.”
    “I kissed you.”
    Biting her lips together, she nodded. “Total prick. I can give you womanly advice, but I can’t make you less despicable.”
    He set his beer on the counter then stepped closer to her. “You kissed me back.”
    She no longer berated herself for the way his nearness sent chills along her spine and heat to other places that seemed to crave his touch. “You said it yourself. Desire is not love. We’ve known each other less than two weeks. I’m young and incredibly hot.” Parker smirked. “You’re old and my standards are clearly a bit too low, so we’re physically attracted to each other. It’s just biology. ‘Carnal.’ Nothing more.”
    “Old? You still think I’m—” He took a step closer and frowned as he sniffed several times. “Did you step in dog shit?”
    Her confident grin waned. “Oh … um …” She retreated backward. “Not exactly.”
    Gus continued toward her.
    “Good night!” She turned to make a quick exit.
    “Parker? Did you shit your pants?”
    She groaned, shaking her head, eyes closed. “No, I didn’t shit my pants. Rags did.”
    Gus barked out a laugh. “Pray tell, how does a dog shit your pants?”
    Whipping around, she folded her arms over her chest. “Ha ha. He didn’t shit my pants. I sat in a pile of his poop.”
    “How did you not see—”
    “Just …” She held a flat hand up to him. “Shhh. Good night, Mr. Westman.”
    “For the record, Parker, I don’t find you all that ‘incredibly hot’ at the moment.”
    “Screw you, Gus, you hairy, gray-balled bastard.” She stepped over Rags sprawled out on the mudroom floor and didn’t look back.
    Jewel E. Ann
    of yaaaa fkgjdkgj çok iyi