This January has seen its fair share of heavy weather, be it snow, flood, or tornadoes.
The UN has pledged to send more fire power and tanks to Urkraine.
Russia.
The dollar is inflating beyond measure, yet everyone still wants to be a millionaire.
Black death has stepped out of the music video and television and it is now running rapidly in real life. Whether it’s police executions of American citizens, the darker other, or local rivalry, it’s every day, everywhere, and all the time. By now anger has turned into muted screams. Like in a terror movie, where the protagonist suffers from psychic attacks
It’s the be cool, live your life, but keep your head in the ground like an ostrich, to not see, too much, or know too much, like burying of sex trafficking, or the new law to give 12 year Olds abortion pills in New York.
Aren’t I a woman, how can one say this sincerely, in this time when the word “Momma”, can be heard so clearly.
This world, where everyone sits with phones reading the same script given to everyone. Who is anyone anymore?
Truth tellers, like the prophets in the Bible are silenced into obscurity, with a truth so real no one will hear them speak. However we are hyper exposed to the denomonic tropes that run freely into a Spring of its own making. Using Word like under taking, clauses that cause war, cutty metaphors that provoke scores. Big talk like the one that writes blank checks, because they don’t exist in action. Put a caption on that bring the lights and make it happen.
Gossip stirs and people become less than the people who hate them. Other haters won’t debate them, but inflate the conversation with riff, raff, but misery loves company and all of that.
Lawlessness like the wild, wild West, a time where everyone’s character will be put to the test. A spiritual war at best, battling the mind, no less.
Jesus is the way, the truth and the light, don’t let the sun go down without getting your life right.
URBAN GYPZY 