Drafty Thoughts


I been starting alot of drafts im unable to finish lately. I dont know what i been tryna to express, how to express it or who the fuck to express it to. But this is the closest ive gotten to an umbrella of all of it. Its called Drafty thoughts because its the best unfinished draft in description of all the unfinished drafts ive written lately. Check me out.

Drafty thoughts

My best expression of myself is an incomplete one.

I know who i am but dont care to display him.

I know how i feel but dont care to convey it.

Who can reciprocate a distinguished authenticity?

Who can reflect my genuine heart and my objective mind?

My resilence is unmatched.

How can i explain the convolution of my doings when its beneficiaries aint even receptive to what ive done in my simplicity?

I dont even care show my worth and value to this world.

I dont even care to share my vision. I dont even care to speak my resolve.

What can u show a blind bitch that she may she?

What can u tell a dumb nigger that he may hear?

This life aint for me and i know it now greater than i always have.

The expressive reflections of myself are futile in any expectation of a relative response. 

This life aint for me and i know it now greater than i always have.

Im as rare of genuine character as Jesus. 

My Kings presence on earth was not welcome as a king’s would or should. His wonderful work and teaching warranted vile, his torture and his death.

If i assess myself of his likeness why would i expect anything less?

How can i expect back the puré agape love that i feel. When the people in the fuckin world are incapable of even receiving it?

Ive realized that the expectation for my character’s recognition, and its  reciprocity to be futile and unrealistic.

This life aint for me and i know it now greater than i always have.

The arrogance of rich men is equivalent to the ignorance of a poor women.

Neither know shit of true substance but Both know everything of Vanity.

How can u add to true valued contents to a vessel full of shit?

What is the value your tangible contibutions into vessel full of shit?

Its not rhettorical questioning… its literal.  The answer is nothing (but maybe literature) in both cases.

This life aint for me and i know it now greater than i always have.

So i just keep my truth, my knowledge, my insight, my direction, my ideal, my substance, and my will to my fucking melancholy-ass-lackmorose self and write it into Whatever instrument immediately accessible.

My generation couldnt dig my complete thoughts when i buried it shallow…

Maybe the next life will tomb dive for the scribes of my drafty ones.

Im gritty.


About The Gritz

Ideally I aspire to be a Tyranny of Business and perspective. I cant tell you descriptively how I feel... so I'll tell you the depths of my thought. thanks for reading. https://thegritz.wordpress.com

Posted on 10/27/2013, in Mark Anthony Howard, Prose and Short Poems and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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