Insomniac Kid with big dreams Born under the sign of the Bull. Professional Loner. Island Child. NCSU student. I rep that group of sleepless kids:
I.K.T.G.T.T.A.
Insomniac.Kidz.Tumblr.Gang.Troll.Them.All.
Tumblr Crush
Journal of The Kid Named Solo
Tangible to the eyes, Intangible to the hands
Tickle My Brain
The Library of Solo
Lets play "Follow the Solo"
The book of many faces
Nudes are accepted
Black thoughts covered up by white lies.
Majority can’t tell me i’m blind with what I’ve seen with these brown eyes.
Real eyes realize real lies,
Guess these average niggas are just the blind following the blind.
I Stevie Wonder sometimes if I
Should break the ignorance,
But the truth would just be something belligerent.
My intelligence is something that’s unseen or just goes unheard.
But I am just the alpha wolf in sheep’s clothing, secretly leading the heard.
How absurd of those who try to be bold, when they’re just merely italics.
When they don’t know my words are just something so heavy and metallic.
So when I speak all I hear is click-clack, my mouth is the AK.
Triple K metaphors, leaving niggas hanging all day.
But untrained eye, I’m just a young black youth that wants to floss some gold.
Raps instead of poems are the only way my stories can be told.
But you’ll never hear this shit played on the radio.
The FCC doesn’t want my message on your stereos.
So I’m forced to commit hate crimes,
through my metaphors and strategically placed rhymes,
when my black thoughts are beatened up on these white lines.
(Source: theonlysolo)
love to complain about shit that don’t need to be complaining about. I swear someone is always in their feelings about something that they can easily avoid, or they just get mad over nothing. AND CAN SOME OF THEM PLEASE GET LAID! I know sex is art and all, but damn some of yall be going overboard putting ALL your business out there. But who am I to say this? I’ve done these things too, and hell, I might look like I’m complaining right now for no reason to someone who is reading this. But that’s giving myself a reality check before I spit some knowledge, which people seem to forgot to do nowadays. What’s the shit I don’t like (… cheif keef voice… sorry i couldn’t resist) is the fact that people on here say that they’re “open minded” but are really some fucking closed minded individuals. I want to actually sit down and have a conversation with some, but others, I can just tell by the shit they write that me and them are two different people and we just won’t click with each other. I can’t fucking stand it sometimes… thats why I’m just here for the pics, tits, and anyone who’s willing to have a convo in my ask box.
(Source: theonlysolo)
I know you guys are either all in the hype of the Trayvon Martin case or are either nonchalant about it, but I just want to share this with yall. So I was chilling on twitter today and I noticed that everyone was talking about the Trayvon Martin case… again. This time speaking on the fact that Zimmerman will be brought to court and charged with second degree murder. Then I saw on my TL that my friend Danni was giving a piece of her mind about the case, and I agreed with her 100%. To be honest, I never saw the story like this, and it opened my eyes. The following are her tweets word for word:
Y’all need to look at both sides of this case. Because of how the media portrays us, Zimmerman thought he was protecting his community. He wanted to be the hero and ended up killing an innocent child. He was not thinking “ohhh lemme kill this little boy”. No he should not have pulled the trigger. And he should have taken his ass home like the 911 operator told him. But I don’t believe that man was out nigger hunting that night. He saw what the media claims is a threat and wanted to be a damn hero. But anyways god bless the soul of Trayvon Martin. Let him always be a reminder to us that we always hae something to prove. Sad but true. We out here fighting for respect for our integrity and dignity. And a lot of us are making it harder for those who are trying. To change how we are viewed in “our” society.
(Source: theonlysolo)
Its funny how people don’t like me because I’m “rude” or “extra” or etc. But one thing they can’t say about me is that I’m fake or that I don’t have a different train of thought. I think one of my favorite compliments that anyone has ever given to me was the fact that they thought I had a beautiful mind, because I was so honest and humble with myself and others. I think I’m like that because of the way I was raised. I don’t believe in hiding, that’s for the weak. Weak minded people love being lied to, and they constantly do it to their selves. My mom has always taught me to be honest with myself first, that way I can be honest with others. Lets face it, the hardest person to be truthful with is yourself.
(Source: theonlysolo)
There was a time of mine where I thought everything was sublime
Ok, to be real I was just reaching for a rhyme
you can say my craft is my injustice, soliciting my thoughts is my only crime.
I’m a criminal, so I put myself in the pen and lock my mental in this pad.
I swear the realest imaginary friend I know is my dad,
Forgive me, I’m just speaking off of a memory I had.
Born a genetic defect, striving to be perfect
in this imperfect world, where you can see my hypocrisy surface.
Its just the complex complication of my satisfaction
has lead me to see no action
because I’m either just too indecisive or I just can’t read her flirtatious captions.
Never saw myself as deep, just slightly tormented.
Never said I was deep, cause I know I’d regret it.
I’m just the cable to a TV that’s just static..
Disconnected.
I speak drunk thoughts because the truth is my ether.
People say “you’re a sinister mister,
you need some Jesus Christopher”
I mean Christ.
Never thought twice, but that doesn’t mean that I thought I was right.
They say my dark personality is due to the lack of me being in the light
or is it because I’m a dark person because I’ve been exposed to the light?
You can’t spell ignorance without a little grace,
and if that’s so, I wonder why these ignorant fucks walk around falling on their face.
I guess they’re drunk of their cheap version of “real”, what a bitter taste.
Covert in my operations, minimal in my preparations
I keep a deaf ear and a blind eye to all my speculations
but I can’t lie that it doesn’t internalize into inhibitions
its only cause i stay up at night wishing for my mission
to be a dope rhymer like Kendrick would just be more than a premonition.
So I speak my mind without choosing my words
show how much I care by showing people my two birds
No need for talking when the universal tongue is understood in verbs.
(Source: theonlysolo)
I sold my soul, but not to the devil
for a mere price of my life, I was under the spell of the bass treble
Like a kleptomaniac the clef stole my heart
my patience became impatient over rest beats
Tippity tap tippity tap, the snares are in my feet.
My head becomes the metronome
back and forth, back and forth, as the beats float in my dome.
My cranium is in a blissful pandemonium.
The lyrics become thoughts, emotions, and then some.
I fell in love with music
a drug I’m constantly abusing.
She is my heroine, my trip is out of this world even though I’m here again.
She shows me that I have nothing to fear again.
Keeps the insane sane in their own insanity
and if I know her words, I’m in the mirror mimicking as if its my own vanity.
My confidence is boosted by her kickdrums
She keeps me feeling high even when i’m in the slums.
I never wanted a penny for her thoughts, but a mere quarter for her quarter beats.
and when I figure out her complex metaphors, its synonymous to a great feat.
no matter who she’s featuring, my cool I’m keeping
because I won’t ruin our love with my jealousy.
(Source: theonlysolo)
There’s this instrumental playing in my mental
That’s slightly subliminal
But its telling me things that’s supplemental.
You could say I’m slightly cynical
To be someone alil bit more pivotal
But too busy fantasizing with thoughts that are criminal.
Mama told me to be a doctor, said fuck it I’m a rapper.
Dad said “be an architect”. Fuck that, I’m a trapper.
I seen the media play off of the “universal” meaning of swagger.
It cut my innocent childhood up, like micheal myers dagger.
Now my pants is falling off my ass
Selling drugs, instead of studying, to get quick cash.
A mere 15 years old, grown up too fast.
Said “fuck the system, its just the man keeping a nigga down.
So if you stand in the way of my money, ima gun a nigga down.”
My ignorance had been my bliss,
Off the straight and narrow path had I slipped
And had grasped a fake reality with an iron grip.
All I wanted was a choppa and a few money clips,
a benz, and a “bad bitch”.
So if I keep trapping Ima see what shit happens.
fuck up any other nigga that get in the way of my paper stacking.
Cause this is my american dream.
Listening to the preachings of the Method, tryna get that CREAM.
Cause the only panel I ever want to see got the logo of Supreme.
Just a nigga living out the white american nightmare.
My block tough, us real niggas don’t got time to fear.
So sip a 40 and hold that heater oh so dear.
Just remember, jail aint the only thing that make your mama shed tears.
(Source: theonlysolo)
I just want to live with no limits. Nothing stopping me, no one judging me, and no obstacles. That’s all just for a day.
I’m captivated by beauty when I see it. Its why I love women, beautiful women, the most. I’m not just talking about outer beauty, no thats just attraction. Inner beauty is the best way to keep my attention. I know some very beautiful and very attractive individuals, I love being around them. I don’t need to have them as my significant other (even though I do wish some were), I just like being around them. Their minds are the most beautiful thing to me, just listening to them speak their mind is what I love the most. Especially when they’re just real with everything they say. Its rare that I find these individuals though, so when I do find them, I tend to keep them close but yet at a distance. I don’t want to them to know all about me at once. My mind’s something like a hot tub, you jump into it too quickly you’ll get uncomfortable and want out. But if you ease your way into it, you’ll find it enjoyable and warm in this cold ass world. You can feel my passion when I speak and share my ideas.
(Source: theonlysolo)
Niggas will sell their souls just to have the Jumpman on their soles
if you want their attention, just make it spin and spray paint it gold.
Common sense would kill all this nonsense.
But Jimni Cricket was born a mute, so they don’t listen to their conscious.
Our needs are just a mere David to the Goliath of our wants.
I swear to God, I’d have so much rep if I wore Yves Saint Laurent
People try to be bold but can only get points across through Microsoft Word fonts.
You wear no name brands? I hope you have tough skin for the taunts,
Cause spectators will speculate
while inside they’re self esteem depreciates
Because they want to be like you. But you’re the nigga they love to hate.
(Source: theonlysolo)
I’m an individual,
with a wild style,
keeping it jalepeno spicy
bitch I’m never mild.
The impatient immigrant who waged war on immigration.
Don’t get it confused, I’m only silent cause my voice is on probation.
Ignorant thoughts run amock,
as these niggas scream “I don’t give a fuck”
but like a whore they only give more
fucks, than bucks
want to fight poverty cause they’re just mainstream sluts
Industry got their minds arrested, but they got the keys to their own cuffs.
I’m sick of these lil devils that dabble
don’t know shit, but they ramble
using big words like their conversations were scrabble.
I’m sick of the fake shit,
I’m sick of the “bad bitch”
who got daddy issues and has bad contradictions and habits
She says she want’s a Schoolboy Q-tie
that’s knowledge could tremble her knees.
But she gets it as she please,
So she runs to these thug niggas that so call “run the streets”.
I’m sick of this “game”
that niggas try to run cause they lame
they talk about how they want a wholesome lady,
but keep calling these girls out their name.
You say you a real man,
well fuck it, lets see it, damn.
in person, not talking twitter, cause their you keep flexin man.
I’m just sick of these contradictions
these people saying they talk the truth, but merely just spitting fiction
so egos could rise up like the cost of living
originality is in a recession
and swag is just another way of saying Great Depression
impressing those who lessing the lesson of opposing repression.
I’m just sick and tired.
(Source: theonlysolo)
so I’m learning how white people subconsciously want to be darker while black people subconsciously want to be lighter. What I’m asking is, where is the happy medium? Media and society of today say that black people are too dark, where as white people are too light. So we build tanning beds, bronzers, and spray-on tans for the white people who don’t like how white they are. We invent skin lighteners and disguise them as anti-blemish and anti-spot creams, to get rid of those dark spots, where you have to put all over your face to get an “even skin-tone”. What I’m saying is, when are we going to stop hating ourselves for the way we’re born and start looking in the mirror at our real selves? When will Black people stop putting a stigma or stop trying to “act-white” or be the “token” to gain status in society, and just be ourselves? When will white people stop lusting after a darker skin tone and stop using artificial means of getting darker? Society is full of fake personalities and mindsets. When will the fakeness stop?
(Source: theonlysolo)
Creez- Creez is the unmeasurable amount of creativity one pocesses. Unlike swag, Creez can not be bought, sold, or obtained through any other means of material pocession. Creez is abstract, not tangible. Everyone is born with Creez, and everyone’s Creez is different. The amount of Creez is dependant on the creative or artistic talent that one has.
Not to knock swag, swag is good. But it just seems like nowadays, swag can be copied and pasted on any and every individual no matter what. In a world where individuality is slowly, we need something different. Something that everyone has but is different at the same time, like a fingerprint. You don’t have to necessarily be an artist to have Creez, one can be creative financially or from a business stand point. To find Creez you have to look into yourself and think “what makes me me? What makes me different from the person standing next to me” and act on it. Creez gets you further in this world, way further, than swag.
(Source: theonlysolo)
under NO circumstances. idgaf if you’re lonely. thats what friends are for. thats what family is for. thats what pets are for.. but to reel somebody into disaster just because you feel alone? are you fucking kidding me?
If your heart isn’t available to give away.. then don’t give it away. its not a credit card. love doesn’t work that way.
^^THIS
I’d rather be mute than be blind or deaf. I like to talk, yeah, but I feel like I get alot more out of my head through writing/typing. In the real world, people actually don’t listen to me at all. They think that many of my ideas are too “crazy” and incomplete. Well they’re “crazy” because no one has the thought process that I do and they’re incomplete because I don’t know exactly how to say a lot of the things inside my head. But when I write or even type some of my text post, I feel like a majority of what I’m thinking comes out a lot more clearly. Kind of the reason why I choose to major in Creative Writing actually. They say a creative mind has a touch of insanity with a hint of depression mixed all together with passion, pain, attention to detail, persistence, and that “thing” that makes that mind unique. A lot of the things I write is based off of what I see and hear around me in the world. I wish I could have the power to not talk so I can observe more than I do (and ask anyone that knows me personally, I can be very observant at times).
To be real, I don’t need my voice to communicate. I can tell you how I feel through my body and my writings. I can capture a wide range of emotions if you just give me the time and the materials that I need to do so. All you have to do is have the patience to read it. Like I said, I’m horrible at face-to-face convos sometimes, especially if there is a lot of emotion behind the conversation. I’m just a passionate person when I feel a certain way. Weather I’m trying to explain myself, or if I’m angry, or even if I actually like someone and I’m trying to tell them how I feel about them. Its just super hard for me. So I write. I don’t want to lose my sight because I want to see what I’m writing about. I just love colors. I love observing the beauties of the world, my favorite beauty being cherry blossoms. I love watching and being in nature, and water too.
I don’t want to lose my sense of hearing either.I love music way too much, and losing the ability to hear it would break my heart entirely. Sometimes at night, late at night, I like to sit up in my bed with the lights off and just listen to the sounds of my house. Even though silence makes me nervous, it’s peaceful to me at the same time. I just don’t like unnatural silence. Being deaf would freak me out too much. My favorite sounds though? A baby’s laughter, a beating heart, a person breathing calmly as they sleep, waves crashing, and the sound of a gentle wind. Little know fact, I have a form of synesthesia where if I listen to certain types of music (usually very synth heavy peices) I perceive them as colors. The colors are a lot more clearer if I’m in a dark room or if I close my eyes while listening to some music. Plus a lot of music inspires my writings. So everything goes hand in hand and ends up relating to my writing. But talking, not so much.
(Source: theonlysolo)
