a lil' rap that i wrote to promote that i ain't regular goat,

with the followers takin' vote to demote my name in vain,

turnin' soul insane, lil wayne, sugarcane,

say my name, aye. aye. aye. aye.

listen'up aye yo, FO MO,

cancellin' a freakin' show, it is high time low, with a no.

"NO, NO, NO"

WHAT'S THAT WORD AYE,

NEVER HEARD WORD AYE,

OH YEA. "

listenin' to diss,

aimin' to miss,

fulfillin' no wish, servin' cold dish,

washin' out the fame,

no one to blame,

it is me and my game, and you my friend.

i love you, i hate you, imma lookin' for a pill to forget you, oh i'm sorry, did i hurt you or your feelin', why your head keep on swellin', oh that's your D.

my apologise Mr. B.

no i wanna know,

what is the game mortan joe..!?

mad max out.

The best way to keep a secret? Hide it in plain sight. People will never notice what’s right in front of them because they’re too busy chasing what isn’t there. That’s just how our minds work.

I’ll admit, it felt strange—unsettling, even—when everyone suddenly had something to say after a particular loss. Before that, no one seemed to care. In the history of filmmaking, nobody had the faintest idea of what was going on. But the moment that event happened, the noise started. Everyone became so vocal. It caught me off guard. I kept asking myself, How did all these people find their voices overnight?

And then, it started to click. They weren’t reacting to the event out of concern; they were using it. People started pointing fingers, blaming others, but in truth, they were all part of the same group. That realisation hit hard. It was confusing.

And when you’re confused, you have two choices: assume you know the truth, or go looking for it. I chose the second. I started investigating, hoping to piece it all together. But instead of staying detached, I got pulled in—I became part of the mess I was trying to unravel.

Looking back, I think it was necessary. Painful, but necessary. It brought me closer to understanding the truth. Day by day, week by week, month by month, every little thing that happened started to make sense—every motive, every hidden agenda, every play for power.

It’s a strange feeling when it all becomes clear. It’s like waking up from a dream and realising you’ve been lied to your whole life. Their hate? A lie. Their love? A lie. Their arguments, their fights, their criticism—it’s all a lie. And I kept wondering, Why? Why all these lies?

There are plenty of reasons. Some people crave power—they’ll do anything to keep it, even if it means manipulating others. Some aren’t strong enough to hold their positions, so they rely on dirty tricks to stay afloat. And then there’s survival. People will do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means crossing lines that should never be crossed.

In this case, survival meant taking a life. It was heartbreaking. If we, as humans, are supposed to be the pinnacle of creation—whether by nature, God, or evolution—then how are we still behaving like this? We might be more civilised, but deep down, we’re still acting on the same primal instincts we’ve had since the beginning of time. Eliminating others, taking their place—it’s the same story, just dressed up differently now.

It’s a hard truth, and not everyone’s ready to face it. But for me, I’m glad it happened. As painful as it was, it gave me a sense of purpose when I felt like I’d lost my way.

Now, I can say this with certainty: I’m at peace. I truly am. Because I know the truth. And the truth has always been my ally. It always will be. Knowing the truth also means knowing how to share it—how to help others see it for what it is.

Could it have been avoided? Sure. But with power comes responsibility, and sadly, some people abuse that power. They forget what they owe to humanity. Instead, they become inhumane. And in doing so, they create false gods.

Still, I’m at peace. Because I see it for what it is. And I know the truth.

ab' lincoln once said, democracy is of the people, by the people, and for the people. but does it fall into the truth of "the people"? yes, it does—but not in a traditional manner.

but why do the people matter? because they generate cash doing jobs that run a system, the society, and all, and all, and all.

whether it is politics, the entertainment industry, or even a small community, without the cash flow of the people, it just wouldn't work. therefore, they must be given something they can connect with.

and when one lacks talent, the game of manipulation is left as the last option.

i mean, who the hell came up with the "make your passion your profession" shit? that just doesn’t make any sense. i mean, of course, you can make your passion your profession, but it wouldn’t be your passion anymore. the stress you'd have—it will come from the profession aspect of it, not the passion aspect.

now you’re in a position where you cannot have fun with your passion because you’re stressed out by your profession.

if em' had followed his passion, he’d be the head chef of a michelin-starred hotel in france. but is he? nope. based on his ikigai chart, he’s doing what he’s supposed to.

although he’s nowhere close to the definition of success set by the world, what the hell.!!

once zoe said "you gotta do what you gotta do, and i gotta do what i gotta do."

and what i gotta to do is some lazy workout.

“what’s a lazy workout?” you ask.

well, it’s like working out as if you’re favourin' the idea of workin' out.

“that sounds so silly,” you say.

well, what if silly works.

i mean, that’s how it worked for em'.

i remember those days of em' when.....(bufferin')

btw, did you catch em's cameo somewhere, maybe?

anyways, the routine goes,

one push-up.

one pull-up.

one chin-up.

one crunch. (Aye, don’t doubt my style.)

one squat.

one dip.

simple.

em' call it a lazy workout because workin' out feels like a commitment. once you start, missin' even one day feels like cheatin'—and em' can’t live with that burden. plus, who has the time, energy or even motivation? in another word, the lazy workout is a regime for all ems, its slogona goes "to the em'. for the em'. by the em'."

roger.

i'd talk.

i'd talk my heart out, let it all out like a broken dam.

i'd drink, i'd dance, i'd shy if someone hit on me.

i'd smoke, i'd vape, i'd do what no one in this entire world has ever done before, again.

i'll clean the house.

i'd discuss future.

i'd learn the value of "what ifs"

at last, i'd write.

sober.

they say how you spend the first day of the year is how you’ll spend the rest of it. personally, i never believed in such notions, but a recent time-travelling experience got me thinking and challenging my beliefs. so, i came up with a perfect plan for the 1st of january. since it was my first attempt, i had to get it right—there could be no room for missing anything productive or disrespecting the phenomenon of time by wondering, questioning, wishing, dreaming, or regretting.

to start a good day, i needed proper sleep.

at 11 pm, i sipped a strong valerian root tea—mild never works for me, except when it’s alcohol.

i decided to wake up whenever my eyes naturally opened.

i spent some time in bed organising my thoughts. there’s so much to do, and it feels like a curse that i get hungry and tired like everyone else.

you can either smoke weed or have a strong cup of green tea potent enough to make you puke. if you don’t, the level of concentration you can achieve—especially with a basic noise-cancelling plug—is unimaginable. but even then, you can’t ignore the events beyond your control.

i should have listened to my instincts and put my phone on aeroplane mode.

one distraction led to another.

i must work out.

tiredness brings calm. have you ever wondered about those who don’t need music while working out? it’s because an entire orchestra is playing in their minds.

i must organise it all.

when there’s a mountain of tasks, organising only helps if you have the will to execute them.

for today, i had only three goals.

a workout that wasn’t too intense—lest i become tired—or too light, which would leave me dissatisfied.

every second counts.

it’s 8:11 am.

let’s see how it goes from here.

i did some chores, like making breakfast and eating it. yes, at this point, even these minor activities felt like chores. it helps to get your head ready before declaring it a productive day. i need tangible results by the day’s end.

listening to music or watching short videos could be distracting, so i’m saving them for when i’m absolutely drained.

one thing i’ve noticed for a long time: when you’re focused, everything aligns to its purpose—except time. it speeds up. i just know it.

writing and editing have been part of my daily life for as long as i can remember. it had to be done today too.

half the day had gone by, and so far, i had no issues with it.

then, i doubted whether it would all work out.

i sensed fear.

and in fear, i did the only thing i know that works.

it’s a parallel thing, something beyond explanation or understanding. it’s like nature—it just is.

then, i finished the rest of my chores, evaluating everything.

there was no room for argument, only acceptance.

i did it.

maybe not entirely.

but i’d wish for it in some mystical way—with just a minor input from my side—when i could finally be happy.

mtw: business hours.

tfs: fantasy hours.

s: milestone review.

after finishing this shitty writing, i got a handle on typing.

i then switched to the second phase of the plan.

yes, we’re open for business now.

what.!?

that's it. is this all that fuss was about. what about the nighttime.

saving the final hours for the best chase in the history of all time.

stream of consciousness.

so what do you think? how did i do so far?

if i search for more, i think i can locate the lost kid living somewhere in my conscience.

do you hate me now.!? nope. you cannot, that's the beauty of the game.