Without the proper hierarchy intact, we were lawless, unguided spirits with heart and courage unmatched.  No restrictions on a shogun with the exception of the honor of samurai guidelines, left to our own free will under a puppet leadership, a dangerous concoction.

We knew the life and this was it.  Born into a preexisting feudal system known as life, although thought to be free, we didn’t realize that we were caged and physically isolated on an island, topped off by a glass ceiling.  I thought that this was it, everywhere was the same, all neighborhoods were the same, all childhoods were equal – same thing, various places, only difference was the location.

Although the cage was not ours, we fought outsiders to preserve our enclave’s image and way of life.  With an erection of battle ships at our borders, combined with governmental resources being handed down in minuscule amounts, sacrificial offerings atop of ziggurats geared towards appeasing.  Polytheistic survival strategies for the scraps that were donated to us from deities in the natural world.

Praying – perverted vocal hymns, misdirected meditation with the absence of action, or perhaps the implementation of the passive action of praying, the drums were stripped, the rhythm stopped and paralysis set itself upon the movement.    The fists were strong, yet all efforts to preserve land that was stolen were sabotaged – gentrification was inevitable – trick or treaties.

Some went against the grain, trying to enhance their physical abilities, attempting beautification in the fashion of a peacock, flaunting, attraction, deception, and aspirations to fly through the jungles untouched.  Resistance from both sides of the fence, against those that expanded their mental capabilities, skepticism of intent.  SWOT assessment, permitted to assimilate into the mainstream, becoming part of the herd, abandoning the ideology of infiltration, but never fully accepted by the aggressors.

Isolated where the gutters collect what they can from the dirt, the curb, the corner.  The corner of the city named in its native tongue “the angels” where outsiders perceive a positive connotation, overlooking the fact that light bearer also maintained this title.  Therefore, there must be preference…preference for some to receive disparate treatment.

We were sick, yet never diagnosed – a mutation was injected into our genealogy that were designed to  be vaccines, preventing our uncivil ways from once again manifesting themselves.  Hellen Keller was fortunate, she had Anne Sullivan, however we have no voice to be heard, no sympathizers, nor eyes to behold the systematic illnesses that were forced upon us.

The result – unable to trust those closest to us in proximity, therefore subsequently unable to trust those from afar in which in a place where we were constructed.  Respect, earned through tribulation.  Tribulation determined by hardship, hardship determined by economic status.  A unique bond for love, grounded  love through respect.  Never forget that we were genetically engineered to be superior before modern stem cell and DNA experiments, our current existence is testament to their success.




IG – King Block Dean












































































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