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  • Fernando Anselmi

OPEN LETTER : CYPHER 1

Actualizado: 24 de oct de 2018


This ain’t easy, nor pleasing or teasing, nothing but heart, facts and real bleeding to this beating. Big news, its hard walking this track, I’m sorry Ollie but righteousness just continuously tears me apart. Decided tonight my shadow is playing the part. Taking a page from Slim, bet the world I can be almost as shadier as him. Funny I am selfish as they come, hey bitches please hold my money while I go for a run. Flattered but tired of playing good, guessing you fools all misunderstood. Like president Frank Underwood on a headless mood I am content to rob you all of your livelihood . Parties, alcohol and drugs is all you hear, here I am asking why real tears continue to disappear. If you buzz about goals be prepared to fish real bs, probably about bills, gals and some fuzz about cannabis. Leave them be I’d guessed you would say, but enough space they’ve been granted by my grace.


This is my open letter to the world. No thinking, arranging or planning schemes, just some straight up running and gunning aiming to kill. Let me start by asking you people whats the point of alcohol, when you cease control and it becomes your only way for some real connection to be made whole. Money? I’ve been hearing a lot about it lately, basically how it is your only way to gladly measure if you’ve made it. Not enough partying and crying? No lying easy to solve, just lose yourself to a bottle of pills, a record and whole bunch of ethanol. Yes I am taking shots at you little girls, mess me up so much I ain’t touching no more females. And geez please tell me whats up with the lads, sporting crazy tats and backwards hats feeling like I should give y’ll a pat for playing dress up. You pips running a con thinking you a don, no Juan but a colossal squabble, ha should’ve said morons with no neurons. Better catch on here’s your new apostle bringing hostile novels before you are too far gone into the bourbon.


Want my advice? like fine glass heres my price. Shut the fuck up and let me give y’all a class. Happiness? Next to inexistent. Matter of fact my ex just called, she insistent on me having a knack for getting her panties another assistant . Religion? can’t trust no Angels. Full anger, lust and no lord to come and save them. Sorry for the name dropping, Tilly, but I haven’t got you enough of a whopping for your real tiny tities. Stomach’s growling, no more howling but sorrowing is coming. Pain keeps showing shame its slowing could sweep college but I am bowing to knowledge. Maybe I overstep let me concentrate, even better say thanks to those that brought me to this state, gonna meditate. Cheers Alexander, owe you a beer for showing me how to switch gears allowing me to shoot queers without ever dropping a tear. Thank you Tai for advancing my vane brain to an AI, and Joe there wouldn’t be any flow without your marketing mojo. Twelve steps behind might need AA in my corner, fuck fair play need to get some stuff of my chest or I may never recover.


Now I wanna address you personally, break the shackles you’ve made me wear since the night you missed my calls purposely. Keeping you around feels like reviving a bad memory, bound treachery phone friends just too jokingly boring for me. Guess we are really meant to be enemies, wouldn’t like this legacy no more jealousy, hopefully Bonnie and Clyde till the end of the melody. Though we both know I deserve it, cheated, lied and then tried to work it. No excuses, expected this sentence, I am no wreck but neglect to protect this past perfect.


Obsessive, compulsive, over abusive clever mind brawler, crazier than your regular baller, call me whatever girl, I am no crawler. Uncontrollable anger while addressing you junkers, better sunder before the approaching warmonger, I’m ignoring all regard to dumping on your retards plunders.

Wasted enough chimes on your kind, would try killing me to stop the time but we all agree Kings Never Die so like in an effortless crime going to need all of your breed to die. Tighten the straps, fill the mags and spray hot fire on all of these fucks.

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Email: fernando.anselmi@gmail.com
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