“I’ve got to stop taking simple things for granted. Like waking up this morning.”

Struggle is, at times, inevitable; survival is, most times, a choice.

A work in progress, but progress nonetheless.

You’re responsible for your intentions. I’m responsible for my interpretation of your intentions.

I love all types of people, as long as they’re having fun.

Be good to you. Be happy with you. Be true to you. That will reflect with others on its own.

You’ve got to let that hurt go baby, It’s only hurting you in the end.

God sends signs, and if you pay attention in the moment you can catch them.

Never stop growing. Even when it’s painful.

Thou shall not judge, because thou has fucked up before too.

The good Lord added an extra dash of forehead when making me.

You can’t force the vibes. Chill and let shit fall in line naturally.

People will talk about you when you’re down and out, and people will talk about you when you’re successful. You choose what matters to you.

I’ve seen maturity evolve more through experience than age.

The goal is to make everything around me grow, Including myself.

This is a marathon. Fight, take a minute to regain your peace/energy, regroup and fight again.

Money can’t buy you loyalty.

Man’s wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.

The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day.

Bright as does the morning star appear, Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, To tell the dawning day is drawing near.

Again rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep’d in the morning dews.

What is life, when wanting love? Night without a morning; Love’s the cloudless summer sun, Nature gay adorning.

The chilly morning breeze wakes me this whiff of fall is so welcoming, my soul craves the changing leaves along with the toasty seasonal drinks while I am wrapped in my blanket basking in warm, sweet dreams.

You are the cream in my coffee as you lather me with your sweet kisses, brightening up my every morning. Your existence is ever so adoring.

Remember her hair in the morning before it was pinned, black, rampant, savage with loveliness. As if she slept in perpetual storm.