 Friends         | Things I can't stand 1. Friending me to boost your numbers only to never talk to me. 2. Saying hi and then never anything else. 3. Insisting the photo is you when it clearly a magazine photo. 4. one word answers for our entire conversation. Just looking for real, friendly, and that's about it.  spacecowboy88 to Megs111: You are so sexy. 3 months ago • Report • Link 0 spacecowboy88: it is our light not our darkness that most frightens us Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, Our presence automatically liberates others. spacecowboy88: Some people see a teacher. Some people see a father. Some people see a childhood friend. Some see a brother or a son. Some see the boy next door, some see the sinner who convinced their child to see with them. Some see a lover, some see someone they hate, a horrible person. Some see an old man, some still the child I once was. Who am I, if I am so many to so many different people. spacecowboy88: Some people call me the space cowboy, yeah Some call me the gangster of love Some people call me Maurice 'Cause I speak of the pompatus of love a People talk about me baby Say I'm doin' you wrong, doin' you wrong Well, don't you worry, baby, don't worry 'Cause I'm right here, right here, right here, right here at home 'Cause I'm a picker I'm a grinner I'm a lover And I'm a sinner I play my music in the sun I'm a joker I'm a smoker I'm a midnight toker I sure don't want to hurt no one I'm a picker I'm a grinner I'm a lover And I'm a sinner I play my music in the sun I'm a joker I'm a smoker I'm a midnight toker I get my lovin' on the run spacecowboy88: If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, spacecowboy88: You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. |
