Guest Blog: The Way (Not) To Be Raps Five….

RohiniGuest Blog, Uncategorized

The following are raps people wrote about their “ways (not) to be”—the litanies of their shrunken selves. Part of spiritual practice is learning how we operate when we are not fully conscious; this process is detailed in two earlier blog posts titled “The Way Not To Be” and “Not the Way To Be.” These raps helped their authors gain clarity and nonattachment.

  

The Way (Not) To Be Rap 13…

Waking up,
My hair’s all white,
My body aches,
It just ain’t right.

Where have I been?
My life’s gone by.
What did I do?
I lived a lie.

My Mom and Dad
Lived on in me,
Though I thought I
Did it differently.

Carnage ensued
To myself and all;
Though I called it good,
I created Hell.

What has been my “good”?
Wretched and ashamed,
Cowering, glowering,
A feral life, untamed.

I called myself a lady,
I was holier than thou;
Crazy as that was, I
Couldn’t, wouldn’t see just how.

I’d torment people with my “good”;
I’d disrespect them, too.
They never really liked it,
But I’d think, “What’s wrong with you?”

Mom was a vampire zombie,
Dad was a raging drunk.
I took them in and lived them out,
Stuffed me into the trunk.

Now my body’s old and creaky
And I’m looking at the ruin.
“Good God”, I think, I stayed there,
Living out my “Home Sweet Home”.

I’d thought I couldn’t get out,
Someone had to rescue me,
Until I finally got it that
I have some agency.

Rohini kept on knocking
But the latch was sealed up tight,
Until one day I let it crack
Cause nothing felt alright.

It’s been a rude awakening
To see what I have done:
Calling good bad, bad good,
And recreating home.

I never knew how nuts I was,
But now I’ve come to see it;
I can better call it what it is
And work to never be it.

  

The Way (Not) To Be Rap 14…

My way to be is not to be;
Instead I suffer internally.
To make things right I do not fight
Or feel or think or speak;

I numb myself, deny inside,
Always looking to run and hide
Hide and run, run away
Walking is also okay.

Dead and dumb
With no skills,
Sometimes show up for fancy meals;
Maybe go on a retreat
To a beach and take a seat.

Nothing to do,
No one to see,
Just alone in my misery.

I keep outwardly silent,
Never a complainer ,
Just sit tight in my brutal container.

Inconsiderate and uncaring,
The way to be is to sit there staring.

  

The Way (Not) To Be Rap 15…

My way to be is to be real mean.
Judging and insulting, I’m a mean machine.
This side of me, for many, is unforeseen.

I like to play innocent, but really I’m not.
And sometimes I thrive on being caught;
I’m in love with being a little punk snot.

The way to be is knowing life sucks:
Create my own misery and call it bad luck,
Then make it suck for others by being a fuck.

Having fun only happens at others’ expense.
Anyone can know this if they have good sense.
In my world true happiness is a capital offense.

When I’m not being miserly, I must be numb;
Achieve this state by watching TV and drinking rum,
Do nothing but stare and be a dumb ol’ bum.

Act as stupid as I can, make myself look like a fool,
Write an incomprehensible failing paper for school—
That’s the only way the teacher will know I am cool.

Get attention by doing things wrong, never right
Smoke weed in my high school bathroom in broad daylight
Then I get to feel humiliated for many a night.

People only care about me when I give them sex,
Literally screw up my life, lose my subject in them, what’s next?
For my exes and me, girls can only be objects.

Never trust my gut, just stay very angry.
Surround myself with assholes, then I’m allowed to be cranky.
It’s good to be miserable, if I put it quite frankly.

Don’t write this rap like Rohini had said;
I must put it off so I can foster my sense of dread.
I can’t be good when there’s nothing hanging over my head.

These things are awful, but not to worry, bad means good.
At least, that’s what I was taught in my childhood.
All my life, I’ve just been misunderstood.

Though it sounds horrible, these adjectives I actually believe;
Once I’m mean, dumb, and annoying I can really achieve.
Really, horrible is what I aim for, not a pet peeve.

The way to be is to be bad, sad, and mad.
Life gets no better than being just like my dad.

 

 

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