Flexin before church. Thugs love God too😁 lol (Taken with Instagram)

Music is a hidden arithmetic exercise of the soul, which doesn’t know that it is counting.

~ Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz (via vanachexfortune)

Huh? (Taken with Instagram)

vintageblackglamour:

Michael.

I like my Michael with a wide nose.

Pitch and Paint

I tried to convince someone as stubborn as me that I wasn’t stubborn. It was just as successful as composing a symphony for the deaf and asking if the strings were in tune or painting a picture for the blind in their favorite color. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of stubbornness, just two souls who won’t hear or see the other side of things because we weren’t equipped to. One day I’ll hand over my paint brush and pass my instrument over and let them demonstrate their artistry to me. Until then…I’m not stubborn because I SAID SO!

meloxtra:

GOD

Room for rent?

This is my theory. As silly as it may sound to you, it makes me feel better so please oblige. I think I’ve found out how different kinds of love for different kinds of people can co-exist in one space and not overlap. The heart has compartments. Like a highrise apartment complex nestled in the middle of a metropolis, the heart is constantly occupied and is called home to many. People of various backgrounds, with different stories to tell coagulated with an array of reasons as to why they’ve ended up there. All the while filling the darn thing almost exceeding capacity.

We often say “Oh, he has my heart” or “You’re the only one my heart beats for”. It sounds so sweet, so assuring…but is it accurate? Is it a lie of omission and oversight? Other people are already there…somewhere. Does the heart rent out its space as easily as a seedy landlord seeks to fill up his property to ensure steady flow of income?

Well friends, this is my answer to all of these questions.

Simply yes and no.

The heart is a lot of numerous foundations and housing properties, open to all who qualify. There are apartments to rent, homes to buy, and some things in between like renting with an option to buy. I guess this is why love is as unstable as the housing market; ironically owning a home no matter how the market wavers is always the most secure form of collateral. I know it to be true but I’ll never understand why it is. Almost how I’ll never fully understand how and where love lives. Creating theories help though.