"Barrel O' Fun" 10th Annivesary Edition (featuring bonus track)

Running

Враг перуанца – другой перуанец
IG:https://www.instagram.com/Bradylonhell/
twitter:https://twitter.com/Bradylon1


Lost old account @muraminaj

“the only opinion that matters is your own” don’t let others take your creativity for granted

̶̨̨̧̨̛̛̛̛̛̘͓̩̥̮̩͚̰̰͚̣͔̻͖̦̲̺̣̺͇̯̣̩̟̟̳̻̜̹̗͔͇͖̠̦̰͈̞̥̠̦̝̐͋̈́̈́̿̄̐͆̀̀̐̇̑̌̏̋̉̀̽͐̀͗͗͆̓͑̃̆͌̏͆̈͒̃̓̄́̽̅̂̊͗̅̒̉͊̑̍͊́̽̏̉͂́̃̽͒̏͛̈͋̂͆̏̆̔̂̒͑͐̄̿̋̓͐̌̎̀͐̆̾͒̔̑̓̊̆̏̀̎͐͋͒̇̇̿̈͊̆̀͑̀́̈́̃̓͒̊͊͆̈́͐͂̔̎̊̋̈́͌̔͋͑̇̉̄́̊̈́͊̍̃̋̓͂͒͐̅̌̉̓͐̀̅̓͒͑̂̓̈́̈̈̈͒̄̐̌̇͆͌͌̀̃͆̿̈́̀̍̅͛́̀̓͐̅͑́̎̉̿͊̐͗́̀̊̈́̇̒̓̎̿̔̉͂̾̇͆̈́͂̾̂͊͗̊̉̐̽̓̓̅̿̇̉̒͗̐̒͆̎̾̾͛̈̒̂̈́̃̌̔̾̊͋͋̄̾̌̋̌̿̀͘̕̕̕̚͘̕̕͘̕͘͘̕͝͠͝͠͠͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͠͝͠
̶̨̨̧̨̛̛̛̛̛̘͓̩̥̮̩͚̰̰͚̣͔̻͖̦̲̺̣̺͇̯̣̩̟̟̳̻̜̹̗͔͇͖̠̦̰͈̞̥̠̦̝̐͋̈́̈́̿̄̐͆̀̀̐̇̑̌̏̋̉̀̽͐̀͗͗͆̓͑̃̆͌̏͆̈͒̃̓̄́̽̅̂̊͗̅̒̉͊̑̍͊́̽̏̉͂́̃̽͒̏͛̈͋̂͆̏̆̔̂̒͑͐̄̿̋̓͐̌̎̀͐̆̾͒̔̑̓̊̆̏̀̎͐͋͒̇̇̿̈͊̆̀͑̀́̈́̃̓͒̊͊͆̈́͐͂̔̎̊̋̈́͌̔͋͑̇̉̄́̊̈́͊̍̃̋̓͂͒͐̅̌̉̓͐̀̅̓͒͑̂̓̈́̈̈̈͒̄̐̌̇͆͌͌̀̃͆̿̈́̀̍̅͛́̀̓͐̅͑́̎̉̿͊̐͗́̀̊̈́̇̒̓̎̿̔̉͂̾̇͆̈́͂̾̂͊͗̊̉̐̽̓̓̅̿̇̉̒͗̐̒͆̎̾̾͛̈̒̂̈́̃̌̔̾̊͋͋̄̾̌̋̌̿̀͘̕̕̕̚͘̕̕͘̕͘͘̕͝͠͝͠͠͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͠͝͠ 
̶̛̛̛̐͋̈́̈́̿̄̐͆̀̀̐̇̑̌̏̋̉̀̽͐̀͗͗͆̓͑̃̆͌̏͆̈͒̃̓̄́̽̅̂̊͗̅̒̉͊̑̍͊́̽̏̉͂́̃̽͒̏͛̈͋̂͆̏̆̔̂̒͑͐̄̿̋̓͐̌̎̀͐̆̾͒̔̑̓̊̆̏̀̎͐͋͒̇̇̿̈͊̆̀͑̀́̈́̃̓͒̊͊͆̈́͐͂̔̎̊̋̈́͌̔͋͑̇̉̄́̊̈́͊̍̃̋̓͂͒͐̅̌̉̓͐̀̅̓͒͑̂̓̈́̈̈̈͒̄̐̌̇͆͌͌̀̃͆̿̈́̀̍̅͛́̀̓͐̅͑́̎̉̿͊̐͗́̀̊̈́̇̒̓̎̿̔̉͘̕̕̕̚͘̕̕͘̕͘͝͠͝͠͠͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͠͝

perfection disguised by a mess.
chisel away at the dirt and you’ll find the rocks. 
intentional placement of emotion leading to true cultivation, creation..
Fuckin bitches I don’t love,
has never been my forte.
don’t belittle my heart
just because you don’t understand.

Whether a little bug, an elephant, or me
can’t you see the beauty in our triumph of life?
They feel, just as you do. 
They see and think, just as you do. 
Give us a fighting chance?…

humanize the inhuman…
I know I’m the devil sometimes.. a monster, 
A creation of my parents, my surrounding, my lovers and haters, my self…; faltering at the sight of beautiful women because I doubt my own beauty. 
I’ll get to know me better than you ever could. 
Care to make it a race? 

I’ll take the time, again, to create myself. 
Pushing-
My heart is yours, yes.. but it’s hers, too. And it’s my animals’, my family, my friends, past lovers and slight encounters…
my heart is also mine, and I’ll do with it as I please.. otherwise I wouldn’t be me…can you see? 

If you can captivate me, then I’d give you all my energy.

My voice says it’s time to stop now, and I’ll say everything one day. You’ll find me in my words on pages lost and pages found.. sounds that drown out everything you need it to. 
It’s amazing, really.  Haha… .. . . 

I was forced out of love with myself because others’ demanded to be first.. 
it’s hateful, really… haha…..can you feel my laughter? Hahahah it’s wonderful, the energy that could be shared if we tune in to it. 
Whether it’s created from our spontaneous understanding of the words we read, or perhaps accurately feel what is being portrayed…
That, too is astounding, seriously. 

Get outta here.
Take what you own and go home; but tell me, do you know? Do you know what’s yours  and what you’ve thrown away? Do you know how many times I’ve picked it up and given it back to you, despite your carelessness? 
And now you demand of me, myself, and I’m not ready..I’m not ready to go, but you’re trying to make me. 
Thts not okay. Go if you want to go, know I’ll always beg you to stay, but don’t beg me to come with you because I can’t. I don’t know you. I never did. Not entirely 
Because you always kept secrets from me and hid parts of yourself that I could guess, but still you lied so I believed. 
It’s awful really, but I loved you more for it. I saw your heart and soul in your eyes and the makeup disguise and that girl who kept you by her side because she, too, was lonely and seeking the world in you. 
you carry the world inside yourself…
you carry part of my purpose inside of you, too, and maybe I for you. Do you agree? 
You may see this and that’s probably a great thing. I fear your automatic response, the thoughts and feelings you often keep to yourself when you feel they’re unworthy or unkind to share. But those are the ones I love the most. 

If you made it this far then perhaps you love me and you don’t even know. 
Or maybe you do. 
Maybe you, the reader, don’t understand any or some of this, but what matters is that you were here, you stayed, you felt something even if you didn’t acknowledge it…and because of that…I think I could die happy. 
Knowing that, I could die now and feel fulfilled
with my own delusion and dream of such things coming true.
to be known. to be heard. 
when I believe, as of now, I’m stop writing  this and almost 100% certain that no one will even view my account for years to come. 
It’s as beautiful as it is tragic. And I kind of like it as much as I kind of hate it. 

Words go on forever. 

This is music, isn’t it? 
This is art. 

I won’t revise and I won’t edit and I won’t delete it right now. 
This is my space that you’re entering. 
Understand that.

These are my degrees and my perspectives. I ask that you take from them or leave them alone, 
but as always, wish as you will and do as you must.

Running

Ollie Byrd