Wright's

Wrightes

Rights, do we even have them, it's my right and I'll do whatever I want to do with them. Am I free? Or am I just another slave in the levee. 

I want to be a writer, but they're telling me to quit, like I don't have the rights. They auction off little children and they do it all day long and all I, want to do.. is just write about it.

It's pizzagate, but nobody believes it because it isn't in the nightly news or in the news papers. So I just want to wake up America, wake the whole world up, to the truth.

You know I haven't always been the man that I'm trying to be, I just haven't got the time to write about it now, and they keep telling me, telling me, I need to stop writing.

Wright's.

I don't even know what's right or wrong anymore. I guess that's why I believe they're neurologically controlling everyone. Because it's so fucked up. Fucked up. In all that we do, and call it living, living, when I ain't never lived.

They say it's my life, and you can do what you want with it, but I haven't been given a chance, no chance in hell to say the things that have been weighing on my heart lately... It's been taking my mind down with the rights I keep thinking about as though I had them, maybe just some, but I feel as if I can't even hold onto one. And this fight I cannot win.

They say if you try to fight the system, the system is going to kill you. So I'm fighting anyways. Because it's my life, my life. I'm going to be doing me now, because I haven't got the time to feel bad about all the right that's in my heart. I want to do what I love, and that's just write about it. The truth, because I can't even lie about it, no more... Not to myself and not to the empty canvas that they took away from me. 

So if I can't paint the beautiful pictures that I had engraved on my heart, and if I can't write the songs that have never been sung, then I'm not going to lie about it. I won't try to kill my dream that's when it's just something that is already done and they do it. They do it all the time, they are killing my dreams, killing my means and I'm just fed up because I'm not supposed to make it.

So they tell me to just move on, quit working on your writings and do something different. And I don't want to live a nine to five life. I just wanted to be me. And they'd see me flourishing from one place into another. Because I haven't lost heart. I can't even tell you how much pain I've felt through all the passions and additions I've been trying to be there, just to add to you, as to you, but I can't call this life.

I don't call what we're doing living.

Under the gun or the knife. Do I have Wright's, when I've been, weighing it down into my life and writing it all out. I'm trying to fill every nook and cranny, using words to show people just how much that I gave into their life, your life, and how much I care when I write about it, in righting the Wright's and wrongs, of all that I see, in my life... That I don't think you know about. Yeah, I don't think you know anything about it. Just like, you don't know anything about me, the real me, the real me. I'm out here lost too many days where I'm trying to write out a the wrongs, like a widowed wife from war that was created by the people you vote for. Skull and bones to 9-11, nobody believes in your 9-11, yet everyone just seems to follow with what the media says, even though it's dictating your lives, and all you ever do now is being messed with, tracked beyond precision with reason to destroy you. Destroy you. On your highway to heaven, in a dance with the devil and the minds are idle and wasted. With people that haven't got the chills enough from looking up what to believe in, searching and listening to all that is out there to affirm what's real to me. What's real to me? What's real to you? Are we living in the real? Or is this all just a fake like they faked the fact that you have the right to speak up, about anything you wish. They take your rights away from you, take your pens away from you, take your ability to be on a computer away from you. Like it was designed beforehand. Like it was all by design.

My wrights, do I even have the right to write it all out, through the rights and the wrongs of what I believe in, believe in, and now I don't have the time to write about our rights like they outright took all of my rights and threw them away. Because they know what I'm talking about. Deep mind is the program you're searching on in Google. Ask them anything and they bury the truth with it. You haven't got the courage to bury yourselves deep within your own mind, enough to seek and find, all that I have. It's troubling to know, cancer is planted. Disease is manifested for profiting off of you all like slaves. You get a birth certificate, but not a statement of live birth because they're profoundly checking off human life as dead. And they send it to you in a coffin. A coffin. 

And all I ever wanted to do was write about it. I know I'm right about it and I have the right to keep the thoughts that I have about it, and feelings of God within your chest. Your heart, every day since birth I could feel this, feel reason, weighting in on my wrights to feel this way about it. And all you get to listen to is agitation propaganda on the fake news, fake news, because if I could have been free, truly, I'd be out there wiring about it and writing my own songs. But they don't want me to be. Just to be sure that I'm feeling down on my own luck, like they say it, down on your luck? It's not luck. It's not a draw from the cards, it's not The cards you've been dealt but the people are out stabbing the deck, because I don't want to know that life wasn't fair, or how bad this world will cut off your air. I'm staying here, staring down the devil on my highway to heaven. I look both ways before cruising the road, I didn't think that I should get hit by government surveillance making it impossible for me to fight a spiral out of control, spiritual warfare, and the battlefield is being made for your mind. Your heart. To turn on your own self. So your writing stop your dreaming and quit trying to write your song.

I'm feeling alone, in a battle against principalities and against the rulers of darkness in this world. Wrestling against the flesh and blood that have taken on the flames. Fighting fires, fighting chemical and diseases, fighting news and information, fighting education, fighting for truth. Truth to come out write.

It's Spiritual darkness, darkening truth. For if you had read what I have you'd probably already be dead. 

That's why I believe God set this fire in me to bring the light. So much light I'd trade the whole night down, with my right. My fight. My everlasting breath nestled in a fight for truth Justice and liberty. Real liberty, too, not just what they program you to think I'm schools. We came from fish... Yeah right. I came from my father in heaven. I've got a story to tell and I'm alone in a battle of principalities and their ruling powers of darkness, and I'm praying that one day soon I'll be able to tell it to you.

Wright's.

All I ever wanted to do was bring you to the truth. The truest part of our hearts isn't afraid. They say you have two choices... In life... You can either choose fear or choose love. I chose love while being driven in fear. Fear that I'll always have to fight instead of live life. 

But let me ask you some questions... Are you living your life or theirs? Are we truly living, because I call this the making of dying. I call this suicide and homicide to live like we're truly alive when we're being killed through disinformation campaigns and agitprop. Programmed into the matrix. They want you dumbed down docile and incomplete of a man. Or woman. They want you dead. They don't want you to see what they've been doing behind closed doors. When they say if you try to fight the system, the systems going to kill you. And they're killing me.