So lemme get this straight. For $50 I can get an improved camera. Which doesn't matter because hardware is limited by the hardware you have, but I get all these other great features!
*Restricted reach (same as before)
*Assumed to be a bot or spam (same as before)
*Monetized status on hold for using my free speech (same as before)
*My for you section filled with the same 10 people as before
*Endless message requests from porn boys and scammers(same as before)
*Radar (that still doesn't do shit)
*No commercials (yet I still have them on my timeline)
*The cool ability to block people but still have them see all my shit and comment (yet I can't see their comments but the public can? So that's cool)
*My subscription ability put on indefinitely held status
*All for the low low price increase of over 250% in the last 7 months?
I fuckin love this app, X is the greatest platform to come catch up with quasi celebrities and watch monetized accounts break every rule I'm constantly punished for and they repeat the same shit I said hours before. It's so fucking cool.
Sad. What's even sadder is until I'm given 100% proof I take it with a grain of salt.
I personally know a woman who went to Florida on a job offer from a realtor, who then later claimed she was sex trafficked and abused by the state of Florida . Turns out she was just a slut looking for a free ride who gets violently drunk then claims abuse after. After taking a deep dive into her history I found out the exact same pattern was repeated across several states with several men. She's spent the past 6 months defaming my name and character and since she claims DV her social media is allowed to continue this unhinged bullshit.
Yes, you know her.
Because of her I'll prolly never trust another person who spends their entire existence clamoring for attention because of their "abused" history. I used to be the person that people would get ahold of to defend and protect those kind of women. Sadly I'll never listen to another one again, my heart goes out but I cannot join in on those fights anymore.
New article is posted on my timeline. If you get the chance give it a read and maybe share it .
Finishing the book I was working on for the Unsung heroes project as well.
I'm getting into a possible contract situation with a monthly publication that may be a real kick in the ass to my career.
Kendrick Lamar vs. Donald Trump: A Gonzo Clash of Titans, 2024-2025
An avalanche of lies, hot takes, and media spin—@Fox screaming “satanic” about Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl LIX performance, @CNN twisting it into a cryptic jab at Drake and Trump—lit a fire under me to dig deeper. Both sides of the MSM are peddling fiction, and that’s a neon sign something’s up. Why are Kendrick, Compton’s hip-hop poet, and Trump, the comeback king of ’24, the media’s favorite piñatas? Old habits die hard, but truth bites harder. Summer 2024 saw Kendrick bury Drake in a lyrical feud, silencing him with bars sharper than a switchblade, while Trump, grazed by a bullet, roared “Fight! Fight! Fight!” at 78, defying death and doubters. Two men, two Americas, both preaching community and defiance in their own warped ways. So, strap in—I’m going full gonzo, channeling Hunter S. Thompson’s ghost, to rip the veil off this circus and see what’s real.Hold tight—this is a head-on collision between Kendrick Lamar, Compton’s lyrical alchemist, and Donald Trump, America’s teflon showman, tearing through 2024’s wreckage into the fever dream of ’25. No brakes, just truth, raw and unfiltered.
Parallels: Ringmasters of Chaos
Picture this: two ringmasters, two circuses. Trump storms back to the White House in November ’24, a comeback that splits the nation—half chanting his name, half burning effigies. Kendrick drops GNX the same month, a sonic gut-punch that moves millions (exact figures are murky, but the charts don’t lie) and owns the streets like a middle finger to mediocrity. Both feed on chaos, thriving on roars—Trump’s MAGA rallies are revival tents for the faithful; Kendrick’s Super Bowl LIX set in February ’25, 15 minutes of fire in New Orleans, preaches to the forgotten. They’re wired to the same current: outrage, loyalty, a defiant faith that keeps the crowd https://t.co/GBmWK96tzK’s the sick joke: they’re storytellers bending reality. Trump peddles a lost Eden—stolen elections, golden ages he’ll revive with walls and tariffs. Nostalgia’s his blackjack; he swings it hard. Kendrick turns inward, carving up his demons and America’s scars on tracks like “wacced out murals,” prophesying pain. One’s selling a past that never was; the other’s howling for a future that might never be. Conman versus conscience, but both know the game: own the story, own the soul.
Dichotomies: Sledgehammer vs. Scalpel
The differences cut like a razor. Trump’s 2024 campaign was a bulldozer: immigration crackdowns, tax cuts, and a January ’25 inauguration where he vowed to “drain the swamp again,” as if it wasn’t his own cesspool. Kendrick’s ’24 was a slow burn, introspective—GNX wrestles with self-doubt amid societal decay, a poet’s cry against the void. Trump’s a sledgehammer, smashing nuance; Kendrick’s a scalpel, slicing open the beast’s underbelly. One’s a 78-year-old relic, golf-tanned and teflon-coated, rooted in Reagan’s America; the other’s a 37-year-old visionary, wiry and restless, carrying Compton’s ghosts.The culture wars make it starker. Trump doubles down in ’25, pushing tax breaks for billionaires and railing against “coastal elites,” a symbol of entrenched power. Kendrick headlines the Super Bowl, turning “Not Like Us” into a Black power anthem that drowns out the NFL’s corporate sheen, a middle finger to the system. Yet—here’s the twist—they’re both untouchable. Trump shrugs off scandals like dust; Kendrick sidesteps the Drake feud’s fallout with a verse that cuts deeper than a blade.
Rhetorical Arsenals: Word Salad vs. Wordplay
Their weapons? Pure dynamite. Trump’s January ’25 State of the Union (call it a hunch) is a verbal sledgehammer—“tremendous,” “fantastic,” “crooked elites”—hitting his base like a war drum. Kendrick’s “heart pt. 6,” dropped around then, is a 7-minute gut-punch about fatherhood and fentanyl’s toll, rhymes so dense they demand a second listen. One’s blunt-force trauma; the other’s a slow bleed. Both hit where you live, rewiring your brain—one with slogans, the other with scripture.
The Gonzo Lens: Dueling Gods
I see them in my head, dueling on some astral plane while America burns. Trump, sweating in the Oval Office, posting about “Sleepy Joe” at 3 a.m., even though Biden’s long gone. Kendrick, pacing a studio, scribbling bars about police sirens and broken dreams, a man possessed. Trump’s net worth reportedly spikes in ’25, fueled by Truth Social and loopholes; Kendrick’s pulling bank from GNX and tours, a king without a crown. They’re winning, but for who? Trump’s base cheers as he guts regulations; Kendrick’s fans weep as he mourns the dead on “dodger blue.” Victory’s a funhouse mirror—ugly, distorted, and https://t.co/CQIwPk29Z3 March ’25, the knots tighten. Trump’s “America First” agenda feels like 2016 on steroids, some whispering he’s eyeing a third term, Constitution be damned. Kendrick’s teasing a double album, a “cultural reset” that could redefine hip-hop. They’re defying gravity, bending time, refusing to fade. But here’s the split: Trump thrives on division, a wrecking ball; Kendrick pleads for unity, a cornerstone. Or maybe that’s just the delirium talking.
Conclusion
Forget right or wrong—that’s for cable news hacks and megachurch hustlers. This is about the raw, unhinged pulse of 2024 bleeding into ’25, two titans—Kendrick and Trump—carving their names into America’s fractured soul. They’re the yin and yang of a nation off its hinges, barreling through the zeitgeist like runaway trains on a collision course. This piece is my map to the chaos, scratched out by a half-mad cartographer staring down the abyss. No fear, no mercy—just the truth, screaming to be heard.