A Few Writings…

I didn’t want to include what I had written in the earlier blog post so below is a rap I wrote while listening to some music (it will be below manga picture) and dealing with a friend who was being selfish at the wrong time for me to blow it over 🙂

A rap:
So many hours slip by
And I’m stuck in a room fading
Living off caffeine and the lull of an absent high.
Dealing with a family that sees depression as a reason to keep berating.
Yet, I don’t feel as alone
Just see a girl in the mirror reaching for her soul.
Maybe I’m not yet like Arthur pulling dreams from a stone,
But I survived growing up, past being just a tadpole.
I don’t know the struggle
of fighting for a dollar 
Don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in a tunnel
Surrounded by those who say you’ll never be as good as a scholar.
I can’t change my past to be more tragic
but that would be a curse, not magic.
All I can know is, that their is and will always be a struggle
that the world will keep on turning by making those in need juggle.
Yea. I’m gonna be a fool.
Mess up everything from weight, words to love
go through as many kaneki’s as a ghoul
inspectors endless list of doves.
I can’t hide the fact I’m a mess
like a man lit on fire in church
for trying to leave his swamp birch.
sometimes you can’t help being the cheapest piece in chess.
But no one can take away my hope
no power can rip me to shreds
except the power i give to myself to grab my rope
and destroy the safety I have in my own head.
Even in the darkest night
when devils and demons come out 
with all those who have already suffered in sight
I don’t need to rely on G-d, or others to fight my own bout.
I am stronger then they want me to be
because I have survived the endless night
survived a worth dependent on how well I use thee
and continue to see life as a breathtaking fight.
I.L. Knight


Somehow, I ended up writing a rap this thanksgiving break. I guess after a night of terrors and watching a homemade movie of old memories kind of made me emotional.

Coming home is meant to feel so good
Remembering the joys of childhood.
But we gather around this awkward table
just looking through distorted eyes and throwing labels.
You’re fatter, stupider more of a fag.
G-d maybe they should make like Grey and invest in some gags.

The Apple Cider will be flowing
And mom will be counting the hours till going.
But my concern is a lip-lock
so potent and dangerous like Socrates and hemlock.
I better not drink or I’ll die.
Don’t need to be another thinking they’ve been crowned by versailles.

My head hurts, I could be pregnant
With a peasant’s kid
Whose floated through my life like a cheap ass tenant.
Isn’t this shit supposed to be magical and pleasant?
Jesus Christ, provide this selfish fool with an exit.
Or at least something like on last happy remnant.

I’m too young to be tired and sick
vowed to never be like my mom, dependent on a redneck hick.
And yet I’m tired from a free kick,
looking for magic and hope from a broomstick,
measuring the time till death with a yard stick,
In awe by a candle’s light able wick,
And remembering the times I’d lick a dick
like some kept chick,
now just wanting it to hurt from more then just a flick.
Fucking men and their schtick.

I should of cut deeper,
lived my life cheaper,
and took more meds to be a sleeper.
Then maybe the Heaven’s score keeper
Will see me as a more then the mistreated door keeper.
I can be the victor of a game keeper
And avoid praying for the grim reaper.

If college and home don’t work,
Then maybe I’ll do more then drift through life like a lurk.
And be more then my sororities quirk.

Shit, Y’all. I’m tired.
And already dreaming of being retired. 
Whose got the time to try and be desired.
It’s not like I have hope to be inspired
or someone’s heart required.
All I am is tied up and wired.

I.L. Knight


Something’s Gotta Give-All Time Low

A New Battle

Part of the dilemma of having insomniac periods is that a lack of sleep ruins a lot of things in your body. One of those in your sanity. It’s why no one wants to diagnosis me with the more fun labels. They say, “let’s clear the sleeping issues,” over and over again. For awhile, even I thought that maybe my breaks from sanity were really just from the fact I don’t sleep. Then, after a week of being close to a normal sleeping schedule (which I got miraculously after quitting my anxiety meds), I had an episode. It’s not something I’m normally comfortable speaking about. Joking about insanity, and blogging about depression is one thing, but taking the step to admit that I may be bi-polar or schizophrenic is another. It’s the step no one wants to take right now. I guess I have too though. I had a horrible hallucinatory episodes. Thirty minutes after I fell asleep, I woke up to scratches on the walls, that same horrible voice telling me everything I fear was in the room and the horrible sight of a person that won’t go away. My roommate heard me spring up and whimper and cam running into my room. Seeing as I’ve never shared with him that mental illness has taken the path towards insanity, I had to lie about was going on. I sat their silent, grim faced, looking out at the person. Two minutes later I managed to tell him I was fine, it was just a nightmare. He went back to his room. Too bad it was a lie. The image and noises didn’t go away for thirty minutes. Afterwards, I had a sudden panic attack that wouldn’t settle for three hours. It wasn’t something I could control. It was something that left me with a sleepless night. A night that I tried to fix by drinking. All it did was leave me in a rap battle with one of the Frat kids I knew, that was up for none partying reasons at 4 a.m. It’s the night after and I already feel the residual fear and panic surfacing in me. I know it will be another sleepless night. Hopefully, there will be no images or alcohol. I could even avoid a break from really bad white rapping skills. I’ll say this though. When it comes to exercise or panic attacks. Only rock and rap will get me through.

A weary,
I.L. Knight
My Rap:
Hold up.
I don’t know if I wanna start
It’s been awhile since I’ve torn myself apart.
Holding on to all these images
Of some young white girl
And the Jewish Privilege.
I’m not as stable as I want to be.
Just the product of wrath, jealousy, boredom
of the nouveau-riche wannabe.
But you challenge me to fight
Thinking that born to money
is some G-d given right.
That’s my problem with you.
That your attitude is as infectious
as the common flu.
You just keep bringing this all back
Trying to make me ok
With racism, bigotry, sexism and sexualizing my rack.
That same shit left me alone
struggling for my sanity.
Searching for the magical fantasy
where my worth is fixed by my moan.
You will come at me about my color,
Hell I know albino
makes me unique to a certain squalor.
Yes, I know you think I’m part
Of this imaginary religious throne
That I fail at finding
the ideal satisfier of some hormone.
But maybe before you drop crap
about some fat girls 
simple rap.
You re-examine your own self worth
because I’d bet a dollar the dead are rolling on your birth.
Thinking you’d be some mighty king.
The David and Goliath of their small, bought ring.
Yet, their left with a little boy paying
for friends, grades, girls and the right to be seen
like an individual whose been praying.
Worry less about what other’s say
And maybe you’ll be the one the gospel will praise for your return from stray.
You can be one of the masses who hears your Lord’s sway.
Now I’ll be nice, end it here
Unlike you who talks with money and childish fear.
I stand, arms wide to my flaws.
Not some simple follower
but the maker of the future supreme laws.
P.s. Rap battles don’t ruin friendships… just to point out (it’s meant to hit weak points)

What a week…

I know I am suppose to be better at posting and trust me it is still one of my goals. But this was just too hectic of a week for me to sit down and write something. Now that the week is over I’m all down for writing. I’ll start with a quick explanation of my week. Basically, I had an essay due Tuesday and a midterm on Thursday. I will not make excuses I was very much out of it this past week and this current week. So my essay happened to be written at 6 am the day it was due and i barely studied at all for my midterm. By the time Friday rolled around I was dependent on the news of my friend coming to town to fix my soul. This is the hectic part: my weekend. Friday was spent partying all night with my friend. Saturday I tried to catch up on work, but really just spent time eating Oreos and peanut butter with my friend. That night I had to pull a Second all nighter for sorority. Sleep finally happening at eleven am Sunday. After five hours I had to wake myself up to suffer so I could fall asleep again later that day and hopefully sleep through the night. The kicker of the week happened Sunday for me. I had been thinking about for awhile taking a semester off to take an Internship in North Carolina. I thought it would be good for me to return home and be in the environment I love. I don’t think it’s a secret I am currently lost and panicking way too much these days. Well, telling my grandma and my mom what I was considered turned into a huge headache. Although, also telling them I wanted to die my hair purple and that I messaged the father I’ve never met for names for a school genealogy assignment didn’t help the situation either. My grandma was most upset about the hair. My mother was upset about the Facebook message I sent. I guess the response of, “too little too late, sorry I am not here to be used and abused like this so…sorry but can’t help you take care of yourself and best wishes.” didn’t go down with a mom who already felted enraged by a fathers complete lack of caring for there sire. Trying to calm her down was more stressful then the actual message. I have many issues and weirdness, but having father issues over this man is not one of them. It may sound cold but I gave two shits about the man or ever pursuing a relationship. I just wanted an A on my assignment. I figured if he denied, I could show the message to my prof and be like “Welp. I tried.” But my mother, she freaked out. Laced into me about looking for answers and how he only signed my Canadian papers because his mother embarrassed him. I think there was also something about letting him stab my heart. I can assure you there was no such stabbing. This week really did end on weird note though. Not only am I exhausted and tired, but now I’m having to somehow formulate plans for all the weird thoughts and things around me. I really, really hate plans. If I could be anything, I suppose I would be some combination of way-word wanderer, drifter, lonely biker and isolated academic librarian. I think that role would suit me. 

Just a thought,
I.L. Knight


I’m so tired- The Beatles

Wake Me Up When September Ends- Green Day

Tired Eyes- Neil Young


P.s. I am posting parts of the raps that occurred in my head on my drunk Friday escapade. 
RAP BATTLE: I.L. vs. Roommate (Rap of his written by me)
Yo Mr. Shin
Your the man made of tin.
Looking for a new heart
Just made up of old parts.
Yo Ms. Grace
Dependent on the Kawaii face.
Time to step up your game
Don’t just be the queen of the lame.
The next is just the last half of a long rap I did when I was out. I don’t have the whole thing :
I’m the mother fucking queen of my castle
a curtain with 92 fucking tassels
I’m epic
Making dough through the crowd of hectics
Don’t step up to me
Unless you’re ready to pay the toll fee
Because I got nothing to hide
Life’s just a joy ride
I have nothing to fear
There’s nothing to make me shed a tear.

-Sorry for the sailor mouth <3