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Ideall Clothing by TheLegendsLeague
Now available ONLINE

For some, this is new. For others it will be a reminder.
Thanks for paying attention as much as you all have.
Love&Above.

be.

Re-Occur

So I stomped my bed so hard that my back lifted from the mattress and my shoulders pressed into the pillows underneath me; my eyes squeezing out tears and my jaw stretching open til the veins in my neck were pressing out of the skin like a wire hanger creases your undershirts. I could feel the spit attach from my lower to upper teeth and would grunt a heap of relief as soon as I could surpass the panting from the exhaustion.

You swear this is a game.

My nails long and jagged from being shottily cut 2 months prior rip through the skin on my thighs, pinking the skin then stinging.. then feeling wet.. not with blood, but whatever it is that yellows a scar to a crusted scab when it does.. and then stinging.

Next door i can hear my ’sister’ singing off key and the television way too loud in my dad’s room. My mom is in her room probably sleeping underneath a book she’s tired of reading. I’m face deep in a pillow screaming with a scar across my cheek fresh enough to attach itself to the sheets if I stick around for too long. I’m tired of hearing the same old song but she’ll keep going until the phone rings.

I drink 8 oz of rum, pop a few pain killers, a few sleeping pills, and some zoloft before walking myself backwards up the wall; my bare feet pulling the bed sheet right off and my neck against the ‘hate’ piece covering the holes I had punched through the walls over the years. I smash my head against the wood panel but nobody hears. I do it over. and over. hoping for brain damage, hoping for a forgetful wake up into 1992 before this all came to an explosive crumble. We applauded ourselves so goddamn much that the avalanche was bound to come tumbling down.

I yell and hear echoes,
never a response.

I am not you and for that i am grateful.
You are not me and should never wish for it.

In my closet is the skeleton for success – a writing inside the inside panel of the sliding door that used to be there, scribed the crying, lying with a lampshade, a life of hiding from a man who never made me learn how to become a man.

Hate and love are so close they cuddle.

As I die to go to sleep, screamed in sheets, what I breathe just muffles and I hear my dad react to something funny that Howie Mandel just said. I prop my head up, now on my stomach going sideways along the bed like kanye, me, and my boy thomas know how to fit 3 by the head and 3 by the leg. The sheet tangles my left ankle and I’m at such an angle that if i try to kick it off it’d probably get worse. Now I’m searching for the plastic 10-12oz cup with the flowers on it that’s half full once again with something that’s about to make me feel like daisies.

(In this age, the pot is broken and hip-hop is dead. So they say. In reality I was raised not on it, but by it. Given my own biases I drove past the bullshit quick and became a listener.)

Again, I hear, ’sister’ but now she yells my name, followed by, “Phone”.
I clear my throat and answer it..

“hello?”

You talk so much about yourself that you barely notice I’ve put a wire hanger in the bottom of my eyelid and am pulling until this yanking dream stops keeping my eyes glued closed.

deep.
deep.
deep breath through the nose.

Now wipe that pain off your face fucker, it’s just about time for the show.

Welcome To The Legends League

My homey Skam from LiveStock Toronto just sent me this pic of The Legendary DJ Jazzy Jeff and his homey both rocking the Die Enormous Ideall Clothing toques.

It’s cold as fuck out here in Toronto (snowing today).. so I don’t blame ‘em.

Pick up your Ideall Clothing HERE