Confused: Clarity

Everywhere I Walk I Drop Ink; But I’m not a pen, I'm connected to evil like a link; but I’m not a sin, Wise in Mind, Old Man, Give me a pair of sox, But what makes you think I’m going to wear a pair of docks, But I like those shoes; I’m similar to a paradox? I have these repetitive repetitions, repeatedly re-stating, That, "Everywhere I Walk I Drop Ink; But I’m not a pen, I'm connected to evil like a link; but I’m not a sin," Oops did I say that again, did I mention that I keep my phone Locked? That I don't even like to make sense, it’s like a ambiguous paradox in imagination. I like black but I like white too, but what is the difference, it’s like an impossible comparison, And what about this girl I knew I loved, I brainstormed her nose, eyes and ears, now she's a part of my conceptions. Everything happens In my head I’m sorry for that fact, but at least I made you look like beauty, it is possible consideration. And I thought about that before loving you, it is deliberation. Diminishing deliberation, dike’d out from personalities, The difference dissimilarity, indifference's our commonalities, You deprive reduction, resistant increase to change, Similar stimulating studies, mmmh? That's why you don't act the same? Separated, special, & too simple don’t you dare intermingle, And I'll keep writing these miss-conceptions but you’re Not Mrs. Conception, I'll Make sure you stay single. No grenade, I am not jumping in front of no train, I’m not catching any stars, and I’m sure as hell, I’m not Talking Bruno Mars!! It’s your entire fault that we're the colorless renegades!! It's like no people, a stillborn reality, like balloons with no air!! Oh yeah I just described a meaningless parade! And that you make it hard for me to breathe, Like A Cartoon character without a nose they make it seem easy, But somehow they have a sense to smell love through a odor-less breeze. Like a river full of blood-filled hearts and flesh eating piranhas, You distance yourself while you fight us, similar to breezy and Riana, You know how you get lost with warm chocolate, But I get tired of you trying to lose yourself like Eminem, And you fight to the death of me, but how do you exaggerate, exaggeration, do tell me? …Rick Ross Is Humongous, but that’s not a hyperbole, People see me and think oh big bad meanie, “what the hell kind of Irony?” I Plant seeds and watch giant roots sprout houses on squids but they don’t cease, I’m not talking about the hulk, or the green giant, I’m talking about bikini bottom down under Percy Priest! Every year I notice the eclipse, the black sun I soar the Son of a God of Poetry, "I is Percy Jackson!" Wait, was that a grammatically incorrect metaphor, so have you met a phore? Because with her, I don’t remember things or parts bearing fashionably in love; through this un-perilous fight. The United States has red, white, and blue colors; I live in a world of oxymorons; Black And White. “Looks like We Can Go Back 50 Years to the Old Films, because I’m a Clarity: Confused Antonym.”