My sanctuary (Poem)

This house is broken
like the hearts it hold,
rottening hope now gone
weary like my soul.
The cracks now cry for help,
walls are hopeless,
sheltered but my faith is homeless,
as silence is on bedrest,
I'm by its side praying for the return of its liveliness
but where do I begin
when time won't permit.
I'm sick,
sick of the same shit.
Water flows,
I say stop but
the tap won't listen,
no obedience,
and my wiring is now twisted,

ideas are vanishing,
bulbs are blowing in an instant,
and I'm in this darkness
trying to find my pieces
but it'll be a miracle if they ever fit.

In time this house will become a home again,
brick by brick the proof is already in the pudding.
Inspiring those around it like its former inhabitants,
the nucleus of change for its location.
I am one with it,
feel its foundation slowly strengthening.
I covered it in a bubble of prayer,
it needs blessings.
No ghost resides
so no need to exercise,
demons contrite and departed
now it practices pacifism.
This house will accept nothing but peace,
development, air to breathe.
The cracks will get filled,
sanded down therapeutically,
each and every wall attacked by Elpis!
Faith will be restored
joyful music will invade its core.
This will be a worthy shelter.
This will be a home again!
My home.

Forever my Angel (Poem)

You were just here!

I heard the news
felt the tears
YOU WERE JUST HERE!
Right here...
My hands around your waist,
dinner time we were in no haste.
Talking to me,
telling me tales,
always the protagonist,
the plot always the same
how foe after foe failed
and time after time you prevailed
due to god's divine grace.
Showed me how to stand on my own
believe in myself, set my own goals.
You taught me how to hone my skills
especially under the scrutiny of critics,
fight first cry later
but plot for triumph as each drop hit the pillow.
You're my definition of a soldier,
my confidence's shoulders,
ghetto youths' helper,
a true saviour - messiah.
You sold the tangibles
but none came close to the intangible,
your love was truly remarkable,
you showed us all how to be strong while vulnerable.

You were the foundation
and the pillars.
The building is still firm because now your spirit lies in each brick,
unbelievable strength even at your illest.
I'll love you to the fullest!
Fly my angel,
take your place in the highest of highest.
XoXo

Sonia Hamilton

I lost my grandma 6 days ago. Just re-reading that line gives me the chills. I can't believe how it all transpired. I could recount the order of events for you a million times and it'll still feel surreal. My grandma was my soul, taught me the very basis of love, respect and discipline. There was a point in which I felt like I mattered to no one but her and I vouched to return her kindness with the finest life could deliver, sadly I failed. But this is not about me, it's about the legend that came, stood firm, fight fiercely and departed with honour, great respect and dignity. I always admired my grandma! Something about the way she carried herself, her responses, her storytelling, her strength, her influence always screamed volumes of wonders to me. She touched so many and gave a new definition to the value of a woman so the fact that she was taken from us at all whether at age 100, 80 or 50 seems shocking and unjust but then again that's how we all feel about our departed loved ones, right?

It's been 19 days since my grandma died. To be more specific it's been 18 days 23 hours and 9 mins since my grandma died. I am broken! Feelings on ice like her body awaiting a moment I'll never be ready for. I sit by her window like I use to do as a kid and I let the memories flow, blow me away like the wind, there's so many yet so few at the same time as though we knew each other for short period yet also for a lifetime. I hear loss gets easier over time - I never got that concept. The pain seem to just set up a headquarter somewhere in the mind of the grieving awaiting visits and tears seem to spring without reason. Somehow this paragraph is turning into a poem and that's irritating me. I can't write about this and feel as though I'm doing my grandma justice in any way. I want to shine light on how amazing she was but the thing about legends is, you can't put them into words, no amount of syllables would ever seem fit, you had to encounter their presence to truly feel the power of their essence. I am broken and dismayed not just because my grandma died but because the entire world didn't get to experience her essence, see her smile, witness her fight, admire her dancing, witness her hustle, her compassion, or simply benefit from her smarts. SHE WAS EVERYTHING EVERY WOMEN DREAM TO BE! 

LEGEND

......

My grandma's funeral was 5 days ago and I missed it. I got to see the viewing her body via zoom though. I don't quite know how to put this feeling in words right now. I haven't thought much about it these past couple of days but as I write this I feel like life is slowly being drained from my bones. I feel like there's 10 bodybuilders just sitting on my knuckles and every letter is 10 times harder to type. No matter how much time spent with her it never seems enough, this all seem too soon. I never got to give her the great life she deserved to have lived. I wondered if I done enough for her, did I prepare her breakfasts well enough, clean her room enough, was I roght pushing her to take her medications when she was very reluctant, did I sit and laugh enough with her, should we had have deeper conversations, did I make it abundantly clear how much the whole family appreciated her, I don't know. Most of all I wondered if I gave her her roses - gave her her rightful credit for making me the man I am today. I guess I'll never know. I don't even think ahe remembered my name in the end but I'd take 10 more years supporting her through dementia than 10 more years without her. I keep hearing I should take comfort knowing she's no longer in pain now (her cancer got so bad), I guess I should but it makes me wonder why she had to endure such pain to begin with. Why do any of us? Why does life have to be a 'pain then recovery, then repeat till death' type of path? Why can't we just live.

R.I.P SONIA HAMILTON! PERFECT PEACE

I am my Father's son

  'My condolences', those words combined now sound so alien since ending up on the receiving end of them. I find myself shaking it off every time someone utters it and due to that nonchalant-ness they tend to repeat themselves to ensure I've heard, but what's a befitting response? Do I say thank you as though we've just completed a successful transaction? Or should I lower my head in sincere thought and sadness whilst remaining quiet? Or should I weep? Or do I give the traditional expected response "I can't believe it...I appreciate it"? I've always been the type that wanted people out my face as soon as possible with limited, I take that back, as little to no words exchanged and that still haven't changed so what do I say. Over the years I've tried to be the nicest version of someone I don't even recognized and I think this death has somehow dented this persona I've built. My smiles don't feel real anymore; my sadness seems... Somehow I feel like I'm now in autopilot, as though my everyday actions are being watched by the real me and I'm trying to move, say and do as expected, slowly waiting for this dent to expand into an eventual shatterm, consequently causing myself to regain the person I was before I started this whole nice guy disgusting sprouse. I'm not making sense am I? Kinda like 'my condolences'.

I learned when I was very young what it truly meant to be my Father's son. I came to accept the burdens and perks of such a role from very early on. The thing you should know about my father is he was flawed beyond belief as a father but he was an amazing man otherwise, therefore throughout time I chose to judge him by his actions towards others rather than towards myself. I've heard a few people say lately they can relate to me (not fully but to some degree) because they've lost their dad too, the truth is you can't relate! My condolences. There are things you can't say about the dead so I don't quite know how to follow through with this piece in a respectful way. I feel in some ways my dad like my mom is the foundation on which my knowledge is rooted. My dad taught me the art of selfishness, intelligence, the indifference of love; and the strain of additions; and bad fates; and misguided passion; and emotional independence and so much more I am grateful for. I find myself staring into the open air a lot lately, lost between a thought, a memory, a wish and an expectation then I somehow... I feel mind-boggled, like I'm watching the world from a bird eye's view on a TV screen and there's a big pause sign but somehow the show is still continuing, the world is still turning. Mostly, I feel torn, like I've lost a dad but haven't at the same time, like I've lost a piece of my soul but haven't at the same time, like I've lost more than I can put into words but haven't at... A part of me feels like I need to do what I do best and disappear off the grid, another part feels like I just want to quit my job and everything I do on the side and just click refresh on life. Can I do that? It seems easy. My dad could've done that, no?

Anyway, at his funeral I said a little tribute and it was something along the lines of "my father was a great man. He thought me a great deal, and his lessons and actions really shaped me into the man I've become. Like the rest of us he had his flaws and he had his strengths, he had a lot of qualities we admired and it made him the staple he was in many lives. His greatest skill being his wit and ability to cheer us up even in the darkest of times. We didn't just lose a father, son, brother, uncle, cousin, nephew, friend, we didn't just lose someone close to us, earth lost a great mind, someone who really paved the way for many by simply using his smarts and just being himself. Today we recognized one of the greatest spirit that walked our community. He struggled like the rest of us to make ends meet. Despite his addiction and mistakes he fought to give those around him especially his children the brightest of futures and for that we thank him and acknowledge the place in our hearts he will always hold. R.I.P, we will meet again."

R.I.P HOWARD HAYE! PERFECT PEACE

The year of death is not over

Death. It's a powerful word isn't it. It recently dawned on me how many great minds, wonderful personalities and bright futures have been stolen at the hands of fatalism. I mean as humans we really fight, don't we? I've seen it first hand, when pain hits we try, really try to beat our obstacles to a pulp. It's one thing to override the sadness tied to getting out of bed and committing to jobs we really don't want to die doing but tolerate for economical reasoning day after day, added to the pressure of simply trying to walk in our truths - as our authentic self in a world that seem to can't comprehend that they are fighting to forbid truth on a planet that's in dire need of more candor, compassion and transparency; in addition, we're hit with incurable illnesses, environmental pandemics, political victimization and so forth but despite it all we continue to fight. We're really, really, really fighting, I just don't get why god or the universe or better yet life is on the prosecution's side of the court. Also, I don't get why it's blatant that humanity (our fellow brothers and sisters) regardless of race or other differentiating visual factors are our only hope for enforcing well needed changes and yet we're not helping each other be better and do better: we clnstantly choose to partake in this crab in a bucket, tug of war game against those in amongst us to no avail - we all fall at the hands of death victims if the same pathetic cycle.

2020 was an extremely tragic one not just due to the literal deaths we've all been publicly exposed to but the deaths of our social life, positive psychological state, HOPE and so forth. I think it was prophecied awhile back that 2020 like the year 2000 would bring about unforseen changes on a positive and evolutionary level but there we were feeling stuck (not just at home but also on the spectrum of progress). Maybe it did bring some form of cosmic change. Maybe we've been under the invisible influences of vanity and trivial thoughts for so long we needed a drastic page turner to shake our very core, to remind us of the things and people in life we truly value. The pandemic has been quite eye opening, it shined a light on so much: The government limited amount of power and questionable intelligence; the great divides throughout society; the fragility of mortality; the influences of role models; your will to enact change; personal triggers, systematic racism etc; and probably for the first time ever we endured a state of global instropection. *See there is something new under the sun* Every nation band together to unite against one threat, despite their different strategies to conquer the battle at hand, the greatest win was that we all united against one threat.

Somewhere not too far from your doorsteps another parent has lost a child, a grandparent has been taken, cousin, niece, nephew, aunt, uncle - another life has been stolen at the hands of fate. Somehow my condolences or a roomful of platitudes don't seem to cut it anymore and that heavy feeling of "I should live life to the fullest" seem to be accompanied with a gift wrapped timer because somehow we know we won't stick to that fleeting devotion despite desperately wanting to. Goodbye seems just as temporary, doesn't it? As though you'll one day see that face and hold those hands again and tomorrow may just be the day for such reunions but today the only thing that resonates is the grief of that departure. How do we make a difference we ask ourselves. Personally, I don't know. Death is inevitable! I guess all we can try to do is help those around us while we still can. HELP! Contribute to finding cures, or start rehabilitation centres, or start being a worldwide voice for those suffering from rape or mutually experienced trauma, just start helping, maybe a life or two could be saved if you do. 

I guess we still find ourselves perpetually wondering why does death keep coming? Why doesn't that resilient little fuck acknowledge our efforts and just surrender. Since the millennium has began, it has shown us how close we are treading to the edge of humanity's doom and it's high time we accept the curse of inevitability. What if the saying is true, "there's only one god and his name is death"? I mean all the other gods we serve has only delayed the inevitable right, but death seem to be the only one successfully doing as expected for millenniums. It's a shame such a fate still mortify us and the pain it carries is such a burden despite knowing it's inevitability. The year of death will continue so I guess our job is to live (life to the fullest) while we wait right. Maybe we're all lives hanging from nooses and the only thing we can do is keep the fight, so keep fighting.

New York, NEW YORK!

I always knew I would be in New York someday writing a piece I would remember till the end of my days. I always pictured writing it on a rooftop overlooking a portion of the city that would make me utter the words "THIS IS SO NEW YORK BABY!". I fantasized (yeah let's use that word haha) many times about writing many pieces in this GREAT city as I gleefully suffer from Carrie Bradshaw syndrome (you know what I mean) - inspirational but risque - quite salacious but only in the metaphorical sense - after all I do have a good boy status to uphold, hahaaaha. Though this is not a rooftop, I am 24 stories of the ground overlooking Ms beautiful New York herself, with a glass of champagne to my left, feet up, on the first day of yet again another optimistic year, about to write you something magical so I guess we should both feel blessed right?!? That's rhetorical btw lol. Point is fantasy do come through. So here we go, what can I say about you New York!

                                   ...

It's been 4 nights here in the Big Apple and I received a very astonishing and unwarranted realization whilst on the 80th floor of the Empire state building. There I was looking out over the city, admiring the lights that are desperately trying to swallow the city's darkness and I felt it - the feeling of being lost. At first I thought it related to the city itself you know, as though all the cultures that have woven themselves into the mix along with the constant architectural developments has somehow tricked the city into feeling as though it's lost its initial essence but the truth is it was in regards to the people. From the sky it seemed as though the city had devoured all life form and it dawned on me this is the city to come to when you want to get lost, or simply feel invisible. Even whilst walking around Times Square amongst very, very few souls (thanks to the fear of covid), I still felt invisible, as though there was a bubble around each cluster that converse with each other.

To you this may be a sad thing but to me it's probably the definition of a dream come true. See I realized when I was younger, the times I've felt most comfortable in my skin is when I'm walking through the most seemingly deserted territories or when I'm in the corner of a dark room with nothing but my thoughts. Unfortunately, over time a lot has changed, maybe it started with the crack of the door to that dark room letting just a preview of light in or the sight of possible life on one of those deserted streets but somehow I was enticed by change. And then it happened, like New York city I'm consumed by more than I can handle. Despite the apparent beauty of one's  growth so many mistakes have been made along the way. I grew to accept the lights I've let into my world, I accepted all the clarity that came with embracing changes, I accepted the fact that I'll never look in the mirror and truly feel like I know this person I'm looking at, but most of all I accepted the fact that I now feel found or better yet visible. See the thing you should know about me is the light brings clarity but it doesn't bring joy or genuine self assurance, I only knew myself, and I mean truly knew myself and loved the person I was when I was surrounded by darkness, lost between carriages in my train of thoughts, forgetting humanity had opinions thanks to the blank walls surrounding my sanity. Anyway back to New York!

There I was amongst others looking out from one of the tallest point in the city and despite the breathtakingly beautiful view all I was seeing was how much of the city hasn't been exposed to the light! And in that moment I understood why I felt that feeling of 'lost'. I think in order for me to find that vessel my soul ripped itself from just to taste the wonders of this world, I HAVE TO MOVE TO NEW YORK! I was informed that after the Twin towers was hit, it was built back and is now known as The Freedom tower, so maybe that's what we should title this year, 'The year of liberation'. Sometimes, something colossal need to  takes place for us to know in our hearts without an ounce of doubt what needs to be done to progress. I think what I'm saying is don't let fear be your guide in life, let revelations, inclines and your instincts steer your way and no matter how ludicrous your decision may seem stand behind them because maybe doors you can't even fathom will begin to open. Trust your decisions and make the most of every footstep that follows. 

I wish this tale was one about New York's fashion, beautiful sites or it's spontaneous promiscuous nightlife but it's just a tale about how another person have been saved by an apple (like Adam and Eve was in my opinion). NOW THAT'S AN APPLE SHOT! New York, NEW YORK I guess you're the next city on my slaughter list, I'll be seeing you real soon kid.

I can't find me!

I think it happened at age 23, 'cause that's the last time I remember feeling fine. As a kid I would look around and I would see other kids wanting to be this and that, having all the aspirations in the world but they were never focused on who they were in the present - I always was. As an adolescent, I would see others I was surrounded by struggling to find themselves, trying to grow at the pace society pressured them to keep up with and I didn't need to, I was already in my own lane, very sure of the person I was. At age 18, I was very much a staple in my mind, someone unmatched, someone who simply didn't give a fuck about those that didn't agree with what he stood for or who he is and very much satisfied being seen as an island away from the mass. I was this guy who relentlessly spoke his mind and went the uncalled distance to back it up if things escalated. By 19, I was living alone very much invested in writing and subconsciously finding his zen, so I invited 'the calm' into my spirit. At 20, I embarked on enforcing more changes than I can sufficiently put into words. At age 23 I decided to make some really bold moves, took one too many wrong turns and that was the onset of the avalanche that I now refer to as 'the sad identity crisis'. I stand by everything I did but the person in the mirror seems blurrier everyday. Is that relatable?

I realized early on in life that I didn't feel 'normal', I just thought my emotional clocks turned differently. Use to think of myself as some type of earth invader, sent to understand emotions and reactions then report back. It took me awhile to work out how to emit a particular feeling as weird as that sound and so I taught myself the art of reciprocal energy very very very early on in life. Meaning I will treat you exactly how you treat me - it's only fair, right? It made life easy. Somewhere after age 23, after trespassing on one too many forbidden paths, I was swarmed by a lot of emotions from others and I started to feel more human than ever before, probably because it was the first time I truly saw the face of hurt - I really looked into its eyes you know. I guess the act of reciprocation became difficult after that. I always say my favourite historian is Rosa Parks because she taught the population the most powerful word in history, "NO"! Once upon a time that was so effortless to say. Now years later I've become a lot more lenient, forthcoming and 'nice'... Not just reciprocal niceness, actually a nice person... I guess that's the major contributor to this blurry image.

I have these moments now where I find myself trapped between the image of the past and the one of my present - legit trapped - I would often astro project and see the present me in the middle of a tug of war. Somehow I'm just trapped. And there are some moments in which I am lucky enough to carve my way through the niceness of my present self to speak my true desires and there are other moments I sit still admire the past and/or acknowledged me fucking up my present. There's things I would never had stood for at age 22 that I just let slide now and it's more disappointing than astonishing tbh. I think a few years back when things took a turn for the worst, I told myself I should try and 'naturally feel' something, anything, and ever since then everytime I utter those words I open the door to another mistake. It works though, I do feel now! Or at least I tell myself this is how others should actually feel in a particular situation and I assume that is exactly what I'm feeling. The emotions feel a lot more natural than they did growing up. I feel sadness, joy, temporary satisfaction... The crave to continue trying to feel became so strong I stopped fighting, surrendered and continued to dig my emotional grave. At this point there's too much dirt under the carpet to ever be the person I once was or to be proud of the one I am now, so finding that old me is damn near impossible. He'll just have to remain trapped. I feel human now. I guess that's the only way to put it, I genuinely feel human. It's scary and probably stupid in the eyes of y'all.

Maybe the problem is not finding myself, maybe it's not being able to return home. I mean maybe I am from Jupiter as I had often joked and being here on earth has taken a toll on my system and I can no longer function how I use to. Maybe like Adam and Eve I've bitten into something forbidden and 'feeling' is my punishment. Maybe this was always my fate and that trapped soul is just a victim like many others to the changes he started but now refuse to accept. Maybe I passed the point of no return a long time ago and I should just surrender to the humans' ways. Or maybe my people is still on the way to rescue me and they're severely delayed - let's hope. Or maybe I just have to figure out how to find my new balance because like Pinocchio I'm human now. Or maybe I just need to start expressing how I feel again rather than trying be nice, maybe that's the recipe to finding joy again, right?

Hood Sack Festivities

This christmas I'm pulling up on santa;
Imma grip him up, tell him I need a public romp,
unwrap his gift right there to feel that cold front,
get him hotter than magma

when I give it a good rub.
Then I'll tell him where I'll be later on.
He better park that sledge out front
then tie them reindeers up
'cause they'll wanna run when their little PG ears 

hear the action that's going down.
I been plotting, waiting for the 25th,
now it's midnight, 

only my socks and a jockstrap on, 

feet up waiting by the chimney 

playing some festive joints.
Got the scene ready for ya - you smell that pine?
I see your gut, I know you got one hell of an appetite

so your beard is my sledge for the night!
Shhh don't talk.
I don't need to know about your past
right now I'm the ghost of your present
"RAHHHH!" 
Don't be shook, just saying we could do this raw!
Follow the pin
cum to my hood,
I'll work you out good good,
and you better be ready to go hard
after all today is your busiest day of all.
If it's up to me these kids wouldn't see ya till tomorrow.
If you put these cuffs on, trust I'll have your body in paradise till tomorrow.

I got that cookie you can eat for days
and milk that vary in taste;
I got a no dribble tolerance
so swallow every drop 
you'll get some christmas smacks if you waste.
And I don't need a mistletoe
to spit in your throat and give you a good choke,
get you redder than Rudolph's nose, 
sweat till you lose more weight than them fools fucking with keto.
I got a kilo,
it'll get you higher than them reindeers do.
Heard you from the north pole 
well imma north side nigga so I guess this pole is your new home.
Get on top get comfortable.
It's your duty to deliver peace, yep constable,
so cite this piece 'cause it's disrupting the peace,
shiiiiiiiit hardcore public enemy,
walking around giving the baddest of them deep long beats
wetting up sheets.
Notorious for popping, 
I'm talking cherries not gats or Mary
but shit can get that bloody,
if you're into that freaky shit and wanna get thotty,
there's no limits to hood sack festivities.
In fact invite some elves
we can start a naked trainset,
oh and tell 'em bring some toys, 
the freakier the better, they don't need to be coy.

I vote me, still I wish you well

4 years ago I was at the foot of another presidential election - my first presidential election - but despite the same quantity of publicised low blows somehow nothing feels quite ironic this time around. Anyway, I was living with three cool strangers at the time and a debate about immigration brought to light a few differences in opinions. I am pro immigration, mainly because I'm an immigrant but more importantly, I feel everyone should be given the opportunity to have a better life and be able to help their family and friends back home, that are less fortunate than they are. To be honest I don't care if they enter a country illegally or through the proper channels just as long as they hustle and be aware there's consequences for their approachs. I remember one of the reasons that arised against immigration was the data that exposed the surprisingly low number of immigrants that after emigrating and achieving success then turned around to help their country or their loved ones - I was mindboggled. For the life of me I couldn't figure out why there were so many people that turned their backs on doing the 'right thing'. I thought there were more people like myself! I admit I came across a few on the other side of the coin but I chopped it up to selfishness or just the admittance of defeat, still the statistics was edged deep in my mind ever since that cold night in November. I just couldn't understand not wanting to help those who needed it or at least sharing a fraction of the joy you felt on the more developed side of the fence. It took 4 years but I finally understand the heart of 'The selfish'.

I never considered myself a religious or spiritual person despite my religious affiliations or beliefs growing up but I think my soul was always subconsciously spiritual. For as long as I could remember my mind has always echoed the words "no hard feelings, I wish you well", and I never truly understood why, so I chopped it up to the swift efforts of my soul trying to cling to the residue of what little positive, optimistic energy the universe served me after each betrayals and let downs I endured. I was wrong! I knew for awhile now that my soul was unravelling but I chose to pay very little attention because I knew my foundation (family) would remain intact, I was wrong! If there's one thing you should know about me it's that I was built on family values - unstable values - none out of love but pure loyalty and I stood by those values and fight to develop love so it could be the glue for all these loyal components to hold together. However, circumstances repeatedly led me to assess the actions of my family and sadly I hear the words get louder in my mind time after time "no hard feelings, I wish you well", nonetheless helping them and giving back to my country has always been at the forefront of my actions. I sacrificed more than I can put into words in pursuit of fighting for others before I would myself. Truth is I can't remember the last time I put myself first or did anything just out of pure selfishness beyond buying a few pieces of clothings and the sad truth is that doesn't sadden me; it's a price I chose to pay a long time ago and I became at peace with that. Unfortunately, like I said my soul has slowly been unravelling and after 25+ years of fighting for those I call blood so is my foundation, so are my values.

4 years ago I couldn't picture why anyone would not want to help strengthen the country they fled or help better the conditions of those they call family but I get it now. See lately I came to the realisation that sometimes no matter how important someone is to you and vice versa, personal pride sometimes trumps love and so does blind faith. You can walk in your truth and try to ensure others know it's ok for them to do the same but even those closest to you have an idea of what they want you to be and rather than fighting for the you presented to them, they choose to fight for the you they want to see. That's fine but before you put aside everything you deeply desire for yourself and fall victim to the image they want to see, think about who really suffers at the hands of someone else's happiness. The truth is that person no matter how dear is fighting for themselves so why should you feel guilty for doing the same. Silencing your character ends in 2 ways - resentment or suicide, neither should be a choice. I won't make neither a choice! The way I see it there's only one decision that ends well... I choose to wish you the very best, may we all recieve success in our future endeavors. NO HARD FEELINGS!

Someone reluctantly asked me a few days ago 'are you happy', I told them the truth : happiness was never on my agenda I'm good feeling good with being good. This individual thought that was stupid, "everyone should aim to be happy!" he said. Truth is I purposely steered off that path for the pursuit of personal happiness a very long time ago because this world wouldn't understand how far from normal my idea of happiness is and it didn't fit the mission at hand (to give back). Not to mention I think that idea/picture has drastically morphed into something I can't quite decipher as of late and I don't care to investigate, so I chose to be good just solely focused on opening doors for my family and for my country. However, after everything I've come to realised lately, I think it's time to fall back and help from a safe distance better yet let everyone help themselves from now on! I want those that played a part in my growth to know I thank you for more than you'll ever know, and I really hope you fight to give yourself the absolute best because I'm going to work on giving myself just that... All the best!

SURVIVOR'S GUILT

I'm from a place I would never trade being from given the option. It's small, broken in more ways than one, flawed and so forth but it has more potential than one can put into words and the vibrant, infectious spirit of my people could light up the darkest of lands. It's a country that's filled with survivors and winners! I love my city; NO, I LOVE MY COUNTRY! After you leave a place you're fond of, and start to inhale the perks and joy of a new land, you realise how many things you missed and things you never had the chance to achieve or partake in due to that place not having the capacity to deliver. You also start to understand how toxic your past environment may have been and how much of a blessing living in a new territory is. Throughout this process of realisation, that overwhelming sense of love you have for such place may start to dwindle and a strong feeling of pity, sorrow, and disgust; and appreciation; and possibly regret may develop but it's key to remember a tree is strongest at its roots no matter how damaged those roots may seem, it's worth nurturing them the best you can). I feel like I'm digressing... Keep reading.

I think when you're from where I'm from or just poverty in general, every one thinks of escapism in their own way and to their own extreme. But when you finally escape, I think no one truly accounts for the guilt that streams from the tears you shred for those you left behind, or those that you helped escaped, only to witness them wasting the opportunities life has granted or those life gave a chance to escape whilst in the same breath stealing their safety net leading to their death or misfortunes. I've seen people give up on life rather quickly and I understand why. Where I'm from people tend to think once you 'escape' to a foreign country then you are living gloriously, that you're simply not in real need of riches or those past needs have significantly lessen - that's a big fallacy. I can honestly say despite being a product of the ghetto I truly didn't realised the true harshness of living until I moved overseas - mass wrong convictions, homelessness (sleeping on floors,  or witnessing how many bodies can fit on a bed or a sofa), starvation, spiritual bankruptcy, paedophilia, human trafficking, the harsh reality of a 9-5, police brutality, idle murder, discrimination, escorting, racism, rape, suicide, drugs, abandonment, abuse, fraud, cyber bullying and the list continues. Don't get me wrong these exist in third world countries but not to such extreme. The 6 degree of separation then falls to 2. I've experienced a few of the listed and I can say it makes you thankful to look in the mirror and still be able to genuinely smile.

I know people that would kill to be in my situation and it hurts because I feel like I'm not making the most of my position regardless of how hard I try. I would be working my ass off and it still feels like I'm not doing my people justice. It's as though I have taken an ounce of motivation and sheer will power from each of them and it's being wasted on the efforts of a 9-5 job or lacking to successfully promote my passions rather than charging full force into building an empire. I remember there was a time in my life I would work 2 jobs and I will go home write and record videos, then sleep 2-4hrs and repeat day after day and I would still feel like I was doing the bare minimum - years later and here I am treading the same lines, feeling unhelpful, as well as a sense of impeding anticlimactic destruction and I'm not sure if I want to move out the way of this runaway train coming at me.

I can say I've always thought that in some way, shape or form I would be a positive impact on my country like Bob Marley or Marcus Garvey and I feel thankful to have made it this far but even writing these posts makes me feel a sense of bitterness sometimes. Like I'm not truly fulfilling my purpose just simply buying time or wasting it to avoid doing what I should be doing. Truth is I feel guilty about being the one to have escaped the cold brash force of the ghetto when so many people deserve the opportunity, I feel even worse knowing that by now, more than a decade later after leaving my country, some other soul could have been a millionaire opening schools and bettering the fundamentals of my country to better the lives of my people and yet I have not. I feel 'sometimes' like the wrong person was given this opportunity but here I am. I just shred a tear and continue to hustle. As I write this I'm thinking about all the mess I've been through, and how insignificant every giant step I try to take feel. It's bizarre how my footsteps could feel so cosmic and trivial at the same time. I came across a girl yesterday, I met awhile back and though my encounters with her prior to yesterday was limited to small talk, the joy she expressed from seeing me is edged in my brain, it made me think that maybe I brought that joy to the lives of many, and for a moment it soothe my 'why me' conundrum. But if all I'm here to do is make people feel good that's not enough and it begs the question what is enough. When will I feel like I'm doing enough?

I think we're all familiar with PTSD right? I think that's what this is. I'm not trying downplay it or say its the same extreme soldiers or moms post birth suffer from but I think an ongoing raging war with your soul fucks with your mental in the same manner. I been through a lot to get the little I got in this life, I fought a lot more demons than I care to discuss and endured far more than I wanted to but I done it to get by and to help my family. I can't apologise for that and I shouldn't have to, similarly to this survival complex I am enduring. God made his or her choice and we all just have to live with it. I'm not in the position I'd like to have been in at this point in my life but here I am. We make decisions we have to live with so deal with your haunting truths unapologetically. I will say that I still believe I will make a change so cosmic, it's revolutionary and this world won't ever forget it - that's just my destiny. I just hope that along the way I can help my country, my people, my family, the ones I love and the man in the mirror (especially the latter) in more ways than expected/wished.