Fulfillment

No difficulties here. Heh. I'm tripping, right now, sitting in a library about 8 stories up, thinking that the world is a much larger place than previously speculated. As of late, I have been posing questions to myself, wondering if I died today, would I feel complete? Would I be fulfilled?

Quickly, the question becomes, "Am I fulfilled?" Do I feel as if I have accomplished all that I set out to? Emphatically, no. Yet, I have striven for change and purpose and love and God, and I have found them all.

It is a wonder that some people commit suicide contemplating this life. It is sometimes a bit much to bear. Sometimes we just cannot let go of the past. At times, we feel we have no other choice. As the Good Book notes, it is a sin to kill anyone, even yourself, and you will pay for it in the fires of Hell. I don't take the Bible as literally as some folks, because it just wouldn't make sense to see it that way, but Hell could be something we have never thought of, something our feeble human minds cannot grasp.

The world is a much larger place that previously mentioned. I find myself at ease with seeing it all shine so bright in one moment, and be depressingly stark in others. It is the good and the bad, the give and the take, which balances this universe fully. One would be insignificant without the other. Best believe it.

To Anthony (a letter)

Dear lil' bro, I feel you man. I know it's hard when you love someone and you have to let it go. Through no fault of your own, she decided to leave, and it's okay kid. It's always darkest just before dawn, they say.

We are very gifted, all of us. The three of us will do such great things, that we must be prepared to find those people that will make us better. People are in our lives for a reason or a season. Find the reason and thank God for the blessing.

There is so much I wish I could talk to you about in person. When I look at you and Antoine it makes me recall my own childhood, it makes me happy to see myself in you both. Strong. Confident. Handsome. Talented. Full of potential.

I miss you man, and one day I will sit down and talk to you about my college days, my hopes, my fears. This is all here for you to read. Be encouraged dear brother. We are bonded.

Love you.

All the best.
Big Bro

Reparations?

Damn. Went to work and ya boy is actually off...so for this not to be a loss, I gotta hit the gym hard.

Yesterday I was at work and I spotted these 2 black dudes sitting in a black explorer. The cat on the passenger side was looking dead at me so a gave him the nod and went about my business. 2 minutes later I came back and they were still there, but this time the dude beckoned to me, "Hey bruh, can I ask you a question?" I said, "Yeah, kid, what's up?"

He was like, "Man, do you think American owes Black folks anything?" Easy enough question for me to answer. "Hell yeah", said I. "The thing is, how we gonna collect? What can we do about it?"

The dudes proceeded to give each other dap, laughing in agreement. "Hell yeah, man. We wit you on that. We gone take it. We gone take it back." There was seriousness in his tone, and for a second, I was alarmed by it. Take it back how?

My boy Gene works with me, and this dude is from Liberia. He was walking out just as I was finishing the conversation, and they asked me to ask him to come over. Later I asked him what he said to the question, and he said "I told them they owe Black people more than they could pay."

Damn. That's real. And that's coming from a dude who was born in Africa.

A Man Apart

I feel free now, and I believe it a true statement when I say I don't want to be with her anymore. Thinking on it as often as I have, it's better this way. Mainly because I am just so much healthier and in control than I've felt in so long. Even though I am a bit weirded out by the feeling of alienation that I receive from the people I met through her, I know we can never be. It really is over, and for a while I fought to maintain something, a piece of what we had, but to no avail. In my mind, I don't think what I did constituted such a reaction from her, but I am not her, and I don't have the right to say anything about her feelings. In the release, I feel awesome, and I can only remark about my own situation. I know God is more important, and self is more important. So I hope that in whatever struggles she endures, whomever she meets, may they treat her well. But there is no more for me to say or do. I am spent, and all I can do is walk away. I broke her heart, and I take the responsibility and I will own it forever.

Remember that Ralph Tresvant song "Break Her Heart" or "Do What I Gotta Do"? Whatever it's called, it sums up the whole thing for me...the whole breakup. "I gotta do what I gotta do and break her heart, cause though I love the girl I know that the best thing is for us to be apart...".

Goodbye Christie. My love is with you always. God bless.

This is all I have and all I will ever say about this subject to anyone. It is dead to me. Don't ask me, don't tell me, I don't wanna hear anything anymore related to the subject.

The Watcher, III or Falls the King

Some say the world will move on. Yet, what would it move on to?
Watching, cataloging ambitious jests
and surly men crouching like hungry beasts
to feed, to fulfill, to breed
and follow the irony in the culmination of experience.
They are slaves.
Rambling, haggard slaves chained to their past, linked to nothing.

And the world will move on
The shameless, boastful world of many proud men
sinful braggarts that breathe dust,
washing their hands in watery rust
There is no cleansing. There is no surgical procedure that will mend.
But you and I, you and I will meet at the end.
In the end we are slaves, carrying our chains and hanging our heads.

A watcher, watching a once hopeful now full of futility,
perished memory sliding through the slits in a soul
trickling down reminding, rewinding a mind that imploded
trusting trinkets and shiny rocks and forgetting that Death
should be held close. Life is the Enemy.
They hold on too much, hanging heads and singing hymns
heaping their trust in God when they can't trust themselves.

Where does it begin to topple? He muses majesty and
believes in power, so the mind grasps the esoteric,
puffed up like a pillow on manly deeds that profess
kingship. The king becomes the pawn, and the pawn falls
like the rest.
Falls the king.
Following a dream.
Founding a lie.

Jesse Jackson

For I said I would live my life for the Lord, and I know I skirt the lines sometimes, for righteous is narrow, and sin is wide, most times I'm playing outside the lines.

These days it ain't easy to see the truth, when it's shrouded in mystery. I can't say that I even know what it all means, or if it is supposed to mean a thing, but I call on a higher power.

I try to live like I should, and I know that I have made plenty of living like I shouldn't. This is a good time to reflect on what I do have. My fortune, and my failure, sides of the same coin, both revealed to bring a bit of strength to the soul. It's good to see it as it is and I am not going to be criticized or ridiculed for believing that I am somebody, like that man Jesse Jackson. Believing that I am something, someone, larger than my life. I serve a greater power, and that makes my ambition greater still.

Today was tiring, and now I just wanna kick back and read.
I think I wanna finish this book now...I believe I have a whole lot to talk about.

The Watcher, Deuce.

Watching the days like a maze, twisting at 90 degree angles, sharply changing my outlook and preparing me to prepare for adaptation, makes it hard to get used to being anything anyone wants, when I want someone to understand the real me. I watch it happen, standing on the outskirts of self, surveying the soul-landscape and I am unsure but thankful and proud and happy. I am the ghost of my true-self. I am the harbinger of unfortunate beauty. I am the height of the stars and the width of the cosmos.

I hold the essence of what it is to be: I am my own worst enemy.

Watching carefully, the charismatic political vampires perched, admiring the ignorance of the masses with mirth, my shadow falls on that which is cursed: a mind not aware of its worth.

Sell to me your backwashed gossip, stench-ridden lies propped on leaning tables like art. You would hang it on a wall, a diseased plaque looking like a mirror for the world's wasted youth, a haggard beast of a man with one tooth.

Watch this fall away, knowledge, the Lord says it will decay from minds first, so recall no riddles till laughter bursts, keep your hands in your own pocket and out of her purse.

I hold the essence of what can be known: your body is a shell and you are alone.

Watching what you will spin, your regrets, your mistakes that seethe again, reminding you that you should not be reminded and let the past be the end.

I am the Watcher.