The cool are remembered by their friends
The saints are remembered by God
The revolutionary are remembered by time.
The cool are remembered by their friends
The saints are remembered by God
The revolutionary are remembered by time.
“Some of the world’s smartest dummies” are being bullied by their own minds into trying to convince the rest of the world that they do not have a heart that breaks like the rest of us, or a little fear that teaches us survival skills, or even a genuine smile that goes along with that weird urge to be a little silly.
Whatever it is, They’re selling it and we’ve bought into it.
It’s been a while and I’ve not had tears to cry. It’s been a while and I’ve not had to tell a lie.
Because in fact, much has been alright, and since I stepped out of the night, the lighter thoughts have calmed me down.
And now I am as the sun at noon, belonging in my own right, but the loss of tears seems to have stolen the sparkle from my eyes.
I’ve written much less this season but not from a lack of creativity. It’s been good news of late, good news that I seem to have subconsciously decided to savour rather than deliver.
I used to get lost in my words but I’d rather get lost for words. Laughter and smiles has kept me pre-occupied… What a blessing.
I can’t seem to be of much use to old friends now that I am here…we used to cry all night long about things we didn’t realise we couldn’t change. I know for sure that I’ve not yet buried the hatchet, and the wine is proof that I’m still a little ratchet.
But I’ve got no tears for that now – and I haven’t for a while. I lost a good friend just hours after promising that we’d be here together, but these things happen, in the meantime I’ll just stay pretentious…borderline specious, that nothing goes before season, and our short time came with reason.
Things are going alright for the raggedy dog, love does certainly save the soul. Peace is given to those who keep their eyes on their own piece. Happiness is a little more complicated, but laughter is a free trial to get you closer.
It would be a shame to think that my talent only comes with misery, that she only works as a coping mechanism. I’ll just have to make time for her as I did when we first fell in love, when her kisses still filled my belly with butterflies and we held hands as I showed her to the applause of the world, and I was that much closer to becoming a man. I could not stay away from her doorstep, inflamed with infatuation at the sight of her ease to make me giggle inside… And now that she’s a permanent resident under the cages of my ribs, let me not neglect her while I still have no tears to cry.
The Spiritual world really interests me. The Bible says that the Holy spirit is our advocate…
The English dictionary defines this as:
1) A person who publicly supports or recommends…
2) A person who puts a case on someone else’s behalf.
In South African law, an Advocate is a “specialist” lawyer
As a law student I am driven to this definition. Because legal representation in court requires expert knowledge. The kind of knowledge that we as normal citizens would lack, meaning the Advocate will see things that we cannot see. He will know precedent and therefore know what kind of defences are sufficient and which are not.
In other words, when the court of law seems to be a whole different world, the advocate is a native creature of that land and he speaks our case in the language that we might not completely understand. (Watch the movie Arrival, it’s kinda cool).
John the Baptist was in the wilderness preparing the was for the Messiah. This is recorded as something that happened in the physical, but I assume it also had a spiritual significance and served as a warning to the evil spirits that their rule on earth was coming to an end.
Adam and Eve sinned, but they were warned before hand that should they eat from that tree, they would surely die. However, they were not promised to die at a later time… They were to die on the spot.
But they went on to be banished and had two sons. Two very dramatic sons indeed. One killed the other and then went to create one of the most controversial plots in the Bible by somehow finding a wife… Even though the average reader will quickly remmeber that there was only four people recorded to have been in existence at the time…
Lol but that’s not the point…
Jesus met a man named Nicodemus. He told him that in order for one to enter God’s kingdom, he would have to be born of water and the spirit.
The water part is tricky, and very controversial… And like many other parts of the Bible, has been used by many people to achieve their own agendas.
1)The easiest water to think one could be “born” from seems to be baptism
2)The other water that one could be born from is the literal fluids of the womb – suggesting that that one must be human and not merely a spirit, in order to be saved.
3)And the other water could maybe be that which we see in genesis 1:6… The waters of the heavens
But I don’t know, and that’s not the focus in my thoughts right now…
The focus is the birth of the spirit. I think the rebirth of the spirit, which allows one to claim to be “born again”, shows us the kind of death that God warned Adam and Eve about. They did not die physically right away, but immediately their spirits did die… Which is why we now have to be born again because human flesh ain’t allowed in heaven you see…
Anyway, once you do accept Jesus as your Lord and savior and you get the advocacy of the holy spirit, I think it becomes quite useful when people are talking a lot of smack about you, cursing your name and wishing evil upon you.
As Eastern philosophies speak about the concept of Karma… You do bad, you deserve that back, but Jesus is so kind that he spends day and night fighting against the Karma payments that you are due… After all, he is the forgive and forget guy that we love.
The fascination of the spiritual world also comes from the power that our words have on our reality. I cannot stress enough how much I try not to entertain any bad thoughts regarding my safety when I am walking home from campus late after midnight… I believe that when I start expecting something, it will happen sooner or later.
I remember a couple of years ago, I wasn’t so comfortable with my driving and we had gone out with my cousins. I didn’t have a licence and was afraid of getting stopped by the traffic cops. Ironically, we were also listening to a song by a hip hop artist around our age who confessed to not having insurance just in case he crashed…
And guess what? I crashed. No worries, nothing major, just a bumper scratch in a parking lot – which becomes a lot worse when you’re a law student driving without a license. (fit and proper?)
And generally in everyday stuff, including my studies and mental health, I just try to focus on the desired result and that seems to work. I don’t even have to say it, I just have to believe it as much as I can.
Even Jesus spilled the beans that even an unbeliever can get their way as long as they have faith. That one gentile woman asked him to heal her daughter, he asked her why he should give the children’s food to dogs, and she showed faith and said, “even the dogs can eat the crums that fall from the table”… Jesus was pleased and the daughter was healed…
And I one day hope I will truly understand everything that I just wrote about, and hope to see that glorious kingdom of God… And also, maybe use this “believe it” thing to make some better investments and see some dividends in my bank account.
A major difference between western philosophy and eastern philosophy today is found in practice.
We hear of meditations, yoga, and all sorts of things that people near us do to bring themselves closer to oneness with the universe. Karma, energy and peace are not just words, but they are practices that people in the western world today try to live by… Even if they do it wrong… At least they try.
And as for western philosophy, well I’m afraid that is mostly restricted to the text books. Western philosophy today seems to have been limited to the person who attempts to prove his wisdom by how much he can read and how well he can regurgitate the clever words, mind-blowing questions and how many old Greek dudes’ names he can pronounce.
However, this philosophy was not always like this. This philosophy holds an important role in the foundations of our society today.
But I remember one time in high school when I was sitting in class and the teacher had gone out for some time. I was doodling in my book, daydreaming about one of the girls in my class.
I then got the idea that I should write her a love letter. But after a short thought, I decided that I was in no mood for that kind of embarrassment, so I decided that I would just try to get her attention, while also being able to disguise my intentions… And to cherry the top, I could also entertain some of my classmates.
So I began quickly writing out little “HELLO” letters on some paper and I distributed it to all the girls in my class.
I think everybody had a little laugh.
When the teacher did come back, the letters quickly found their way to her attention and when they did, I sat quietly at my seat in the middle of the class with a little smirk on my face.
I was genuinely expecting her to see the funny side of it all. But she didn’t. I don’t know if it was related to whatever she had been doing outside the classroom, but she did not give off any positive vibes…
Instead, she quickly asked the class if I had written anything else on the letters. I immediately presumed she thought I had written something distasteful in some of them… But I didn’t. I just wanted everyone to be happy. Making them happy made me happy…
But here I was, my intentions being turned on their head… and I have to admit that on that day my heart fell to the tip of my toes.
I was just trying to be nice.
But now I realise that maybe even just trying to be nice could soon be something to be only experienced in the textbooks, tested in a five mark question… and the theory of being nice could one day be reduced to the wisdom of a sociology 101 undergrad, to be shared over a turkey during Thanksgiving.
But I was just trying to be nice.
Cry my son, my son cry. Your voice a sound of life, cry. Let your tears run down your face and cry, let your smooth brand new skin get a wash from nature and birth, just cry. I’ll hear you and hold you, just cry my little man, your fears are true but I’ll hold you and you will get through, just cry.
Cry, my little young soldier just cry, let me hear your wisdom and cry. I’ll hold you and feed your cry. When you get older like daddy just cry, when there’s no one around you and life begins to pound you, just cry, until one day your face will beard and you’ve conquered all that you feared, just cry.
Cry, young baby your life is a big maybe so cry. When it hurts, we’ll sooth you, when you’re cold we’ll clothe you, just cry. Through pain, in joy, you cry. We’ll guide you and hide you but never forsake you, just cry. When truth becomes mystery and love brings misery, just cry.
Cry, my baby – my hero just cry. There’s no need to run when you cry. One day you’ll be like daddy, going out to find something for our dinner table, so cry. When I’m here until I’m gone just cry. Your breathe brings me victory and pride, so cry, when the weight of kings weighs heavy on your shoulder just cry.
Mother and Father
Cry… our baby, our joy, just cry we’re always besides you so cry. Until your tears run dry, and you know that it didn’t hurt to try – cry. And when it works out, we’ll cry, for soon the sound of your voice in our home will run dry. And we will cry, knowing that soon will be your turn to learn the joys of a baby’s cry.
I was listening to an Italian Opera and I am in no way familiar with Italian, but this little story is what I heard the Primo Uomo (Father), and the Prima Donna (Mother) singing. The Coro was the uncles. I loved it.
The picture is from Love Incarnate(Instagram), taken after a fire left many without homes in a South African informal settlement. I think those kids deserve a little cry.
The voice of the old wise man within me came up and told me that the restless young man was causing havoc within me.
I told him I know.
He said they’re asking questions of faith, losing patience and wait, their hatred seems to be gaining weight.
They don’t believe in my direction, they no longer feel my protection.
I told him, you’re the prophet within. Go back to them and show them some signs, like the meaning behind my recent designs.
I’m growing older during a time when not even global warming can stop me from getting colder. Tell them that I bear their pain on my shoulder, with every breath of life in this body now in my hands, for it seems motivation won’t come from anywhere else but me.
So they’re bound to feel a little less protected, the naked truth is what I’m searching for, but the naked truth is that maturity comes only after the wounds are allowed to heal.
And I’m keeping it real. Go back in there and warn of the many evils that await them outside. I’m battling contradictions while facing up to addiction, I hope one day they will see that the young man I am was truly the old wise man within.
For my thoughts, I’m preparing a paradise of stillness and peace, for this is no story of the great Hercules of Greece. This is the true tale of a corrupted soul trying to escape the smoky mirrors of a corrupted world.
Go back to them and be crucified by my fear of criticism and fear of optimism in the land of dread. Wise old me, be the sacrifice until the day when you will one day sit victorious – celebrating my refusal to succumb to the urges of drunkenness just make me numb, having to do more than just play it a little dumb to blend into the twenty first century… For I refuse to be woven into a waivering of my right to stand alone when I wasn’t invited along… to see the light through the tunnel of life in spite of the overshadowing darkness of unfulfillment bargaining a cheaper end of my existence.
Tell the restless young man within, that his needs will be catered for in due time. But there’s a lot of learning awaiting me ahead – so let all that I know prepare to weaken the the shackles which protect them, open the gates and prepare for battle…
Because if it’s going to be a matter of natural selection, then only the fittest shall survive, and that’s a policy I’ll implement first from within.
There are walls in my room and stones outside, there are trees and flowers that bloom. There are friends I’ve never met and an end I’m running to. There’s joy sometimes and nothing mostly at noon.
At night I dream, and in grief I scream. Pain becomes a companion and I’m never truly alone. I long for freedom, and slavery asks my name. The department knows my stats and the prison awaits a murderer.
For me there’s life, but so too for you. In me there is light and so too there’s blood. I bleed and plead for meaning behind the bush, but what’s a little now with forever insight?
I wish I knew how to make you feel love, but every time I try I only prove the existence of the black hole in my heart. It longs for power and would probably devour any aspirations of a simpleton dreaming to dream big.
Tonight I’ll read, I’ll learn something new. Eventually I’ll forget, but still I’ll lay claim to everything else but blame. I long to feel shame, but pride tells me that’s lame, because I’ve got an ego to protect and echo to keep intact.
Sorry is for the weak, and sorrow for tomorrow. If I were to unvail the true protest of my spirit, my own existence would be suspect. I search the net for something that will pay. But one day I hope that all our talents will have a price, and that price will bring a value and eventually we will all know that a soul or two we’ve sold, while in it’s place we’ve sowed enough seed to satisfy our evil need.
I assume that’s how it was, when the Earth saw the Heavens. When the cavemen saw the monkey. When the Church saw the heathen. When Da Vinci saw the middle age. When the dollar saw the barter. When democracy saw the monarch. When the car saw the donkey. When industry saw agriculture. When depression saw war, and then Cold war saw Berlin. And now, as technology sees manual labour, I’m beginning to feel like there’s hope beyond this hole.
I’m going to distinguish myself from reality, until my mind does the same with my foot. Then bacteria will flee from virus, and we will all feel a little different. Because until we accept each other’s roles, the world will always be in transition, and eventually eternity will be divided from never…
and it will be good for whatever good is worth.
After an intense game of football, walking home in itself was inevitably a dread, but I had to detour towards the supermarket to grab a coke and pie for lunch.
Man, I can’t stress enough how hard it was limping my way through the street, in the unforgiving heat with a cry for rest bursting through my veins from the feet.
But there would be no rest, for that would spell defeat. I was relying on momentum to keep my moving as long as I kept moving. An uphill climb here and passing so many passer-bys in my sweaty gear – I eventually put my head down trying not to confront the knowledge of the distance that lay in front.
But eventually I gained a close range sight of home – much to my delight, and I could already see myself resting, with my head down and my feet bare and stretched up on a chair.
But that was not the end of it. Lately I’ve been getting confirmation that I never complete anything without a moral to the story. And this time, I just had to keep on going. And this particular one being that no matter how painful or how long it takes, the important part of any journey is that you keep on going.
My cousin posted a status, I wonder where the quote comes from, it says: “The Dream is free for everyone, but the hustle is sold separately.”
That’s powerful! I’ve been trying to teach myself to keep my hands away and my mind clear from the things that I cannot change. Things such as circumstance. The heat, tiredness, distance and time are circumstance. Putting one foot in front of the other, however, is not.
Even better if you have an idea of the destination, try not to count the steps and you might just see yourself there. But the most important thing is to keep moving. If you are like me, and your fear of defeat out-weighs your urge for victory, you also qualify for this remedy.
Keep on moving through the pain, through the plains and the vallies – just keep moving, so long as it gets you away from the place you hate. And when you’re out of there, you can keep moving just to get as far away as possible.