What is life? I have asked myself this question more times than I can remember. I wrestled with it last spring and I thought the answer was agreed upon by the summer. The trees have scattered their leaves travelling far from the roots of which they came, following the cold breeze past distant lands and seas. On my face I feel the elements of winter and now in my heart the question decides to renter.
In all honesty I believe the answer awaits me upon my death, they say you reflect over your life as you take your last breath. Whether what they say is true or false I will know with my final pulse. Until then life is and nothing more than a stringent test, judged on the use of that which I am blessed. Time, health, wealth and intelligence so until I am withered by age, every day of my life will be a white blank page.
I am from a place where the human has long forgotten that he was the chosen. Living just to consume and always in expectancy for anything and everything frozen. Nostalgic hunger that shakes the liver, awaiting vanity to come quick and deliver. Addicted to that daily dose of constructed reality, building a delusional and corrosive society. And here I am floating in the mirror asking myself why I am always standing and gazing at this familiar sinner.
The cerebral cortex was given to very man and woman for a reason, yet our perceptions and thoughts have been rendered dormant. We shy away or neglect responsibility as if it was a prescription. These days looking at the world gives me much to say, sometimes I feel like I alone carry the memories of those who have unjustly past away. To explain further I asked a brother a question saying what if it was your mother who was sustenance for the vulture even before her corpse begins to decay.
Would you stand before me today with that same line of thought, saying with such resolve that only an idiot would give Somalia time and support. I had to stop and wait for that familiar feeling of ignition. It’s this revolutionist mentality that reminds me those in a bad place in life are never beneath me. The thing about pain is it flows like an ocean current, just because it hasn’t drifted to your shores you think of it as stagnant.
Cultured hypocrisy has but one major repugnant, to think of yourself worthy by hurting the innocent. Theories played into strategies to drive the naive to their knees, promising peace while surely spreading and maintaining the disease. From here on end that has to change because we are that process of transition. Every single one of us has a part to play in life’s intricate equation. In all honesty the hardest part of it all is to determine your position.
Waking up just to retreat to slumber is monotonous; tediously watch the hour glass for the inevitable grave. Working for nothing of value in the expiring plains of today will only lead to the dismay of wondering why. I sincerely believe that my salvation depends on eternity and the pavements of good that I lay.
Come to think of it all at the end of the day I am human, genetically disposed to misdeed. For every sin I can wash away with action of a better manner and whole hearted intentions of the selfless kind. We all transgress if not upon one another then it is upon our lord and creator. My grandmother always says never ever stop making a prayer because it opens the doors for heaven to fill your world with the most amazing wonder.
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