Find your self SUCKAH.

Normally, a ridiculous amount of things are running through my head on a regular day, but as of late I've been thinking more than I really need to(if you know me well, you know my mind is a nomad). Unnecessary thoughts about the future, about the past, about insignificant stressors. All of these unnecessary thoughts, some how have led me back to a very significant yet very basic reoccurring theme... the only thing that we have is our selves and God. Everything here is so temporary, over the past couple days I was looking at old writings I did. Here’s one I wrote last year about my father and death in general:


"So as I sit here in class I'm thinking about my fathers passing just 3 years ago; I'm not dwelling on the death I'm thinking about how much we really take our parents for granted. Time and time again I hear people say "Why is my mom/dad such a ________", I'm guilty of it my self. After going through this experience and having to deal with this change every day whether I wanted to or not made me realize what makes the relationship of a father and son so different. When my father was alive I never quite understood why he went about as in why he was so strict or why we were so distant. But after analyzing his actions over and over again I have been able to get a better understanding of what type of person he was and in turn what he wanted me to become. As slick as we think we are or as much as we think "I'll never be like my dad/mom" we end up turning into them anyway... i gotta take a quiz now ill finish this later

In the end, the point is to enjoy your parents while you have the chance they are your culture and everything you will or wont become. It's only when you see through their eyes that you can truly know yourself."

I still feel this remains true, however still it is incomplete; the most important thing is to look for ways to grow, it becomes more and more evident everywhere I look. In the poem "Piece of a man" by Amir Sulaiman, he describes a homeless drunk who comes up to Amir on the street and drops some knowledge on him to say the least...

I see a piece of a man,
Blinking slowly,
Talking quickly,
He's alone and lonely.
His eyes hit me and I'm thinking "Does he know me?"
He's past hips,
But something told me,
To listen closely,
I stopped in my tracks as he approached me,
He smelt mostly of cheap scotch,
He had on a gold watch that didn't tick,
I'm thinking "how ridiculous" but he moved even more closely.
He reached in his coat and unfolds these sheets of loose leaf of poems he hadn't finished composing,
As his mouth was open, his eyes were closing and he said in a soft raspy voice:

The reality is, you love fantasy
I prefer the reality of confusion,
To the seduction of illusion,
So I understand that we lie shortly,
We are tiny,
And our time is near.
So what else is there except to be sincere?
My peers appeared to be dead or
Not yet born or,
Perhaps they have not yet been loved by the norm,
And adored by the norm,
And beloved by the norm,
Burned and scorned by the norm.
People are funny, fickle and dying,
Our time is near,
So what else is there except to be sincere?
In a child's first year its in search of its 5th year,
In its child's 10th' year its in search of its 16th year,
In its 5th its year its in search of its 25th year,
And when its dead, its in search of its life.
So why should it not be in search of now?
You don't even have to search for now,
Now is here.
Has now used and abused you?
Maybe now loves you and doesn't want to lose you.
What if something accused you of not being good enough when it just met you?
You hardly know now.
The same way you desire then, now;
You will desire now, then.
So it seems you are searching for what is present.

When he was finished he gently fold the poem in half.
Stuck it in his other dirty palm and asked,
For a couple dollars.
I forked over the cash.
He turned his head, turned his collar as we passed
and returned to a spot a half block up the ave'.
We live in strange days,
you'll find the truth out in many strange ways,
Just keep your soul close, cope and maintain.
Some of us deranged, are really, the best at staying sane...

-Amir Sulaiman


I love the portrait Amir illustrates of the man on the street, really showing you that you may find wisdom at any place that you choose to. Another way that I looked at this poem was inserting a very simple line...

I see a piece of a man,
Blinking slowly,
Talking quickly,
He's alone and lonely.
His eyes hit me and I'm thinking, "Does He know me?"
But rather, do I know Him?

The point of this is that if you know Him (God) then you will inherently find your self. This brings me to my conclusion... I need to find Him.