Some 20 Years Ago…
I am the product of a love so great; it brought Europe and Africa together. Raised speaking the language of my ex-colonizers, as a baby I was held in my mother’s arms. My ancestors hail from a raped continent, where the lives of individuals are not valued, and manipulated to fuel the engine of profit. An accumulation of semi-sovereign nations in which the truth is concealed by falsified arguments and the polarization of wealth is overshadowed by a continuous debt imposed upon our people; revealing that none of us can truly exist on only two dollars a day…
At the age of mobility – migrated to the land of opportunity in hopes of a better life. My brothers understood what it meant to have an empty fridge. Too many spoke of it, but few had lived it. Too many of us became experts in bearing arms, but only brought tears in the eyes of our mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. Surviving a war in two separate worlds, easy money was the devil that trapped us in a game of mental monopoly. Became a victim of a life that didn’t satisfy me; became what I didn’t want to become. The world was cold and filled with hatred and suffering. Unexpectedly, my dreams diffused in a dense cloud of smoke at a time when, no one would offer me an ear to listen to the tragic tales. I wasn’t the worst, nor was I the best. Trusted men and they lied; our eyes witnessed events that were undeniably forbidden. Suffered multiple wounds while lying on my pedestal of death, but as ammunition flew I was submerged in a cloud of bullet. I could have cried all my tears, knowing that they will never come back – I now see that life is just as much saying goodbye, as it is saying hello.
Our enemies multiplied, until we could not count them anymore. I was nothing more than a statistic, graphing my name on the walls of forgotten ghettos. A troublesome reflection of selling people their death in a bag; amidst a riotous profusion of narcotics usage, a frail child offered me stimulants wrapped in aluminum. I wanted to help, but I was frozen, knowing that monetary handouts cause more harm than good. The general good-will of passersby will never relieve the streets. Eliminated the malicious empire, left the negativity behind, and now the bandana defines a different purpose.
Fraudulent Love
The most perfect drug in the world seems to be the signal that travels through our antennas and into our living rooms. I’m not sure when it became fashionable to talk nonsense in this society, but when publicity comes in the form of corporate sponsorship we become tragically attached to a world of superficialities driven by profit. We can never be good enough, attractive enough, rich enough, dramatic enough, special enough; ;ike an army of carbon copies, too many souls are absorbed into emulating the pictures that appear on their television screens. Now the media wonders why frustrated youth roam the streets, but they don’t see that they are the products of oppressive agenda. They talk about delinquency, I talk about inequality. When the issue was addressed many politicians hid behind a wall of logical responses, but what I saw wasn’t logical. These were the same group of ignorants that plague developing nations with political monsters. In their cities, ghettos are falling under the assault of drugs and alcohol. To them, love means accumulating wealth and money at the expense of our self-destruction. Then, they’ll continue to lie in our textbooks, proving that ignorance has no boundaries.
Actresses, or, emotional hypocrites in disguise, want to know love but they don’t love themselves. To compensate, they spend hours in front of mirrors painting a tragic reflection of their insecurities. They talk about change but they don’t see the change in themselves. They therefore transform themselves into different people every time you encounter them. Sometimes the ugliest people come wrapped in the prettiest little packages. Their violence of envious manipulation hides behind the masks, clothes, and make-up of these well-rehearsed performers. Having fallen in love with such a performer, I became the victim of an illusion – a tainted love that consumed the depth of my soul. In her selfishness, it bothered her to see me smile and through her every word she inflicted pain. Life soon became an ultimatum between her and my loved ones; I refused to partake. The truth became evident when the actress disappeared in my time of reflection; it’s hurt people that hurt people. Now we understand that there’s a big difference between loving a person, and loving what a person can offer to you.
Only forgiveness heals, ends the game of guilt, and releases me from the past. Love offers the freedom from fear, but for me and many others, it has been conjugated in the past tense. Love is frozen at our lips, incapable of being articulated, insomuch as the word itself seems to have disappeared from our vocabulary.
A New Direction
I had to disappear from the public eye, only to return and translate bitterness into hope. This is why I inscribe these words as a lesson, for those willing to listen, because one who forgets the past is condemned to repeat it. This is only the beginning – realization results in action, telling myself I will not be afraid to love someday. I learned that truth is not determined by the volume of one’s voice, so I lay quiet knowing that these domestic drawbacks could never fade my global vision. If it was to be done again I would have been much wiser, I would have held my mother, I would have admitted my weaknesses and focused on my strengths. We want comfort even though it comes at a high price, we make the effort, but more often than not we are not strong enough. If it weren’t for my brothers and sisters, more than half this life would have been spent, incarcerated. I had to cleanse my body of alcoholic poisons; the smoke I use to inhale is now exhaled for good. I escaped descent, cultivated friendships, celebrated cultures, and united broad sections of people; learning to choose friends wisely, and always stay close to the best of them. The best friendships find comfort in silence. Therefore, I’m eternally grateful for your silence in times of reflection, and your words in times of reconstruction.
Now 21 years later, I give my dedication to those with whom I shared these moments. Reminiscing upon the days when I use to live do or die, but now I die to live. Alert and aware that there is a day I am continuously ignoring, that one day, I will pass away…Before death comes for me, to all my friends and lost friends, I would like to say that I love you. To you, I offer my sincerest wishes so that you may find the opportunity of seeing something beautiful every day, so that your love stories never have endings…Know that to the world, you may be one person; but to one person, you may be the world. Don’t frown, because you never know who’s falling in love with your smile. Trust people wisely and they will be true to you; treat them greatly and they will show themselves great. Try focusing not on the world’s tragedies but on the world’s hope. Remember that you are a person, not a stereotype. Remember who you live for, and who you would die for. You can never please everyone, but through your deeds, those you touch will hold you dear to their hearts indefinitely…
There are times when it is wise to become invisible. Like the period after sundown when the light has dissipated and the activity left over from the light of day continues to radiate translucently. When the shadow of foolishness reigns, it is best that any vibrancy remain hidden, that thoughts and efforts remain quiet and self-contained, protected from harmful external influences.