03:00 24March
I feel it the more excruciating whenever your voice goes further away from me into the distant nowhere. Today I almost lost my marbles too contemplative about what is holding me together as an entire entity called ‘person’. In this introspection I found myself gazing at you for a model. I search the inborn sanity and acceptance of our becoming. I am body parts knit together and a face nobody else has. I am an image. I was given an identity by those who brought me about. They gave me a name. This was done to distinguish me from the others. They too have names, for the same reasons I suppose. It seems I was found too unique of a person to not not have a name. The design behind everything is telling. It is a science I seem to be on the pursuit of time to pursue. The top layer of this surface is deeper than I thought…I have stumbled upon something. Is this the origins of ‘awe’? Have others realized this? I am further indifferent. This is a cup I seem to be serving myself. This stream of consciousness has me quoting myself. I should be the first reader of all things I author. I feel I am in the wrong for highly regarding the willingness of another soul in understanding a narrative I spend little to no time explaining. I expect too much. How naïve of me to believe acceptance will be achieved through silence or general contempt for a faux interpretation. I rid myself of the pressure…this is a beginning I myself am grappling with.
20:00 27March
The supernatural will always be controversial. It is personal. It is sacred. It is politically incorrect. The authoritative experiences of the initiate aren’t consumer friendly. They are inconsistent with fathomable narratives. The supernatural preexists today. Its abnormal…we cannot leave much to mystery so there has to be an explanation for all we experience. We want to control. If we cannot control then we discard. The supernatural has antagonized us much. It isn’t easy incorporating what is still widely misunderstood. It is the audacity of the supernatural which offends most. How it still insists on concerning itself with us even in our ignorance. We are prey to the supernatural if we’re still uncertain about our whereabouts…our origins…where we spring from. The supernatural needs no invitation in our lives. We are allies with the esoteric world if we understand the languages employed and laws governing it. The supernatural is confrontational, almost like we are actually supposed to be in constant synchronization between two alternate worlds and still remain harmonious human beings. Here is where the mother of all my conflict makes herself known: our understanding is hindered by conceptual challenges. This will always be the root of all I try to build into myself. I found myself taking another perspective - not a second or third one, I’ve really lost count. It is because of the supernatural that I will forever be questioning…myself…my world(s)…and it is because of the supernatural that I have seen conclusions aren’t goals…but means in themselves. I conclude things to be inconclusive. The supernatural was never meant to be a transcendent destination…perhaps if you speak from the dead. The supernatural though, with us all the time, a point of departure is a better reception as we conceptualize it. We don’t want to be bothered with what calls for a complete overhaul and a series of “why?” questions into our lives. I know a place, where the supernatural is not offensive, where it’s actually quite normal. A place not far, just really a ‘concept throw’ away. You will do well to not label the infinite and unfathomable using terms finite and contentious. You will do well to keep your mind open lest your brains fall out. You will do well to realize perhaps your life is just a parable to be told in ages after you leave us. You will do well to consider how the concern was always about the supernatural grappling with what belongs to it… I do well to wrestle back with my Origin.
18:00 April04
Let me tell you about my dad
Lately I have been speaking of you much.
I bring to memory my origins and you are all I reference mostly.
Out of the abundance of my heart I talk of you with much joy and tears. I guess it is expedient…as I transition out of your nest; I was at fault for thinking that this meant not being around to keep hearing from you. It is naïve of me… to think I can undo in a year what you have spent 22 years doing to me. My whole make up is a product of all you have done. The decisions I’ve taken so far, my approach to conflicts, I am fully cognitive of the fact that my rebellion is your engineering as well.
You may not have been conscious of certain things at the time…I am allowed to ponder about such because I speak from the privilege of the present which allows me to reflect back. I speak because I am inspired to…heavily…I am to pay homage to you. This is my narrative of you….no better or truer narrative can and will be written. As you have been the only constant in my plight from birth till now, so do I deem myself the best to speak about, of and on behalf of you. I am your son. In your image, I am. Brothers and sisters I may have but none of them have caught your heart and mind like I have. I am the faithful victim of your love. I am confused because you never made things simple. I now understand…nothing about this life is simple. I will speak out of anger and gratitude. Angry because I wish things were different, but this is human of me. Gratitude because it seems given the same circumstances I would have raised me the same. I justify you today…I couldn’t comprehend the God complex working through you. Your hand has always been hard but your love has always been where all your dealings come from. Be vindicated. You spoke of experience being your teacher and how I am subservient to you because of that. You’ve always asked me to look unto you because no better father exists out there. You have always had our privilege checked. I recall the rage I would have…much indignant for your insistence in keeping me awake to the harsh realities of life. I would be ‘indignant’…it must not have been easy for you…you told me of how stubborn I am. “Many out there don’t have fathers” you would say, ”..and if they do have fathers I can tell you they aren’t like I am in the attention I give”. Only now do i realize you are referring to people who I now call my future best men and pall bearers. I am truly all too fathered.
May God grant me strength to carry the burden you place upon me. How you expect the world from me and still want to share with me your hell. You are a difficult person You are a hard person I am compelled to do things my way just as you have done so all your life. I am persuaded to not repeat your mistakes….how you are slowly becoming to me the same people who have left you for destitute. I need to stand on someone though, your shoulders are the broadest and your soul bleeds the most- who can bind up your wounds?
You are an exception aren’t you? and if I am made in your image then shouldn’t I be the same?
How naïve of me to believe I can narrate and jot down my life and the experiential knowledge that still comes with it. I will help keep you alive, its my purpose as a son. To heal a broken family before I die again in mine.
