Life and Jah are one in the same. Jah is the gift of existence. I am in some way eternal, I will never be duplicated. The singularity of every man and woman is Jah’s gift. What we struggle to make of it is our sole gift to Jah. The process of what that struggle becomes, in time, the Truth.
-The Late, Great, Bob Marley
Damn I love this quote.
I’ve always found myself standing apart from the idea of Religion. As useful as it is in controlling the masses, it’s always just felt like a sham to me. The idea of an omniscient power that is interested in the individual lives of 6 Billion people has always seemed ridiculously ridiculous for the most part.
Maybe it’s just me being a mere mortal, but i’ve never believed in control. I don’t believe anyone or anything has absolute control over anything.
Now as i’m writing this, i’m realizing that there isn’t a lot in religion (or the religion I know about at least) about the higher ups controlling us, but they do have some pretty awesome means of coercion. I mean, I met somebody that has broken thumbs to collect money, but eternally damning somebody »»»» breaking thumbs.
Mr.Marley however, gave me a perspective i’ve never thought of before. Of all the attempts to convert me to various religions, no one has ever had me think of my life as a gift to the Gods. They all spend lots of time gaming you up on how to not go to Hell and whatnot, but nobody speaking about religion has ever made me feel good about the life we’re living now. The problem with an omniscient, all powerful, all having being watching over us is that it leaves no room for us to give back. Living an honest life so that your creator can be proud of you sounds so much more appealing than spending your life trying to stay away from The Man’s vengeful side.
Alright well it’s 9AM and I should have been asleep 9 hours ago so i’ll end this here.
Bye Bye Joy Geen!
Time and time again i’ve been harassed and checked by police when COMPLETELY innocent. Anytime I forget to put on my white person voice when talking to 5 0 they look a lil deeper than necessary into my life. Even when I approach them to ask questions, they’re stupendous douchebags about everything.
Now beyond my typical hoodlumish rant, there is a much deeper reason for my hatred of the police.
Much scarier than the thought of being harassed by police, is that when I turn to them for help, they are never willing. My brother was killed at a party in front of 75 witnesses. Can’t do anything about it. My homie was robbed. ID’d the robber to his brother (who is a cop). Nope. Can’t do anything about it. In my lifetime, I started in Hunter’s Point, then moved to East Oakland, and finally escaped to San Leandro. Needless to say, My family and I have probably seen more criminals than most small jails. NEVER in my life have the police helped me or my family. They’ve never brought us suspects or property back. They’ve never been able to find our cars before they’re dumped. In fact, the last couple of times my family called the police for help, it ended up costing us hundreds of dollars and we STILL got no results. I figure they should have accidentally helped us once by now.
I’m truly convinced that the world (or the world that I live in at least) would be safer if I had my own bangers to protect me instead of police.
Unfortunately, I can’t be mad at police either. It’s human nature. We are all selfish assholes that abuse the gifts we’re given. Every single one of us. A cop isn’t a judgmental, powertripping, largely apathetic dickhead because he’s a cop. He’s been a judgmental, powertripping dickhead his entire life. He just has a badge now. As terrible and probable as that sounds, we as a people have yet to find an alternative solution.
Beyond that, a cop is immersed in a world of crime. 30% of his day is spent looking for the scourges of our society. As much as I despise their apathy, I understand.
Unfortunately, all this ranting is for naught. Because as much as I hate the way things are, I can’t think of an alternative means of policing the people. Maybe that’s just the way of the world. If our society so badly needs policing, maybe it’s asking too much for officers to be any better.
FREE MY NIGGA DIESEL THO.
(. )( .)
(. )( .)
DAMN YOU KRYPTONITE
- A fortune cookie I got yesterday.
I’ve been feeling an urge to express myself through some kind of writing lately. Just haven’t been able to figure out what I should be doing. Today, in a totally spontaneous, uncharacteristically proactive, yet strangely unfocused manner, I started writing. Just for the hell of it. Not sure if it’s a verse or a poem or spoken word or what, but that’s OK because I don’t think anyone is actually reading this anyways. I’ll try recording it later.
I’ve been stressed. I’ve been overly messed with, roasted impressively and ultimately bested in ways which I guess are just the weight of the world. The taxing that we take to partake in the making of our own fates for our own sake.
Truth is, most of my distress is regrets and unrest over mistakes that I made and games that I played. I laid the foundation for these smile smashing sensations and life changing frustrations.
Now i’m saying i’m believing the world is a direct achievement of our treatment of people we need and people we feed. That our madness is mirrored in the moments we fear and for every day we play the statue, a day as the pigeon is revealed.
The majority compare the effect to a dog of the fairer sex, but really I just feel blessed for a chance to reflect and face any pain I create so I can understand and relate and assess the weight of the way I weigh on the world.
What do I know more about than the things that i’ve seen and it seems I can see more with different eyes at each scene.
Why do I keep ending up “The other guy”? Errytime a woman wants me, she wanna keep me a secret for one reason or another.
Note to self: Try to be less embarrassing in public.