For years my tears carried screams muffled by showered water, “I am not my father. I am not him.” I hated my given for years, not changing till i met poetry, spoken words from a friend familiar. Even still, i refuse to use my sur; i see little equity in it, this name more reminder of ancestral tarnish and pain, fatherly shadows, nothing to build upon. I’ve embraced a duality of innumerable voices bouncing around:… Read more of: stream of consciousness #0013: all i do
People ask questions but rarely seek answers. There’s a timidity when it comes to knowledge. Fear not, it won’t bite. Seeking own knowledge—the path of autodidacticism—will thaw the frozen ascetic within, inflamming a mental tazmanian devil, ready to devour tomes and submerge itself in the wells of experiences. Moving nomadically, each new desire allowed to grow to adolescence, forming relationship after relationship, long-lasting, of course, but some ephemeral, is both the good and bad. Ask… Read more of: Autodidacticism, hello friend.