Questions I struggle with

What’s my purpose on earth?
Is it to achieve my dream?
Is it to make my folks happy?
To be the best I can be?
Or be what the world expects of me?
I have the answer,
I have no purpose,
No goals,
I have no vision of where I want to be,
I simply want to be happy,
They say money isn’t everything,
So why should I be ambitious,
As long as I do my best,
Is that not good enough?
But I was taught I have a purpose on earth,
Not just any purpose,
A purpose customized to my abilities,
Abilities I have to learn as I grow,
But that’s my purpose,
My God-given purpose,
That’s my purpose in life.

Religion taught me a lot as a child,
It taught me God loved all equally,
It taught me not to discriminate,
Not to judge,
For that was God’s responsibility,
To love my enemy,
And not just to love,
But to love as I loved myself,
So I did.
But at times,
I hated myself,
Loathed myself,
And reciprocated to my neighbor,
I was called all manner of appellations,
Rude, disturbed, spiteful,
But I only did what was taught,
How wrong could I have been?
But I learnt as I grew,
Learnt that a perfect picture,
Almost always gets the best reviews,
The only difference was that perfection varied,
And I was perfect at interpretation.

I dressed up to take her on a date,
Showed up with my regular moccasins,
She looked at them and sneered,
She said they looked ugly,
In the spirit of honesty,
I told her the truth
At least I could shop for others,
She couldn’t buy straight toes,
She hated me,
Called me an asshole,
Scum of the earth,
But if she believed in beauty,
Shouldn’t she believe in the opposite?
I did,
And still do,
Comfortable in my skin to know,
I’m perfect,
Just not your perfect,
And people love you for your imperfections,
To accentuate their perfections,
So I take pride,
Pride in lifting your self-esteem,
Because without my flaws,
You’d have nothing to make you stand out.

I was told to love my enemies,
And true to that I love my enemies,
But that changed when I was told to rebuke the devil,
Who is the devil?
Who is this Satan they speak of?
Is he a spirit?
A phenomenon?
A theory?
Or simply,
My neighbour.
Should I hate my neighbour?
Make him feel left out,
Simply because I don’t practice what he does?
Isn’t that contrary to what religion taught me?
To show love,
So that they may know what is means,
To live in love,
That’s why I live among sinners,
Like a sinner,
As a sinner,
For we all are sinners,
Only that some among us,
Feel regal,
Not to be wrapped with other sinners,
But I stand proudly a sinner,
One who casts a stone,
Knowing a bigger one may make its way back.
The most I can do as a human,
Is be myself and be happy in that.

The Future is in your hands

I am the delineation of pain,
I know how it feels to be at the bottom,
When people smile with you,
Drink and make merry,
Only to pull a Mary,
Surprise you with a kid you know nothing about,
Make no apologies,
Go on like nothing ever happened,
Make you a door knob,
Turn you at their convenience,
It’s part of life,
Part of a greater experience,
When you know you are born to suffer,
Every odd stacked against you,
But I’m programmed to succeed,
I know and live pain,
But failure is a foreign concept,
Something I know nothing of,
I always look back,
But just to see how far I’ve come,
Never to see how far I have to go,
I curve out my destiny.

I sometimes hate rich people,
What did they have to offer that I didn’t?
Or did they just stumble onto their wealth?
Did they spend sleepless nights?
Or their dreams were just more real?
I work myself off,
Burn the morning oil,
Simply because,
I’m working through the night,
Hoping that maybe one day,
I’ll say I’m wealthy,
Not stinking rich,
Just enough for a comfortable life,
Not to be so concerned about tomorrow,
Know there is comfort in today,
And joy in leaving yesterday,
Because I map out my future.

I’m not a role model,
I play different roles,
Some as a model,
But never simultaneously,
They encourage me to be like Pablo,
Or better yet,
Maya Angelou,
Follow in their footsteps,
We are taught to be different,
Be special,
Not a copy of another,
But why compare me with them?
Give me similar tests?
Judge me based on your experiences?
Push me aside because I’m not you?
I’m I not supposed to be different?
Be perfect in my own skin?
Because I am,
Comfortable that I am a mini god,
It’s only right,
I was created in the image of God, right?
I love myself for my mistakes,
What else would I love myself for?
Everyone loves me for my perfections,
I love them for their imperfections,
How else would I mirror my perfections?
Your future is in your hands.

I have a murderous mind,
Scratch that,

I have a Richard Trenton Chase mind,
Killed so many of my dreams,
Not randomly,
Creating a pattern,
A pattern that will hopefully lead me to success,
A success which only I understand,
They say one man’s meat is another man’s poison,
But at the end of the day,
It still is meat,
Not a vegetable or starch,
I therefore, see other people’s failures,
Pain and stress,
As a motivation to go on,
I’ll empathize,
But I won’t sit with you to console you,
Healing is intrinsic,
And I’m healing my past,
As I forge ahead.