you must love me

As I am caught in the mix of the lights and the glits, imprisoned by the freedoms that are based on a myth, I have been taught to run after a dream that does not exist. Like the rose that grew from concrete as explained by Mr Shakur, you must celebrate my will know and my tenacity to reach the sun. My never ending urge to explain my convictions and my never ending need to justify my philosophy. some people call it weird while others call it stupid, I prefer to call it my tragedy or my justifiable destruction.

You may not like the man I am or the man i will become, but you must always respect and recognize the fact that i still became a man. You may not like the path that i walk or the direction that i take, but at least i walk a path chosen on my own and take a direction that i feel is right ... A path whose end holds my redemption, and whose cost is the beautiful solitude. With my soul trapped in this liberated mindset, I have traded my last breath for tears and all my blood for absolutely nothing ... Yet i still breath and i miraculously still bleed, you must love me because I miraculously still be.

Dont hate me because you dont like what what i am doing with my life today, hate me when i change what i am doing because i am scared of what you are going to say. S0 until i am visibly shaken or terrified by your lame words, you have absolutely no choice but to love me.

In a timeless space: Reflections of a suicidal veteran

A couple of seconds to the end and it was apparently clear: His demons had gained tactical advantage and he was never going to make it out of there alive. All alone in his room, disillusioned and defeated, he stares hard at that glock as he drifts into a brief mental paradise, a place of pure peace and a space of no time. With a slight grin and a whole lot of tears, he is quite shocked at how the history of glory and triumph that trails him never prepared him for what ultimately turned out to be the final battle.

With the scars from battles fought, certificates from universities gone and awards from tournaments won, he had gained the respect and admiration of all apart from one ... the one whose respect can only be earned through a careful process of solemn reflection and unilateral humility ... The one who could not care less about your physical achievements ... The one whom he conveniently choose to ignore ... Blinded by the false system which glorifies nothings, he ascended to a rarefied atmosphere of "perfection" and "greatness".

Staring hard at that glock he can finally see: the falsehood, the failure and the illusion of a life well lived. A sad case of misplaced priorities and displaced aspirations. "i was once great ... or at least they thought i was" ... his last thoughts as a loud bang gives the final victory to his demons.