Roots

We are all looking to buy the dream home; save and make the investment. ‘Secure your future’, they say, and in some way, that would be the definition of success. Lock eyes on the goal; it’s just another few decades to materialise before you have the right to claim a piece of the earth. That said, if nothing else falls through, at least you have a home, or in my view ‘a ghost of a house to bank on’.

If I had to wear the shoes of a critic, I would say my folks lost many a prized home. Surrendered or turned the other way when the opportunity came knocking.

But what never fails to amaze me is that they relentlessly built a home within us. Hard to imagine, in this day and age, my parents went by having five kids to keep their home brimming with laughter and chaos throughout the day; three boys that go by the names of Mark Quentin, Leslie Anthony, Nelson George and two girls, Roselinda Clementina and Georgina.

As time goes by, we move forward together in our own separate directions.
Like branches, we spread out in pursuit of out our path yet remain rooted wherever we may go.

A dynamic family of personalities, each morphing into their unique identities of the future. And despite the views in the opinion that comes with the inescapable age gap (thirteen years difference between Quentin and myself, eight with Lezz, seven with Nelson and two with Rosy) we are nothing but a band of siblings that play the ‘harmony of home’ in the same way it was taught to us.

This is my immediate family. An entity of love and belonging. Nothing different from the rest but a simple reminder to close your eyes with arms wide open and fall back with blind fate into never yielding hands.

Through a hail of difficult situations, they emerge to form an unceasing force field to weather the storm as one.

“OHANA means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten”. –Lilo & Stitch

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Born To Phase Away

Its sealed with a breath, destined truth unspoken.

Weak within its flesh, soiled to its eternity.

Whoever thought memories could be hardened?

Whoever fought death as an opponent?

A touch to depart as sorrows banish itself in time.

We were born to die, a moment to the holy sigh

As we move forward together in our separate lines,

To each his own, the grim awaits to mark his reaper  on their slate.

Feel, Understand, Respect

I believe the world is made up of faggots!

Despite your rejection or consent to the given statement, my belief and opinion are entitled to you and those that surround you. It is not a question of whether or not my statement is accurate. The words come from me, therefore in all self-delusion, it ought to conform itself in the light of its appearance; to be the truth in the world I see.

However, does my testament deter one’s life (thoughts) or is it sheer tomfoolery?

At the least, my opinion is just passing air, unseen, unnoticed! Therefore to you, I put forward this question, ridiculing and demeaning those who have different interest, traits, caste or appearance make you feel special?

Because if it does, I hope the walls of your narrow mindedness seal you in. Your bitter disregard is ineffective just like my earlier statement and I hope those that add perspective and a new light to this world, tread upon the so-called “ideals” you uphold with false pride.

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Homophobes, Racist, Sexist and all those vermin’s that cripple the world from progressing, WAKE UP! Because with or without you, the world continues to march forward in the light of tomorrow.

You will be left behind, along with you misplaced self-righteousness to devour what’s left of your mind!