Slavery? In Libya? Only?

This slavery in Libya thing is a touchy subject, so it’s quite difficult to speak objectively about it; …for two major reasons:

  1. This is slavery we’re talking about making its way back to the African continent where it began, some sort of homecoming.
  2. I fit right into the racial demographic of the slaves being shown in Libya. What an insensitive perspective an objective one would be.

If I am to close my eyes to these reasons trying to bar me from having this conversation, and consider the case objectively Continue reading



Teach them to respect

That kind and kin shall supersede
That heritage must be upheld
That calm wards off all trouble
And restlessness bids it return

Teach them in love

That the belly of a mountain bleeds with motion
When sweet words like sun warmth caresses the senses.
That a fall and a wound may scratch and may itch
But deep down within, the ocean remains still.

Teach them to know themselves

Let them sound their roar to the heavens
Get them used to the bounce of their every step
Let the pride gallivant and proudly parade
Blessed with deep knowledge of their heritage

Teach them in spirit

To communicate where sound is gone
When feeling is numb and thinking is no more
That there is a sane place where nothing is profane
That life prepares our entrance there someday

Teach them to be sound


Photo Credit @kajathiemephotography


‘There are men put on this earth to make laws designed to break the spirits of men. There are those put here to have their spirits broken by those put here to break them. Then there are those who are here to break the laws that break the men who break the spirits of other men. I am one of those men.’ – Steve Toltz


Aphorisms of Dragon-Breathe

A man who touches the tail of a dragon
Saying, “This is a really big four-legged snake”
Has forgotten that dragons breathe fire

A man who speaks face-to-face with a dragon
Must have a nagging wife hungry for fried meat

When your breathe feels like fire
Brush your teeth

Just sigh
And let all men die


Om Nom

There is “the thing”, of which I am an epiphenomenon. You are an outsider; and my circumstantial friend, as we both are outside “the thing”. Our friendship is directed: yours towards me and mine towards you. And with this direction, you force me into the thing while I force you out of this thing. That’s the erroneous representation of love, you see. We have come to like this…. This representation of “could be” as fantasy. The same we have unfortunately come to embrace in our many human cultures. And in order to keep you, I must occasionally forget the fact that I am from this thing (as much as, in a broader sense, you also are) and dance with you the contemporary dance of push and pull, of dig and fill, the grave dance for forgetting oneself to embrace another… the seemingly morbid dance of replacing oneself. The sacred scare!

But when oneself has been redefined as myself in yourself, when your hair grows from my follicles and your vision comes form my very own human oculus, when my thoughts are articulated by your speech and my path walked by your feet… Then comes the realization that you also have a thing to which I am an outsider. And my friendship towards you has removed you from yours, as you removed me from mine. You fell into this error to learn the our mistake. This is not the first time your feet have been enslaved to this tune. Fascinating!

p.s. Try reading this again. But this time, replace the “I”s with the you”s and the “you”s with the “I”s. Keep doing this till the personification vanishes from your mind.