Every man takes the limits of his perspective for the boundaries of the world, and so the black truly is still a slave in mind and in heart. Systemic racism, injustice, wrongdoings, these are very real, but so is the inertia that never transforms to kinetic force. Every man is a victim of his will and a product of his circumstance, he flirts with the fences of his garden but never jumps. It all takes place as dawn follows dusk. But nature does not stop where we stop, she begins where we end, such that I carry the whole universe particle por particle within (the strict confines of) my entire essence.
Why is one's "I" so weighted? And why is resistance such a heavy repellant? I lament that many will be born and succeed phenomenons without truly and honestly having have passed through this one, that some will cease to be without ever having been. That death is an aspiration, and lethargy a refuge. That resistance is hard walls and circumstances predestinations. That faith is only for the saint, courage only for the bold, peace only for the meek, and victory for the callous. — Abdul
We are far apart; — Abdul
↪Abdul Nice. Much appreciated. — Hanover
Is this not why it's an extrovert's world? — Hanover
We are far apart; it is indeed a miracle when two men of distinct schools of thought join to kindle under the fire of a united friendship. Friendship is divine, but it necessitates a spirit to eliminate distance. — Abdul
No Man Is an Island
No man is an island,
Entire of itself;
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were:
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were.
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee. — John Donne
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