TRADITION

I most confuse.

I'm infatuated with them. Not able too let go. I admire and honor them. The addiction has me waking up middle of night in cold sweats from my slumber, yelling from the top up my lungs "GIVE ME MORE!, GIVE ME MORE!! GIVE ME MORE!!!"

There was a time not so long ago they didn't exist in my life, yet they replaced the equivalent of the man whom raised me, taking me to brothel too force me to be a man.

As if I hear him screaming almost to a Chant " IN! OUT! DOWN! UP! IN! OUT! DOWN! UP !! BOY, BE A MAN.

This is where I'm confused, at what point do I become a man from a boy, in and down or out and up.

Along with his navigation directions, I hear " MY FATHER DID THIS, HIS FATHER DID IT, HIS FATHER DID IT, IT'S TRADITION"

In my mind I'm thinking when did it start? When will it stop?

Women being used for their body with no consideration for her well bring and young boys forced to do the unthinkable in order to become men. Both are victim of traditional values which have been past down from generation to generation.

As I look for those answer I met them. Little did I know they would consume me, every thin tread of the fabric of my Moral soul, deep in the bowels of my Sprite.

As we became acquitted I realize there will never be one with out the other.

With an irresistible force I search for one too gain the other.

They have caused a magnitude of problems for me. Because as they became a part of me, I desired, wanted and needed to share them. To make others see them. I focus my new acquaintances on my seed and especially people of greater influence too my seed.

But the ones closest too me where content and comfortable with tradition, not seeing the harmed it caused, not realizing there is another way. Love one's self, to grow in love with others. Too live life with no master real or fictitious, understanding you are the Lord and Master of your destiny and all responsibilities ( good or indifference) are on you.

As if I pulled a rug from under their feet, I'm labeled hurtful, called crazy, they have become ashamed and annoyed with me.

Do they not need air to breathe, food for nourishment and water to drink?

I suffocate, starve and grow parched for thirst without them.

I find I must disassociate myself with my people whom I once call family and friends.

Because when one has gone to them there is no going back and to hear others forsake them and hold on to the myth of tradition, hurts at core of the bone..

You see that tradition required force, yes I was kicking and screaming until it was to much too bear, I went numb and silently acquiesce as most of us do.

Yet, at that moment I questioned, when did it start and when will it stop, I open up the rabbit hole and became intimate with knowledge and truth.