Real

Real

I would say I’m a pretty handsome dude.

I’m ambitious.

A Believer

I’m intelligent,

Funny.

Well-dressed.

Inquisitive.

Sensitive.

I will one day be a Boyfriend.

A lover.

A Husband.

A Father.

I am nothing.

When you strip away these anthropocentric qualities, you have a void.

And as I stand naked in this world, I want to be clothed in something real.

The opposite of fake.

And a synonym for truth.

I mean Jordans are cool and I love em, but they are fake.

Not like china fake, but more like offering no glimpse into a reality.

Someone is starving today.

She feels worthless.

He will kill himself today.

Global foreign policy is in a dilapidated state

And I don’t really care.

I mean I say I do. I have all those political-influenced bracelets, but the minute the Lakers  come on, its all about my team.

And sorry little African children ,you don’t make the roster. So imma cut you from my train of thought and you can come back and fight for my 1 dollar a day on the 30 second commercial.

Your stomachs can swell for my sympathy.

Haiti can crumble for my conviction of guilt.

I want to be clothed in something real.

I want my yes to be yes and my no to be a no.

I want to genuinely be affected by the devastation of others

My heart wants to break , but my emotions are blocked by

Consumerism.

Materialism.

Narcissism.

Clothed in these rags, I’m cold.

  Numb to a reality.

Life does not revolve around my existence but rather my existence revolves around the life of Him.

And his reality encompasses far beyond the shallow that I cherish.

Girded in his Love, He warms my soul,

Reminds me of what matters.

I don’t matter

I don’t exist

He exist through me.

That’s the reality.

That’s clothing.

That’s it.

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About Literarydimes

This blog is a reflection of me. My random thoughts and current happenings. Enjoy. Engage. React.
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