So hungry, so insatiable, and yet so full.
Tearing up the asphalt while standing still on the red.
At once serene and calm, and yet in the middle of chaos.
Now so mellow on Mary Jane, and yet so eager for Goliath’s jugular.
A fixated workaholism, and yet slacking off like a bum on Bourbon St.
The question was asked: What would you change in your life if you could rewind and adjust?
Now is the time when I stop and look back at the leap of faith I made eight years ago when I walked into that boiler-room of a callcenter to sell English language newspaper subscriptions to the Chinese speaking residents of Toronto, and the equally uninterested high-octane Bay St. brokers who wouldnt even deign to use that rag to wipe themselves after finishing business in the men’s room.
Getting chewed up and spit out multiple times on an hourly basis became my life. Sworn at, threatened, scolded, verbally castrated, it seemed to never end. I was undergoing the trials of Sisyphus, but for what crime? I did not know. At times I felt like a deformed fetus, covered with amniotic fluid, left on cold hard asphalt of a darkened alleyway after an impromptu abortion, unfit even for canine consumption. I’d sit on the subways while going home, listless like a zombie, my ears still burning with the searing hot branding iron of rejection after rejection.
But I was just a poor college student, and I had bills to pay and hungry mouths to feed. Continuing along and going straight ahead seemed just as good (or as useless) as turning left or right – when all around you is nothing but a bleak and barren landscape, what do you do? You just keep trudging along.
The summers and winters came and went, as did new trials and challenges, delights and surprises. the ups and downs. The general trajectory, as upwards as it was, all became a blur. I didn’t know what the Higher plan was; after all, how can a simple needle possibly know or even begin to appreciate the master tailor’s beautiful, bespoke design? But I did begin to realize and accept that I was in capable, all-knowing Hands. God’s omniscient view of me was not linear or even dynamic. It was complete and all-surrounding in a way indescribable in any language known to mankind, because we have nothing to describe an external vantage point of the time and space continuum since we can only exist within it.
And so with that in mind as I race towards the next chasm, gone is the fear. There is no sweat on my palms. My legs and thighs know no hesitation. Every sinew and every synapse in my body is now powered by a monstrous V12 with all throttles wide open, sucking down that potent torrent of experience, understanding, conviction, and unbridled desire. The height of the precipice matters not to me, for it only amplifies my devastating impact with which I am loosened upon the challengers awaiting on the field below.
Like a tiny pin dropping and yet creating a paradoxical 120 decibel thunderclap, you understand that my answer is still … nothing.
I wish there was more of me
What a killer pack we could be.
I wish there was more time on my plate
Ideas into reality I could translate.
I wish there was more fire and rain to call down
So I could take you out along with the town.
But damn! a beautiful and creative mind
Is what I’ve been blessed with by design.
You think I’m lost so deep in the fray
But rain or shine, I’mma win this play.
So with a twinkle in my eyes and a merc’s grin
I see the field open wide and you know I’m all in.