Grip of Conformity

|DEF. OF COOL/ GRIP OF CONFORMITY|FEB. 4, 2012|

“Live.Life.Free.Spirit.Love.Liberate.” are the words that I’ve placed under my banner, but more than just words, these are the principles that I’ve grown to love and adorn. I placed periods in between each word to express a strong sense of declaration, each word stands on its own, each word has something to offer. Collectively these words become an ideal way of life, living free, loving the blessings that are bestowed upon us, and our spirits pure. I also know that anything pure will, no doubt, soon be questioned, ridiculed, badgered, and left with dirty finger prints that turn into open wounds. The hands that left these finger prints are the hands of a murderer, rough, battered, with the blood of thousands dripping from its finger nails. These are the hands that nailed Jesus to the cross, these are the same hands that pulled the trigger in Memphis, these are the very same hands that helped Eira Maghuyop tie that knot before she hung herself. I’ve felt the touch of these hands, cold and strong, they pointed me towards a life of hurt and pain, they have also pointed towards the thought of my life not worth living. These hands ball up into fists when they see the words in my banner, they give the middle finger to liberated individuals, and throw punches at happiness. They try to choke the neck emancipation, and gauge the eyes of vision, knowing that these would eventually loosen the strong grip that its held for centuries. These hands give a thumbs up to the idiots who kill over a pair of Jordans, these hands count millions of dollars gained from music videos filled with degrading lyrics and superficial amenities. These have caused many a mother/father to cry, they have covered the ears of those who listen for deliverance, and have shielded the mouths of those who speak it. The hands of conformity has done unspeakable damage to generation after generation, only a few are blessed to have escaped its grasp. Whats even worse is that now these hands just sit back and twiddle it’s thumbs, because they no longer have to work. It no longer has to pull a trigger, slap, point and laugh, or punch, because now we do it to ourselves. I just want to put these hands in cuffs, and cut off one finger at a time. I’ll use my tongue as the two-edged sword. If you ever feel that these hands are pointing towards you…..I stretch out my hands to you, just as God stretched his to me.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s