I drink water. I get sunlight. I am just a herb with complex emotions..

Gloomed dreadlocks. Soot of cannabis. My kind of war-everywhere philosophy. But everything is not fine. I choose to smoke the weed simply because it is black man’s faith. I do respect my body and what it is.

God, the cause of all, is one. I saw my god in red-yellow-green stain. The symbol of martyrdom of past rastafari

Africa… my version of Zion. She is my paradise on the earth. I still remember her in a essay of poignant smile. One day i return to her, holding our emotional warmth that they take away from us.

The corrupt Babylonian system down pressed her. Colonialism separated us. One great love is killed diplomatically. Life being a total fear fest choreographed completely in a downward Oscar slavery.

One day everything will be fine. One day she is going to have so much of self love and i never settle her for anything less than what she deserves. I’m a crying cub. Rastafarian!!

Your wound is probably not your fault, but your healing is your responsibility

– Denice Frohman

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