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Friendly Addiction - Culture Is Not Tradition — It Means Showing Up

Don’t talk culture to me when you don’t have the emotional quotient that goes with it. When people speak about culture, they often point to traditions, religion, heritage, or social identity. But to me, culture is something far deeper than rituals or backgrounds. Culture is the act of showing up. It is the willingness to be present when no one else is there — when trauma is difficult to process, when loss creates an endless vacuum, when grief has the capacity to swallow the life out of someone. Culture reveals itself in the moments when life is at its most fragile. After death. After accidents. At funerals. During interventions. During rehabilitation. After emotional breakdowns. After panic attacks. After meltdowns. In such moments, human beings do not need lectures or explanations. They need presence. Souls need connection to face the unknown. Yet often people confuse culture with very different things. They measure culture by professional achievements, by the titles they hold ...

Where Hands Were Held

Taking the road with legs that shook..
Unfolding the turns like..
Scraps of the lost book.
Kept walking when the same look…
Was right there as it took.
When those leaves were rustling free…
While the wind came gushing right at me.
Arms snuggled..
Overpowered as the path struggled.
Tracing it’s way through the brook.
When words got whispered..
Gasping to take a breath..
You can’t bring back death.
Try fitting into it’s length.
Shining over was the sun naked..
Piling under were scars sacred.
The giggles, the riddles those rides just unafraid.
Laughter echoed while it crossed the acres wide spread.
Yet it felt that it no longer did meld…
Just stood by myself..
Where those hands were held.
Where the one who remains…
Constantly wanders to get a glimpse of it..
All over again.

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