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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 ...

Right Or Wrong

I am right
You are wrong
I am out of sight
You always got the right song
I am up for the fight
While you sit tight
Yes you are right
Cause none of them know 
What's going on
I am not saying I am right
What's right or wrong
When death happens
When eye dampens
When truth sinks onto you
When lies surfaces up
When try gives up
I am wrong
Why so?
I told you so
That's why
I know how so
That's why
Sometimes eyes are looking
But blind
Because they want to find
What's in their mind
Am I right?
I am evil
My mouth is venomous 
So I was told
I am cold not courteous 
I bite 
When I hiss
Then don't piss 
Where you are cordially invited
That's getting dark
Yes that's my spark
I don't cry
And then laugh amidst crowd
Feeling proud
Of a rotten kid
Who couldn't smell a dying truth
Beneath a nascent vermouth 
I don't cry 
I don't sob
I don't show the mob
That I am missing a door knob
I have no fear at all
I have lost a battle
That I didn't get to win
What is right
What is wrong
I wrote a poem so long
Now people will rise
To even a messy gong
But I know I belong
To the wrong
To the mistakes
To the cheap stakes
To the heap that piles on
To the deep that stinks 
To the leap that sinks
It's a dark turn
and a bloody churn
what you earn
is none of your concern
because soon
everything will
be classified
as either right
or wrong



*pic courtesy - Pinterest 

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