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The uniVerse May 2018
I am what I am
a man with no plan

but I don't understand?
  you don't have a plan

I don't have a plan
what's to understand?

What about your hopes and dreams?

I just dont know I screamed!
Why do I need dreams to succeed
and what is success anyway?
Why can't I just live my life at play

because you have to take things seriously

seriously, but why?

Imagine all the regrets you will have when you die

regrets about not having a plan?
but what if I die before I can fulfil my plan
now its me that doesn't understand
how can I write a story
if its constantly unfolding
it sounds kinda boring
to already know the ending
I would much rather sing
and why do I need a career path
when I would much rather laugh
all this planning seems so daft!

But you have to be a responsible adult

you mean like a banker that steals?
or a soldier that kills?
or a politician that lies?
or a butcher that cuts up animals with knives?

no! no! those are just the extremes!
you got to have dreams!

I do dream
of being free
of being me
no judgements
no labels
just what you see

But what about a vocation?
a location?
somewhere to hang your hat!

life is a vacation
I don't need none of that!

look I am what I am
a man with no plan
you don't have to understand
as long as you can

can what?
just can.
Something I wrote whilst eating my porridge.
"Wala pay sulod atong sako Nay.”*

Sack of rice is empty
Stomach rumbling mercilessly
Mind is hazy, breathing sporadically
Cold porridge is a feast.

“Go home!” says Mama sternly
Frantic, frightened, panicky
Rocks hurled, bullets fly
Blood splatters; running aimlessly

We dodge our way to safety
Cold porridge is a feast.

“I will not,” I say adamantly
She looks at the sack mournfully
Empty. Devoid of sanity.
Cold porridge is a feast.

“We’ll get some soon. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I feel weak, I am crabby
I’m staying despite this misery
Cold porridge is a feast.

Childlike will, piety of soul
Purity of intention, pursuit of living whole

Cold porridge is a feast.

— The End —