I feel that I’m often misunderstood. It’s good cause it helps me to understand the importance of understanding.

Comfort is not a style

There’s a thing called love
That we all forget
And it’s a wasted love
That we all regret

You live your life just once
So don’t forget about a thing called love
Don’t forget, forget about a thing called love

NEVER have them

ALWAYS exceed theirs

To my dear friend Baba Tunday, I miss you. I knew you well yet barely knew you at all. You were a very secretive person and I enjoyed that underneath that large coat you wore everyday, you had many gifts. I learned today that you died in your hotel room. The lessons you taught were key points in my ability to grab a hold of myself and overcome my years spent feeling suicidal. I’m glad I met you in 2010. I’m glad you were a new piece of my life that year and a large reason why it was the greatest year of my life. 

You were a homeless man. You were a homeless man by choice. I never fully understood your reasons but I didn’t need to. I recognized that you were one of the happiest persons I’ve ever met and with all the self destruction I see in modern day society, you had a lot for me to pay attention to. You taught me that the more I judge myself, the more I judge others. Your slow controlled breathing in an environment of individuals struggling for air, taught me that the best possible decision is not possible without peace of mind. Your death will not be in vain. Thank you.