Fragments
My identity, our identity. I think about how little specks, pieces of all my experiences continue to take away from and add to my identity. The people I've met, the places I've been, things I've done and the things that have been done to me. Each piece, some good, some bad, some seemingly neutral, continue to shape my perception of the world. They will determine whether I'm optimistic or pessimistic in my approach to whatever is in my future. I'm aware. I may be a good piece in someone else's fragmented identity, but perhaps, maybe more likely, I may be a bad piece.
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This the gospel truth. I’m coming to make peace with the places I may never be known as good, whatever that may be to them, and deliberately pouring more into the places where I am known and want to be known as love—starting with myself because I can’t live as I love my self if I can’t even love myself. When I got this revelation, it felt so selfish and God sat my butuuro ( booty) down and told me to shut up and listen…
Also, how can I have this too.
PS: You’re a great artist, Michael 🙏🏾