the best people i know.

I have been writing this entry in my head and in my heart for months. I hope I finally get it right.
I want to celebrate the gift of golden friendships; the great rising that is the final realisation that you are not totally alone in the world, that there are others like you and that you will face the world, back to back, together. I want to name names, state events; I want to expose some of the best people I know to the brilliant light of day. I will not arrange it in any particular order and it is by no means an exhaustive list. So, Holy Spirit or profane muse, lead me on:
I celebrate myani. He once said that Nas and I were the reason he was sent to law school. I have to say that he is the reason why those nine months do not feel like a waste. There are few people with his depth that will reach the heights. The world is less futile with him in it.
I celebrate the hotness. When I showed up at her door, teary eyed and heart ached over ada she put aside the protective wall between man and woman and held me in spirit-arms. There is hope between man and woman.
I celebrate my band of brothers, Jacob’s pillow, black pearl, the ship adrift to nowhere land. When the true story is written it will be all of you written into the books as my saviours, my sun, the lighthouse of my soul. To name you or to state your event is not enough and is not allowed. Our cult has its oath of secrecy (wink, wink) and I will abide by it. It will suffice to say that in number and in deed you are perfect. The number 7.
I celebrate ada. Break-ups are nasty, unfortunate affairs and no one comes out of them looking good. But here is a genuine beautiful letdown, something that hurts and heals and then you wake up on an island of lessons learned. The pretenders to the throne of perfection claim that a mistake is a mistake and all is bad. Those of us that live in the real world defined by grace know better. We know all roads lead us back to Golgotha where our king won it all. We fight, we claim love, we chase others but our circle will close soon and whatever we become it will be full of love. The kind truly made in heaven, above romance, above pictures, above embraces and skin and the feeling that would have taken us nowhere at all. When we are there, in that place where “I love you “means only one thing then we can truly say what we need to say and nothing else.
I celebrate Nas. For here is a pat on the back, a pint of frosty beer, a good story told well, a night with the inklings. Here is faith above fantasy and truth above the many faces we put on to feel a little better than the inner disasters we think we are. Here is the word of God, the chasing of alcohol and beautiful women, the conversation never-ending, the laughter real. Here is the man apart, the koko, the star, the ear, the heart, the head. Here is the “what the fuck?” and the island of troy and the place where Arthur is buried and Excalibur sleeps beside him. Here is the book and the author, the poem and the play, the playwright and the verse, the director and the stage, the stage light and the actor. Here is the truth, finally. A bleeding, breaking heart that nothing ever satisfies and nothing ever will. Until, God. Weak, needy, obnoxious, loud, proud, perfect son of God. Flamingo 1. The common rumour is that the man that stands next to you at that shadow of final reunion they call a wedding should be the best man you know. I know my best man.
I celebrate these and the many more in pages to come.
I am better because we all share the same century.
Nagode.