Trees. Growth. Happy New Year.

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We lived. I did, for sure. I made a list and did what I said I would, finishing strong just under the clock.

The heart I ate, and the tea I drank across the pond made up for the rough days in May when attempting to blend into Flatbush and the Lower East Side. I became an architect and I remembered the activist I was when I found out about Mumia.

The motherland was gorgeous, and the love was felt. I established amazing relationships with those who intimated me once, and we’re now building together. I became the man in small circles, and I became the novice in others.

I now move forward to 2015, still the growing tree I promised to be years ago. I’m a friend short, and I haven’t fully recovered, but I won’t be stumped. Growth.

2015 will be our year. Me and my friends and my people ‘nem.

I love you all. And to those who question where we stand, let this be the New Testament. After tonight, all will be forgiven and we can rebuild.

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