01/03/2025
A man who does not know himself is like a masquerade that has forgotten the dance steps of his ancestors. He sways at the rhythm of another’s drum, stumbling at every beat. He is a traveler without a map, a warrior wielding another man's sword—dangerous, yet ineffective.
Identity is not merely a label; it is the very essence of one's existence. It is the pulse of destiny, the signature of the divine upon a soul. Yet, so many walk the earth clothed in borrowed identities—men parading in ill-fitting garments of expectations, women adorned in the veils of imposed narratives. A tragedy it is, to live a lifetime without ever encountering oneself.
I am Juwon, the son of the I am.