Mind
“Clarity is not loud. It arrives when the noise stops.”
Beyond Impressions
This reflection is about choosing meaning over metrics—connection over clout. It questions impression culture and re-centers communication as the real currency.
“Connection outlives attention.”
I’m proving what’s possible—
and that’s connection.
We’re too impressed with impressions.
Communication matters.
These people are already famous.
It’s time to get our shine.
Influence
Sometimes it isn’t advice that changes you—it’s language.
Not answers, but tools.
This reflection sits with the moments when someone else’s clarity helps you recognize what you’ve already been carrying.
“This didn’t fix me.
It gave shape to thoughts I was already living.”
This didn’t fix me.
It gave shape to thoughts I was already carrying.
Still Adjusting
A reflection on emotional intelligence, expectation, and the quiet work of recalibration after disappointment.
“Growth isn’t loud.
It recalibrates.”
Superman needed the sun.
All I need is semi-auto drums—
a rhythm of coming up,
a cult of focus, not followers.
Adjusting to being treated unjustly,
just to get comfortable being Jhust.
What?
Every answer leads to results.
We don’t do refunds—
even your heart ain’t enough.
This is emotional intelligence.
Sort out your emotional benevolence.
Reality versus expectation.
Reference the difference
between vision
and belief.
My expectations were so high
the disappointment
had me sleeping for weeks,
swimming in sheets.
This recoup will be elite.
Build back from destruction.
Keep in mind—
I’m still adjusting.
Until We Start
A reflection on potential, reinvention, and how greatness rarely arrives in familiar uniforms.
“History doesn’t repeat itself.
It reappears in new forms.”
The next Haile Selassie
could be an architect.
The next Malcolm X
could be a fashion designer.
We won’t know
until we start.
Life, Treated Right
I don’t need money or gifts.
I want to experience life—
and treat it right.
I don’t need money or gifts.
I just want to experience life—
and treat it right.
Chill with Teedra Moses on the beach,
listen to her sing to me.
Experience that slow-jam party
transitioning with Lissa Monet.
Go to Jamaica,
listen to reggae.
Go to Brazil
to learn the Maringá.
Travel the shores.
Skydive out a plane.
Ride the longest train— (pause)
Nah fi hear no one complain.
Destined
It isn’t luck.
It’s what remains when hesitation falls away.
What comes to you when you stop asking
and start moving.
“Everybody doesn’t make it back.
I did.””
I’m destined to live the dream
for my peoples who—
didn’t make it back home
like I did.
I felt left out, like a kid.
I thought we was about to ride around.
You dap me, said, “Jhust, I’m out.”
“Tighten your hoodie up.”
I turned around, you nodded, said peace.
Two weeks later, the news said homicide—
but the driver still managed
to drive to the hospital.
You was shot nine times before—
c’mon, you can make it.
The news said
y’all died in the car
at the hospital.
All we did was play Driver
on PlayStation 2.
My whole crew died
like Juice.
And I don’t have no proof
that I’m the last one left—
still alive,
still standing.
So I’m destined to live the dream
for my peeps
who didn’t make it.
Low Cost
Nothing is free.
Especially the things that save you.
A like won’t cost you a million dollars.
No risk.
No sacrifice.
No explanation required.
Just a small acknowledgment that something reached you.
I’ve watched people hesitate anyway.
As if recognition were a currency they might run out of.
As if generosity needed approval.
But attention moves things.
Quietly.
Incrementally.
You don’t always see the change right away—
just a shift in posture,
a little more confidence in the next step,
a reason to keep going.
Nothing dramatic.
Just the world responding
to being noticed.
Headlights
You don’t need the whole road.
Just enough light to keep moving.
Brighter than LED headlights,
enlightened enough
to know
my head is right.
Outside The Lines
I stopped asking what fit
when nothing ever did.
Coloring outside the lines isn’t a mistake—
it’s the beginning of your masterpiece.
It’s a Lonely Road
Some roads don’t offer reassurance.
They offer space.
This is about walking anyway—
learning to trust the pace,
the silence,
and yourself.
It’s a lonely road
when you write episodes in your head.
Some people don’t understand.
They call it weird.
I avoid the stress
by not paying attention.
I’ve written for years.
I was scared.
The mind is rare.
So is time.
I get better—
more expressive,
more patient,
learning the basics.
Until one day
the way I think
speaks for itself.
Wake Up Call
This isn’t a warning.
It’s the moment you realize
effort doesn’t guarantee belonging,
and worth doesn’t promise safety.
That’s the part that changes you.
I wasn’t properly loved.
So my emotional intelligence
developed through negligence.
You learn fast that way.
Not because you’re gifted—
but because you have to be.
You grow up knowing you’re beyond good enough
and still get rejected.
Beyond good enough
and still unaccepted.
That’s the part that messes with you.
When effort doesn’t equal belonging.
When worth doesn’t guarantee safety.
You start asking the wrong question.
Not am I enough?
But am I too much?
Too present.
Too aware.
Too intense for people who only know how to meet you halfway.
That’s when the voice changes.
Not cruel.
Not loud.
Just firm.
Mr. J. Elahi—
sir.
It’s time to get up.