she said write about the good times

So... let me recount something good. Should it be reflection of my most memorable times in the hood? I wish I could, maybe I just should... write about the good times. Times that seem to get lost in my dash to the past. I can... I can quickly revisit those spaces that I still have. The ones I somehow hold onto. Let's see, the good times... Ummmmmmm, hell - it's all a muhfuggin mystery. I don't know whats so good about the "good times". I mean... I'm grateful for a lotta shyt. But ummmmm, what may be seen as good are the times of transition.... Like, like when I was sleepin on the floor in my brothers kitchen. Yeah, I was like... ummmmm, like 10. Well, when we left that muhfugga, it was good! Or.... ummmmm, when we stopped sleepin from hotel to hotel. Yeah, we gotta a one-bedroom apt. Me, my lil bro, my moms and my pops... crammed in that muhfugga... Hell, when my ass went off to college and finally had my own room (shared wit a roomie)... I no longer had to sleep on the living room floor. Hmmmmm, that was a good time. Mannnnnnnn..... not to add a hint of scarcasm, but these are my good times. Well, I'm off to bed now.

I'm out

What yellow brick road(?)

I was thinking I would see her today. Sittin down on the front porch with a cloudy haze of smoke playin in my face... It all began to to turn white. The edges were smeared with white and the circle closed in. For a moment I spoke to her. She was there alone. Still standing there with her pants down. Not a frown, but lost. Watching him walk away. The fence seemed to be getting closer as his long strides carried him into the distance. Soon his strides were met with a pace that latched onto the fence and then over. I never saw him again. I never knew him before. Pants still down and afraid to leave from behind the brick wall. Nothin yellow about that one. It was dark, although daylight was peeking around the corner. Other kids were riding bikes, playing carroms and laughing as children do. It was my first deliverance into the darkness with so much sunshine just around the corner. I had to pull my own pants up. I suppose it was something positive that my mother taught me. Maybe it was my father, I don't know. What I do know is that she's still there. Stuck behind the wall. Pants down. Tears escaping her little eyes. No one noticed. Not one adult. No one came to help her. Not one adult. I talked to her today. I told her it was okay to come from behind that wall. I was going to protect her. I was going to console her. I was going to hug her and let her know that she didn't have to be there anymore. Sometimes she motions towards me. Other times I sit and stare and she does the same. Three and a-half years old. Not much life in this little body. At least not enough to defend herself. I watched her walk out from that space. Pants up. Fearful of the teasing from the other children. I watched her walk out, but noticed she had left so much behind. She still remains behind that wall. Pants down. Tears escaping her little eyes. She didn't know that she had left herself. Only Three and a-half. Only moving from where he left her. By herself. Helpless. Alone.

Hello

Hello world... one plug in my ear and an Iphone screaming lyrics from the counter. Absolute chaos at 3-plus a.m. in the mornin. I was hesitant at creating this space. A space that she'll ask about when she interviews me. Ha,ha... gotta smile and laugh and make life a lil easy right now. Soon enough it'll be phivuh.71 and time to rest my head. So I solute the world and those who are sleepin on our continent. To the others "Have a good f*ckin day" (and I do mean this sincerely).

Peace