Honey M.J.

Honey dipped marijuana extra dry was my first experimentation to sell dimes at the cost of a quality product. This was of course in the days of my early life at around the age of 14-15. I was in no way trying to impersonate a big time dope dealer, just pushin' what I had to make a few bucks to spend. The customers were satisfied but I was not lookin' to make a career of slangin' M.J. while I too was enjoyin' it firsthand. I had side tracked and moved onto priorities rather than livin' the life of a money muncher. It was a call I had to make wisely to get where I am today.

Dirty Laundry

The old local complex laundromat is notorious for engaging in illegal activities. At such a young age was I exposed to bad habits influenced by older cats. My first tattoo was finished in there (when I was 12) and the tools of a crime I did not participate in but labeled an accomplice to, was dropped in there. First came the 40 oz. OE and St. Ives, Silver Satin, then stress sacks moved onto mid greens and chronic, after that I fumbled with methamphetamines for just a few months in the span of a couple of years. All in a little room provided for the tenants, housed attempts to break in and steal the quarters that ate nonstop once in a long while. The electric breaker that powered the lights in front of the complex and everyone's door was shut off and on vicariously. The joy of a rebellious youth matures sooner than a young hip adult with no prior experience.

Summers Past

I can't help but sit here and explain a debacle I have going on this very moment from early on this year. Just before the economy started getting weak last year quarter 2-3, I was laid off from a company that employs nationwide. I then was given a choice to file for unemployment (which I did) and look for jobs (which I received) nearing the end of 3rd quarter. It wasn't a problem until a few fellow acquaintances started taking advantage of my generosity during my two month break last summer. I payed my bills and had savings to pay the following month in the event I do not get hired elsewhere. So, long story short, I've partied hard those available days and evening knowing what I knew then, that I was heading downhill from being around those guys on a daily(nothing against ya'll, my judgement was clouded). My escape from the harsh reality, so it seems, was to drink my frustrations away and somehow lead to what I thought I would never get into again, drugs. Not that I haven't experienced them before but to get into a semi habit of tokin' was ill fated. Things started getting harry and my conscience snowballed into a catasrophic life changing event altogether. The choices I had started getting slimmer and by the time I realized what big a mess I got myself into was too late to back track and attack verbally and set things straight. This led me on a journey to clean my act up on the months ahead clearing my conscience from anything that I deemed unworthy to deal with.

Free Life

The best things in life are free. Among these life changing events are obstacles to overcome and passages to pursue. Acquiring the right amount of tools to enhance our daily living is a plus. Setting an example and seeking a purpose defines our genuine quality. Reaching out and guiding the not so sure boosts morale. Only when tragedy occurs do we as people care to look beyond the vertex and give a helping hand. In the essence of immediate failure comes the prominent effort to correct these problems. Everything else that comes to mind is just part of a relief. A wider stance, grabbing chance, up to the minute clamorous glances make up the neverending
dance.

Soul Crush

Would you consider a person dispicable for having done wrong once at an early age into adulthood relating to relationship matters? Is it too extreme to label someone in your books a "cheater" because of one incident? How would you go about proving a changed person by simply asking or believing in their words? I ask these questions because I was that young adult who committed such a horrible thing. Despite the guilt, I have confessed to the young woman I was dating. It was bottled up and whirling in my head, the vivid words of wrong doing shot out from my lungs expressing a forbidden plea. She gasped in awe, tears trickling, emotions climbing, heart wrenching, gut crunching, and I cringed disgracefully. Looking at her poor soul smashed from words no one ever wants to hear set the tone straightforward into victim mode. I cannot say it was difficult to have said those things but to live an ongoing lie and secret was something I'm not down with. I do not feel good about what took place but, crushing a heart is the worst anyone can do to someone else whether unintentionally or otherwise. My views and goals have changed, I accomplished a few and many are bound to come. I believe everyone deserves a second chance of redeeming themselves to be accepted for forgiveness and moving on carrying the idea that change is for the good of self improvement. I would like to argue to anyone that “once a cheater, always a cheater” is not exactly true based on exercising the transition. If you feel obliged to answer those mistakes and erase some names from the bad list to not so bad then seeing is believing on top of building a rather unique trust that shows a slight interest to sustaining the prior relationship towards that person.

S&D

Steve and Darrell, my brothers from one other. It ain't the same when the pack is splintered, I put up the packs of sticks that cause cancer and shivers. Don't forget a trigga, my ways of livin' has been cleansed from litter. No support what so ever, I gotta live like a feather, floatin' freely from dimes untethered. No boundaries, crossed forever, inundaned mandated brainwave that's marked unclever. The freeway clear day drops flee near together, I'm under the weather, no matter or whether, it's known irregular to be at peace now then never. Outspoken in the publics eye, keepin' a composure, I'm not ready to die. Self contained, I trained my mind, not runnin' but hummin' a cry, J.C. doesn't forgive, he's dead for tha lie. In bed, it's fetal position and fatal to be wishin' what not and who gives a kissin'. Please, keep it real until the end it's near. 2012 and 2016 is the date you ain't gotta fear. Lil bro showin' love from a complicated day facin' the rear, the view none other is drownin' face flat weepin' in tears.

R.I.P. George

It was a gloomy friday in the month of November the 2nd, 2001. I was just 15 years old that time and was enjoying an evening at Cal Rec. playing billiards with some neighboring friends. It was a usual afternoon through evening day as any other, the intentions of getting home safe was not really an issue to be concerned with besides knowing the correct path to take when heading back home as the racial tensions between Asians and Hispanics were starting to peak again. Once a few of us left, we assumed the remaining party would be ok since they had bikes and we pushed wood through the urban concrete cracked surface streets and alleys. By the time we got back, I was in a frenzy to spark up a blunt and get my high on. At that moment, a half a dozen gunshots were let off in the radius of about 2 1/2 blocks from where I was. I quickly questioned an acquaintance next to me if he thought that would be one of our boys in the midst of puffing. In half hours time, my brothers' friend came franticaly explaining what he thought had happened since he was near the scene of when it occured. I then took in what appeared to be a dream in the wake of coming to disbelief and felt blank throughout the end of the ordeal. I couldn't shed a single tear when it came to the final viewing as it struck me vaguely on why not, but why so and what's really at hand as a whole.