To all you youthful Rebels out there who think that your life is a living Hell living under what you might consider to be a Dictatorship. Slow down and look at the big Picture, a lot of us are on this Earth strictly by accident. Our Parents never meant to have us, but out of an act of nature you were conceived, and there was no going back. Many of our Parents were just Kids themselves when they crawled into the Sack and got knocked up. Some without a conscience abort their mistakes, consider yourself lucky as I do. I myself was a late Pregnancy, my Mother got Pregnant at thirty seven her entire Family advised her to have an Abortion because the Pregnancy was dangerous at that age with poor Health.
Thank God she didn’t listen to them, otherwise I would not be here to tell you that no matter how bad it is where you are it’s worse out there on the Streets. From fourteen to eighteen I was a product of the Streets, I undermined all my Mother’s Christian Teachings, hard work and Dedication to raise an Upstanding World Class Citizen. At fourteen years old I was introduced to the finest Marijuana grown around the World by a twelve year old Boy who went to Catholic School. His older Sister was an Airline Steward, she was the Mule that brought the finest Weed grown from around the World to the Bronx. Her older brother was the Dealer, their Parents were the Pillars of the Community, one a Public Servant the other a CPA.
I was a Rebel without a Cause or a clue doing stupid Shit just to prove that I was a Man being Raised by a Single Mom, and to let her know that I wasn’t going to listen to a Woman. That Woman was Godsend in delivering me from the Streets. At fourteen while doing my Laundry she found an Ounce of Marijuana in my Pocket, flushed it in the Toilet, not a word was said of her find.
Several Weeks later she sat me down and Counseled me of the dangers of smoking Weed and what it could lead to as a Gateway Drug, instead of kicking me out of her House into the Streets where I belonged with my Bitch Ass Attitude about being Raised by a Single Mom. She knew how the Streets were, seen as how her Parents kicked her out of their Home when she got Pregnant with her first Kid.
For four more years she put up with my Crap. Her secret Weapon was her strong belief in God, that we were all put on this Earth to go through Trials and Tribulations, the purpose, to make us strong and Triumphant. Also she used the Technique of Love and Logic Parenting style on me, allowing me to screw up as much as I wanted to, then coming full Circle with my actions and face the consequences, while counselling me about Crime and Punishment.
After four years of living the Street life of Drinking Colt 45, Old English and smoking the finest Weed from around the World, while steadily being prodded to sell it.
I squeaked out of High School barely Literate from the beating I put on my Brain from smoking all that High quality Weed for four years, when I should have been prepping myself for College to become a Literary Scholar, instead of Partying my Life away. In the end Mom was Triumphant, at eighteen I realized that if I continued hanging in the Streets it would only be a matter of time before I was selling Kilos, and doing time with Brothers who wanted to make me their Woman. At that point in my young life I had seen the Light and since steadily walked the straight and narrow. One of my Cousins took an Offer that I refused, made himself Wealthy, caught five Bullets and did fifteen years in Prison, forget about the money, those were my five Bullets and my fifteen years. What good would it have done me to become wealthy while losing my Soul to the Streets. What I am trying to tell you young Rebels, is the Streets is no place to be Somebody. It is better to stay in what you may consider an oppressive situation, make it your Job, your Vendetta, your Driving Force to become Educated and set yourself Free.
P.S. this is my Tribute to Tom Petty’s Soul Asylum.
Call you up in the middle of the night
Like a firefly without a light
You were there like a blowtorch burning
I was a key that could use a little turning
So tired that I couldn’t even sleep
So many secrets I couldn’t keep
Promised myself I wouldn’t weep
One more promise I couldn’t keep
It seems no one can help me now
I’m in too deep
There’s no way out
This time I have really led myself astray
Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one-way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there
Can you help me remember how to smile?
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded?
Life’s mystery seems so faded.