Posts from the new BB

I used to buy a burger and soda from Burger King almost every Friday in high school. We were definitely living in the poor bracket. My Mom was the only source of income and though my parents tried sometimes, often and in most instances we didn't get help from them. Those who have lived at this level and lower know how much that fucks with you. You find many outlets to express your frustration.

Lots of creative and expressive people rise from the ghetto. This upbringing made me both unhappy and creative. I vowed to never be there ever again and I would read anything I could put my hands on so that I could escape. So that I could live someone else's dream and life. I wanted to be anyone but myself and anywhere but where I was.

So every Friday what money I had saved and not used to buy new books I would go to Burger King and buy the tiniest of burgers and a soda and I'd go home and savor it. I would be so happy in that moment because I felt like everyone else. I felt normal. It didn't matter that we didn't get running water til I was high school or that we didn't have in door plumbing. I was just like any other kid who could afford to eat a burger.

We all have these moments and things we use to make ourselves feel better. This memory makes me sad sometimes and makes me really think about all the other kids who don't even have that even this simple a dream. Makes me want to scream for those, especially kids, who have less than I had. Who don't have a burger on Fridays to look forward to, it can make one go crazy.

I wonder what I can do to ease that even for one child.

Posts from new BB

I miss watching HBO's Def Poetry Jam with my friend on Fridays. Miss sitting as close to the TV as possible with closed caption on so I could hear and see every word. We would watch together and discuss afterwards. The good, the hilarious and the bad. We would discuss the feelings they brought up and what had inexplicably change within us from the art we had witnessed.

I remember we talked about the overwhelming love we felt for our mothers one night and the struggles and hardships they went through but would never show to us. I declared that there was nothing I would not do for her and I cried for her. For her youth, for her son, my father, for the opportunities an chances missed and gained. I cried so hard for her. In that moment I cried and I healed and we cried together and it was good.

I miss being this with my friend. I miss knowing who we were together. I miss the nights spent laughing and prophesizing and building plans for the everything we would do together. I miss our vibe together that we were so funny and fun together.

I miss who I once was sometimes. As fucked up as she was the pain was all masked by a kind of forced joy. As flawed as I now realize she was she had a 'fuck it all' attitude that I just don't partake in now. Right now the joy I feel is different, I'm different. My happiness is not a mask for deeper more unhealthy emotions, but I do miss the abandon of youth.

I miss that me sometimes. Miss her ease of laughter and lack of cynicism. Her total lack of awareness, her naivete. Before life beat that shit out of me I used to dream the dreamers dreams. Grandiose plans for my life and my future. Sure I didn't have a clue what or who I wanted to be but that didn't stop me from flinging things out like a 7 year old. 'I wanna be a lawyer, no a therapist, no I wanna be an air force ranger." Ha. I was fucking hilarious. I still dream and I dream big but my dreams have purpose and power now. More structured but still free. I dream the grown up dreamers dreams.

I've found that since we all change and become more of ourselves people tend to put down their old selves never admitting to liking who they were because who they were totally contradicts who they are now. I look back fondly with no regrets and encourage everyone to do the same.

I've never been more clear about who I am today and I figure tomorrow will bring even more clarity. Look back and reminisce but don't regret that old self and that old self's choices. There's nothing you can do to change the past, look back and try to find the lessons hidden within these memories. Learn from what the you back then is trying to teach. Pay attention to yourself.