Even up till today, I could still remember the conversation I had with Bobby as if it just took place a couple minutes ago. Bobby was an enigma. A mystery. I never really understood him until that day.
Not only Bobby was a brother, he was also a friend. He got my back as how I got his. We were invincible. No one dares to fuck with us. When you’re with Bobby, you’re a made man. Bobby thought me a lot of things. Things that you couldn’t learn from books or fancy college degrees. Things that shape your mind and differentiate you from mice and men. He thought me how to open my eyes wide and see the world clearly as how it should have been seen.
I would be honored to say that he was my mentor in life.
Bobby was my drug connection. He was the epitome of my other world that I am not proud of. Despite our differences, we never really talk about the things that really matter to us. Things that hurt us most. That’s the way of the cursed. You don’t talk about things; you keep them in a box and seal them away for good. And you never speak of it ever again.
That day I broke the code. I asked him why and I asked him what. We were both silenced.
He waited a couple of breaths. He took a deep puff and sighed. And he looked up straight. Far away and deep. And he said,
I came from a place where they won’t even look at you if you got nothing up your sleeves.
I was a nobody. Hell, I am still a nobody if I can’t prove shit. I am who I am and I got what I got. My hustle. My swag. My pride.
You are what you are. You can’t change the fact that you came from the projects. From a broken family. No matter how far you run from your story, you’re still the little bastard you daddy left for a quick fix. Fuck it all.
All that don’t matter, though. It’s all good, brother. You got that pain, the desperation that triggers motivation, that drive that all the money in the world can’t buy. That means that you have the right, hell the authority to blast. You gotta blast away. You gotta hustle. That is the only way for people like you and I can demand the respect that we deserve. And that is why we’re so god damn dangerous.
And just like that, I realized that we aren’t that different after all.
Rest in peace. My friend, my brother. In another life, we’ll share a couple of cold ones.
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2 comments:
you and need to have a good talk about this...I mean, i know that our life journey is our best teacher, yet, why some journey are perilous compare to others?
Still trying to figure things out...haih!!!
My main man, thanks for your comment.
Take it this way, He wouldn't give it to us if He knew we couldn't handle it.
Some are perilous than others, that's true. But you gotta see, how we deal with it defines us of who we really are.
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