The Foundation

On day one of his life, the dark alleys, sinister figures, alpha dog stares, laid the foundation for a permanent state designed schematically for long-suffering. It’s like putting a shock collar on someone their entire life setting it to randomly and lightly shock them until they die. Not a day went by where he didn’t have some sort of knot in his stomach. Every morning he’d get up, put on whatever clothes were lying around, head downstairs, hoping that mom would be making breakfast and not be dead on the floor after the hurricane that stormed our living room at what seems to always be 2:37AM.

He often wondered to himself while walking to grade school if today would be the day, the day someone died in front of him, the day he finally experienced the anguish of a stray bullet from an ostracized serial number-free MAC-10 that would paralyze him for the rest of his life. He knew it happened every day in his neighborhood but fate or God had for the time being only allowed him to be a television spectator in this socio-economic social experiment gone horribly wrong.

The Stage

I woke up in a haze on the bus. Who are all these people and why are they using all my shit? Time for a quick smoke. I need to call home.

The kids seem to be ok. I’m not totally sure if what I’m doing is “right” but I do know that it’s breathing life into my only alternative. I know nothing else.

I talked about the same stuff at all 3 radio stations today but my head hurts and all I want to do is go to bed for 3 or 4 days. “In prison” is all relative I guess.

Next week is my last show for awhile. I hope you all miss me. I already miss everyone and I’m still standing here having a conversation with them.

The Hiatus

One last fist held high up in the air, one last salute to all. He scanned wearily the wide open space, slowly from the far left to the far right. His exhausted smile only made them want more. Now hearing only the muffled high pitched tone heard when a bomb goes off at close range, he turned, grabbed his coat jacket and hat and headed off the platform. On his way, following the reflective tape arrows on the ground, directing him off, he looked up at various crew members in passing. They looked at him, knowing where he was headed. he held his chin up high like it was no big deal but inside he was awash with feelings of dread and doom, but walked like he was 10 feet tall.

“Please empty all of your personal belongings and effects into the tray. They will be returned to you when you leave. “

Tags: 47, 50 cent, eminem, ice cube, lil wayne, rapper, rapper life, rich harris, thug life, tupac shakur