I don’t know who the fuck people think I am. I’m 23 years old. Educated. Employed. I’m my own woman. Like I told xxxxxxx today, don’t let the birthdate fool you. The best thing about growing up where I did is that we grow up far too fast. When I tell you all this is my 7th life, I’m serious. There’s the few years I don’t remember. When I was 5, I woke up in a cold world and for the next two years I tried to understand the world on my own. With only strangers to care for me, I learned politics. I learned that people don’t understand me. & that I have questions either they can’t answer or won’t. I learned that people hold the truth from you and that you have to figure out what’s going out on your own. I learned what you do and don’t say. I learned how to answer questions without telling the truth & without lying. I realized that there was a difference between right & wrong. I learned that sometimes, good people do bad things for good reasons. I learned the people care for you, but that doesn’t mean they love you. & that just because someone is by your side today, that doesn’t mean they’ll be there tomorrow. By 7, I was an adult trapped in a child’s body and understood that growth is a biological function. I realized that the only learning was only done by paying attention. I learned that if I wanted to learn more, I would have to pay attention while other’s weren’t. So when I went home, I read my books. While my classmates read the bare minimum of 30 minutes a night, I read till I couldn’t anymore. I’d fill in the time slot and have my big brother sign over the line that read, “parent/guardian.” (I never had much respect for that line because all it meant was “the adult who is allowed to tell you what to do.” I didn’t respect that. I knew how long I read for. Why would I lie? I didn’t need “permission” to go anywhere, I felt. I know what the fuck I should and should not do. & If I was to do something wrong, I also knew what I was doing. #BelieveThat
Thank God all these bottles I pop. All this paper I been getting… and I’m only 23. I’m the shit now. Look at me. Meek Mill ft Rick Ross – “I’m a Boss”
I’ve been me. I’ve had the same attitude. The difference between then and now is what I say aloud & how I say it. When I write on this blog, I say whatever the fuck I want – no holds barred –because this *looks around* belongs to me. This is my world. Whether you agree or not. Whether you like it or not. & while I don’t have complete control on what will happen next, I know how to influence the outcome. I watch my actions. I choose my words carefully. I plot my steps logistically. Life has never been a game to me and fiction never truly interested me –although I enjoy a good romance novel & Toni Morrison is brilliant. Me, though? I’ve never been good at it. I’ve never been good at making shit up. I wasn’t much of a liar –If I couldn’t tell the truth, I just wouldn’t say shit period. I was that kid who just stayed quiet while she got yelled at. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not going to fight you. I’m going to let you feel however you feel because I feel how I feel. & If we happen to disagree, well, hey… that’s the way of the world. Not saying you’re wrong, but neither am I.
“Are you sad about him,” my mom asked. She was busy cutting up all the random shit that goes in a paella as I sat looking through the glass door into the back yard. I wasn’t looking at anything, and yes I was thinking about him, but sad? “I’m more pissed off than anything else,” I told her. “I feel bad for him. He doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know what?” she asked.
“I’m a good kid, yo.” As I said it, I stumbled over the “kid” because I want to call myself a “woman,” but I stayed with it because of a conversation I’d had with xxxxxxxx the other day. He told me I make him feel young. I told him it’s not my youth, it happiness. No matter how old I get, that’s one thing I’ll never let go of –and it’s something I know people judge me for. For some reason, people think that as you get older, you need to become more serious. Nah. I’ve taken life seriously from the moment I realized I existed. Because the moment I realized I existed was when my entire world was taken from me. I realized that people leave. That sometimes, you’re alone. & you won’t know how long you’ll be alone until you’re not. You should never count the days you’re alone. You take each of those days and get as much out of them as you can, because when life give you lemons, my niggas… When those days are over, then you look back and thank them for what they made you into. I thank God for the days he abandoned me in the desert. I made it the fuck to water on my own.
I’m a God. & I’ll blaspheme until you realize it. If not, I’m a messiah. A living martyr, & no less. I’m here for something. I’ve put myself in the poorest, toughest, most taxing situations to show people how to make it through. I do what people are afraid to do. I say what they hesitate to express. I am truth in the physical form and if anyone was to tell me I’m not God’s gift to world, we’d have to sit and have a long discussion. People think that to be perfect, you must have never committed a sin. I believe that to be perfect, you have to understand the difference between right & wrong –as well as the right times to do wrong. Whoever said illegal was the easy way out, couldn’t understand the mechanics or the workings of the underworld. Granted, Jay-Z is a human being like the rest of us. But how many Jay-Z’s are really out there? Answer: There are as many Jay-Z’s are there are Marjorie Thousand’s. I’m putting my name in the pot already. Remember, I’m only 23. But I’m home already. I’m a grown woman, homie. It ain’t easy walking in my shoes.
Jesus was never phased. Not even Judas could throw him off. It takes a higher level of concentration to see snakes in tall grass. I spot them all the time. I only cut the grass when I’m tired of letting them living off the shit I worked my ass of for. The grass is green on this side, yo. Ask about me. I make lame shit/people/bitches/niggas/nights/events memorable. It’s what I do. I’m the upgrader. Whole time, though, I continue to be myself. My personality will maintain. My ambition never dies. I’m too young for Alzheimer’s, but… I “done forgot more than [most have] ever learned.” (Jay spits some real shit. Pay attention.)
Shit happens. I know that, but it doesn’t have to happen to me. & I don’t have to be a part of it –not if I don’t want to be. I’m making my life exactly what I want it to be. They say that blonde-hairded, blue-eyed guy gave me free will to do so. I’m taking advantage of that. I want to be happy. I want people around me I can trust. I want those people to love me. And if they don’t –straight from the break– I don’t have the time for it. I just feel like people should love me the way I love them. That’s why niggas ain’t shit & trust no bitch. At the end of the day, you only have yourself. & if/when you do choose to walk in the company of others, be weary of who you walk with. Some walked with Jesus, others threw stones. Only Simon, of Cyrene, helped Jesus carry his cross after he was “compelled” by the soldiers (Matthew 27:32). They gave Jesus vinegar to drink before and after he called out for his God. But just like Jesus, there will come a day when I cry out forreal and “the earth [will] quake and the rocks rent; and the graves [will] open” and the skeletons will come out from where we think they belong (Matthew 21:51-53).
& you can try as hard as you want to kill me, but I will rise again.
I’m definitely in my zone.