I was about 17 years old when I realized that I didn’t really fuck with people anymore. I reached the realization after latching on to the fact that my natural tendency to be conscious and mature was antithetical to people’s common proneness to unconsciousness and immaturity. Before that, I had a moderate collection of acquaintances. It was mostly comprised of niggas that I grew up with and random females. When somebody genuinely “ain’t got time for no bullshit”, if they’re smart, they simply stay away from bullshitting people. My hardness, harshness, intensity, and aggression fluctuated from my late-teens through to my late-20s. And I had discontinuous anxiety about somebody trying me and me losing control. I’m not trying to sound thuggish, but from age 17 to about age 28, I came “this close” to killing at least 20 different pussy-ass niggas! However, I spent the greatest portion of my time to myself. But something about seeing people solo invigorates insecure, passive-aggressive, opportunistic, weak-ass, faint-hearted, hoe-ass niggas. One time, I was with my grandma, a good 16 years ago, and I had driven her to the grocery store. We were at a Wayfield Foods near East Atlanta, and some candy-ass coward, that I had never seen before, walked past me, bumped my shoulder as hard as he could, and turned around as if he was waiting for me to say something. I ignored that motherfucker. Again, I was only at the store with my grandma. The bitch-nigga was with two females and another punk-ass crack baby. Y’all, it took every milliliter of patience and determination that I had, not to pull out my handy-dandy Taurus PT145, and blow that nigga’s head back to the future! Me and my grandma ended up behind the group of unconfirmed murder victims in the checkout line, and all the most human female in the group could do was stare at me with a sad, “I’m sorry that he did that to you” face. There ain’t no doubt in my mind that somebody eventually popped that pussy. But if I’m wrong, and he happens to be alive, I hope he’s in prison. I fucking hate niggas! In my opinion, saying that you don’t condone violence is equivalent to claiming that justice is brutality. Personally, I don’t condone unnecessary violence, “unnecessary” being the operative word. But all cases of violence aren’t identical. When your only two options are melee or misery, it makes sense to choose the option that best buttresses your mental health. I’m sure we all can agree that, sometimes, people deserve to get fucked-up! And it’s not up to us to decide a person’s limits. “Fuck around, find out” is a motto for people who understand that the bullshit be lurking. Yet, how often do people stay on bullshit, just to prove that they “ain’t with the bullshit”?! You can’t fight fire with fire and rationally expect to extinguish the flames, you’re going to inflame the flames. And as cliché as that absolutely sounds, why the fuck does it need to be said?! If you aren’t strong enough to let some shit go, why would you expect anyone else to grant you that grace? “Don’t start nothing, won’t be nothing” means that minding your manners may assure that no one disrespects you. If you’re someone who is liable to be on bullshit, having a bad attitude doesn’t make you admirable, nobody who’s real thinks you’re tough because you’re always ready to argue or fight, people avoid you because you’re repugnant—not because they are afraid of you, people who are hesitant to check you probably just feel sorry for you, and people who attend therapy and have the courage to admit that they have issues will always be stronger than you!
Words are powerful. As someone who reads people well and is inclined to be honest, I’ve found that keeping the demonstrable truth to myself makes my life a lot less stressful. I’m almost always respectful when communicating with people. Yet, I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells when I’m conversing with my relatives, because they’re all sensitive. It’s gotten so bad that my speech cadence slows when I’m talking to them, because I want to make sure that I won’t hurt anyone’s feelings. However, they’re all so sensitive, partly, because none of us knows what it feels like to get well-intentioned constructive criticism, good-hearted emotional support, and positive reinforcement from our relatives. I may be reaching, but I firmly believe that a whole heap of y’all can relate to that, right? We can’t control other people’s emotions, and other people often aren’t capable of controlling their own emotions. So, what are we to do? We can only do the best we care to do. Although, we could all also care more! If it ain’t a math problem, there ain’t no single answer to anything. Relationship dynamics, diets, therapeutic techniques, lifestyle choices, sexual kinks, and social outlooks are just a few of the things we encounter every day that will eternally exist with stark variance. I’m an avid supporter of people doing whatever the fuck they want to do, as long as they aren’t unequivocally victimizing anyone in the process, and I’ll invariably remain with that mindset. I believe that most people want to be happy, but I also acknowledge that mental healthiness is atypical. I can’t even have a regular conversation with my relatives without someone taking offense to something that is logically inoffensive. Obviously, that’s frustrating and heart-rending. Being who I am, someone who tries to help people understand things, imagine me trying to explain something rudimentary to an elder who just doesn’t get it. Now, imagine needing to explain anything rudimentary to an elder! If I could change something about my character, I would love to have more patience. Fundamentally, I am consistent, easy-going, understanding, pragmatic, and more. Yet, when it comes to my relatives, all that shit goes right out the window! And because I somewhat lose myself when interacting with them, it’s healthiest for me to stay away from them. When you’re related to people, they often believe that you don’t have a choice but to deal with their nonsense. About a year before my sister passed last year, she was having trouble with the starter on her car. So, like a good brother, I checked it out, told her that she was missing a bolt that needed to be immediately replaced, and temporarily tightened the starter with the single bolt that was left. I even offered to take her to the auto parts store so she could buy the bolt, but she declined. I knew that she wanted me to buy the bolt for her, when she wasn’t even compensating me for my time. No, she wasn’t broke. And I didn’t have time for that shit, so I just went back home and continued on with my day. She never bought the bolt, but she kept driving the car. Three days later, she was blowing my phone up because the starter had loosened up again, and I just ignored her. Of course, when she passed, that was one of the only things I could think about! I felt bad about ignoring her, but I knew I wasn’t wrong for refusing to enable her manipulative ways. If she would have offered a motherfucker a value meal, a beer, $5, or any form of appreciation, I wouldn’t have been so unconcerned, but she didn’t do that. And our relationship had been that contentious all our lives, but to no fault of my own. My sister was emotionally unstable, and so are all the women in my family. And these motherfuckers act like therapy is something healthy! Yes, that’s a fat joke. And a general unhealthiness joke. But I love y’all, though! Damn, somebody’s definitely, probably going to cry or almost cry from that. But I love y’all, though!
Everything from me is all love. But when it’s not, you’ll know it. When was the last time you wished ill on someone—like, you truly wanted to see something bad happen to them? If that happens often for you, you’re evil! I don’t believe in karma in the sense of it being a supernatural, unstoppable event. However, I do unreservedly believe in cause and effect. And when it’s just, justice is essentially causality. For me, an example of justice is battle rapper, Tsu Surf, being indicted for the gang activity that he boasted about his entire career. I can say the same for Keefe D and his recent arrest in connection with Tupac’s 1996 assassination. Niggas love telling on themselves! And my biggest problem with niggas, is their propensity to play victim when it’s time to atone for all their self-proclaimed realness! In essence, being incarcerated is the central confirmation of a person’s lawlessness. So, it doesn’t make sense for people who proclaim that they’re proud of their outright insubordination to complain about the consequences of being insubordinate! Stupid motherfucker, prison had to be your goal, right? If it wasn’t, why the fuck didn’t you conceal your criminality? Niggas don’t make sense, do they? And why the fuck would I prefer for public menaces to circumvent justice? Get the fuck out of here! Do y’all want to mollycoddle niggas who’ve done nothing but victimize, self-destroy, and negatively influence—instead of endorsing the motion for their rehabilitation? Not only do niggas have life fucked-up, they got us fucked-up, too! Well, let me speak for myself—niggas got me fucked-up! I don’t have any sympathy for unsympathetic wrongdoers. If you don’t want to do the time, don’t do the crime—it’s a simple concept. From a grown-ass man standpoint, I could never see myself allowing my peers to lay down the law in my life. There are too many silly rules and meaningless restrictions in gang banging for that shit to be for strong-minded, unfaltering people! But I assume that gang bangers feel so comfortable in the system because they’re accustomed to curtailments and following orders. Gang bangers can’t wear whatever color they want, they can’t use specific letters of the alphabet, they voluntarily get their asses whooped for violating “the code”, they can’t leave the gang without permission, they can’t travel through certain areas without conflict, they can be arrested for their affiliations alone… y’all niggas are practically slaves! Why would anyone in their right mind subject themselves to subjugation? Whatever I’m doing, if I can’t do it freely, I’m not fucking doing it! And this is why I constantly refer to gang members as cowards who find comfort in companionship. I’m not saying that it’s unmanly and pathetic to garner support from your friends, but that’s not what gang banging is. Gang banging is the congregation of a bunch of fearful, insecure, tense, subservient niggas who are gratified by people-pleasing, malice, and chaos! And there’s not a real man on the planet who will disagree with that! Furthermore, you know those niggas got life fucked-up when they think a grown-ass man is supposed to be afraid of calling them on their bullshit. Ain’t nothing positive about gang banging, so why the fuck would I speak positively about it!? I’d rather see niggas in love than incarcerated. I’d rather see niggas live than die. I’d rather see niggas smiling than frowning. I’d rather see niggas happy than angry. And this is coming from somebody who hates niggas! But do I hate niggas more than niggas hate themselves?! Tsu Surf didn’t give a fuck about himself when he was “rollin’ loud” with the Crips in New Jersey. Keefe D didn’t care about his life when he was committing crimes and smoking PCP in the hood before and after killing a legendary rapper. Niggas don’t respect themselves enough to desire long lives and freedom! So, I don’t respect them either! Peace.