Mud to soil

After I write this and you read this it’s going to prove either you’re not alone or I am alone.

When I write it’s like verses not like rappers in the booth but psalms and scriptures. When they try to send me to Hell im asking god to be my character witness and I pray to the lord that he ain’t snitching.

Pockets, cold psalms and streetlights.

The holy trinity.

I guess this optimistic fear makes my cycle complete.

Sometimes my thoughts is like the dark rooms you develop photos in.


I guess we starting it like that.

Tell Eddie open up the pit I’m about to write some shit…

Sometimes my thoughts is like the dark rooms you develop photos in.

So pictures this…

I never wanted to die, it’s just I wasn’t afraid of death. When you seen it all you don’t give a fuck what’s next. Take the rest of me if at this point there is anything left. I probably wouldn’t say a prayer with my last breath.

I was numb to it all.

Because angels on high know the struggle I’ve seen. And when I was hiding under the bed the demons was with me. So the choir of the bad or the symphony of the good was conducted by me.

Proceed with extreme caution…

Go down the rabbity hole this ain’t wonderland. I’m just an asshole with drugs in the left hand and curiosity in my right brain. Vicious memories move at the speed of terror through my mind this ain’t Wanderlust. My biggest problem to this day is there’s no one I really trust. I never think I do enough. Everyone leaves; that’s my history. I won’t say no names so some this will seem like Unsolved Mysterious.

I remember vividly…

They told us _____________ died from a suicide. That he was at party went to the room upstairs and blew out his brains. But the streets hear everything from the screams of the mothers, to the whispers of the murderers. He was in the wrong side of town when he knew he had enemies. And where I’m from ain’t no vegans when you know you got beef.

This was all before gentrification took these streets.

See I looked up to _________ cause he showed love to me. He repping colors that didn’t match the hue of his enemies. So they grabbed him up, tied him down and said it’s time to claim something else. He wouldn’t change for no one else. So they did what they did to send a message to everyone else. I went to school the next day didn’t even tell my family for a week. He was only 14. They telling me in school a man landed on the moon and I cannot see past the block. An abuser in the other room and I’m still more scared of the cops. My mindset is pyramids now I want to be at the top.

But sometimes I still think about how all I wanted in this lifetime was for all the noise to stop.

I wanted all the noise to stop…

I’m tired of being what you want me to be

Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface

I don’t know what you’re expecting of me

Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes

Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow

Every step that I take is another mistake to you

I’ve become so numb, I can’t feel you there

Become so tired, so much more aware

By becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you

Being me ain’t hard as it use to be.

If you dont think about your own death then I don’t trust you. You haven’t been through enough in life darkness hasn’t properly touched you.

My mama loved me. When we was sleeping in cars, breaking in houses, learning to survive under street lights on corners I thought she be better without me. I wasn’t always this carefree black boy. I use to wake up Christmas morning without no toys. Gunshots out the window, screams from the other room. So now I sleep with a fan every night cause I still need that noise. And every woman that spent the night think I just like to be cold and metaphorically I guess that’s true. What we forget is everybody dealing with shit just like you.

The main thought in my world is I would end up dead. Cause that’s what everybody said. So to survive l learned not to take much advice.

We idealize these celebrities that killed themselves because because their art helped save our lives.

When you were holding on by a thread Neck Deep in the darkness.

What song did you listen to when you wanted to die?

What thoughts did you hold onto tight when you needed to stay alive?

Don’t ever look to the sky for me.

I write in front of you.

I’m right in front of you flawed like every human.

This world is full of false prophets that want you to pray TO them. I don’t care what you believe in just pray FOR me.

Their version of guidance is giving guns to kids who are still afraid of the dark. Lighting candles for the ones that we miss. I know that trauma is intense. I don’t set aside or dismiss. I’m just lucky bullets missed. Cause windows tinted rolled down them Boys was driving slow with a fully loaded clip. And everyone on that playground was saying ride or die and I got these words in my head saying I wish that you would live. I know how them colors ride. They took you to the crib put that pistol in your mouth and just let it flip your lid. And we don’t say no names cause the city where I’m from if the troublemakers die young we treat them unmarked graves.

And I’m still here but my second biggest problem is I don’t tell no one what I’m dealing with. I treat my therapy like a Do It Yourself Project.

View me like HGtv.

I built these cabinets and compartmentalize all this shit.

Lock and key on all my memories but they don’t fade. So I guess it ain’t safe.

Lock and key on all my memories but they don’t fade. So I guess it ain’t safe.

Rain go away come again another day. When I can deal with this flood of emotions being in my mental space. I know that’s not how the pain work. I stay away from the prescriptions because that’s not how I want my brain to work.

I look up at the sky and get lost in the possibilities of all Ive seen and know there will be stars I never touch but I can still wish upon them about my earthly dreams.

Some nights I drive around listening to music and I think about how the things I write has saved someone’s life. How what hasn’t worked out for me is beautiful to someone else. I get my strength in knowing the blog is where people go to when they need some help.

Some days I’m surviving other days I’m really living. When I lay my head down or wake up. At least I’m still breathing.

So tell me how your pain works.

I know my mom was dealing with it sometimes life just got to her. Existing was just too much to bear. I was a pre teen at the time it wasn’t much that I could understand. When it came existing, she didn’t want to be here. I know then she held on for me. So now I try to make sure she live better. To live not to exist there is such a difference.

She tells me the stories that got her to this point. They are all apart of her past so I can’t solve them but I can sit in them with her. Be part of her dirty mud. While tears and laughter turn it to the soil that is her garden. I’m not the perfect child but I’m empathetic in what it took for her to get us this far.

So let me know how your pain works.

Death comes for us all but I don’t want you inviting it over prematurely. The generation of kids that cut real close to their wrist because the world said they wanted attention. When they were going through some things that in the classrooms or on the playground they were afraid to mention.

I don’t care what you think of me. So that allows me to be honest with you. I look in the mirror everyday not concerned with my looks but more so to make sure I am being honest with myself.

So I want you to read everything like it’s you and me and I promise to write like this is a letter and no one else will read but you

Can you keep my secrets?

If out loud or in your head you said “Yes” then you’re exactly the type of person I need in my life.

Let’s not compare let’s just admit we both fucked up. We have some days that are better than others, they tried to tell us what to be in society and we still constantly trying to figure life out.

The world wants to put us in a box and we just trying not to jump off a cliff. They want us to play this role when we keep getting paper cuts that feel like knives so we can’t read the script.

I genuinely hope today is a good day for you and you are alright right now. I hope you apologize when you need to. I hope you hit up the people that you miss. I hope you are not too hard on yourself. I hope you don’t smile just because you know that’s what the world wants to see and you hide your pain well. I hope your vices come in moderation.

But just like you I’m not perfect.

I don’t pay enough attention on the daily basis to my mental health. This year I’m going to change that.

I’m not perfect so I take that back.

I’m going to TRY and change that.

I always give myself something to look forward to. I like to travel and take trips with my friends. Most days I rather be alone but that’s not how my life’s set up.

My personal idea of happiness is pretty simple, but their are other people in my life I want to take care of. So sometimes that makes it complex. I need to check in with myself more often to make sure if I am happy, content, or going through the motions. Because it’s crazy how fast a year goes by when you just do the day to day. I want to enjoy every phase of my life and right now I’m young.

I need to allow myself to feel pain.

I need to realize I can handle that pain and joy will come again.

I keep everyone and everything at a safe distance. I’m loyal to a fault and appreciation is one of the biggest things in the world to me. When you hold both of those attributes in high regard sometimes expectations backfire on you.

But everything needs to be a two way street.

Reality is hard sometimes. I wonder what it all really means.

When I started this blog it was simply for me. I was sitting in dark rooms with a million thoughts in my mind not able to sleep and I needed to put them somewhere. The best part of my manhood so far was writing down my faults. Reliving the violence and being there for people more. Writing down what is good about me. Exploring my peaks and adventuring through my valleys.

I still write for that reason but now I also do it to let others know they aren’t alone. Every emotion you are feeling someone else has felt. You are unique but that doesn’t mean you are by yourself.

On my good days I will sit in your shit with you. I answer every question and read every message.

Say “Depression is a bitch” as we both awkwardly try to laugh it off

On my bad days I just need music and to get through the mental obstacles of the day.

If you are who I think you are I’m sure you will understand this.

The people that know me can touch me. What’s even more dope is the ones that don’t can feel me.

I never wrote a suicide note but I did think about the words I would put in one.

How I wouldn’t have shit but pain and regrets to leave in my will.

For me I needed to change that.

Just like happiness, joy, bliss all those things we ideally want comes in waves so does anxiety, depression and gloom.

Someone I want in my life was dealing with anxiety so I researched it. I needed to reassure them that I wasn’t going anywhere. I had to apologize for making them think big or small there was anything they couldn’t come to me for.

Don’t worry about me, I want to be your peace.

I’m in my own world and I’ll give the whole world a piece of me

You can be in a room full friends who tell you they love you and want the best for you. And the thoughts will creep in. They will steal the optimism of that present moment. That anxiety will make you feel like you are on an island.

We are apart of a maze of a society. So it is human nature to want to be accepted. The longing for inclusion is manufactured in us.

Again I won’t pretend to know how you feel. I won’t silver-line it for you.

I will give you empathy and sit in it with you.

On my good days…

I will tell you with me I don’t need you to have it all figured out. I don’t need you to tell me you know exactly who you are because I don’t want you to lie to me. You are a beautiful mess, that doesn’t need to be cleaned up or put away in a closet because company is coming over.

I’m just happy we are both here together.

Now if we can be honest with each other. You have thought about your death. What would your suicide note have said?

Did you make it far enough to write it down? Did you actually attempt to take your own life? Do you still feel like you did at that time?

Who did you lose? And if you could have a moment back with them what what you say?

One time I was sitting with one of my favorite people in the world. She was reading an article I wrote talking about depression and she started crying in public right in front of me. She had lost a sister to suicide and I didn’t know that. In that moment I found out. I realized what words could do but it was one of many moments when I realized the power of human connection.

I want your mud to turn into soil. I want you to grow. I want everything and everyone around you to flourish. I will sit in the mud with you until you realize that you are nature.

Stay close to those that bring you peace. That you can give a piece of yourself to without feeling as if you’re falling apart.

What are you looking for in the mirror?

Who are you looking for in the mirror?

I know what I’m here for. It changes a lot. But if you ask me I will tell you.

The rules are; we in this together

So am I alone?

How does your pain work?

Tell me something about you…

One Comment Add yours

  1. SBD says:

    Very well done. More later…. Birthday dinner.

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