"People gave names to things so they could tell stories about them,
goddam fairy tales about children who got out alive."
–SAM LIPSYTE, The Fun Parts
INNER CITY STORIES
I can say every single person in my family has been to jail and back. That's not something to be proud of; it’s a pattern I’ve got to break. Some people want or like to project an image that they're hard and claim they did this and that, but it's just made up trap stories about yourself. Everyone thinks it's all fun and games, until one day you're outside chilling on the porch and an innocent kid on the block playing hop scotch on the sidewalks get shot in the brain.
It's all fun and games until you see someone walking down the street and getting gunned down in a blink of an eye, their life taken away just like that by hot shells. It's all fun and games until you get caught by the cops and you can't afford a lawyer, so you getting life in jail for some fast money. I can't lie, fast money is enjoyable at first, but it won't last forever.
You don't know the feeling of adrenaline flowing through your body when you're holding that gun. It's in your hands, you have the power. Are you gonna shoot or not? Hold your breath steady, cock it back, aim at your target and pull the trigger. You can't hear anything but the sound of the last breath of that person grasping for air. The numb feeling you get when you see the look on that person’s face as their body drops to the hard ground. That person had a family, was once an innocent kid, was once someone's brother or son and now lies shot dead. Staring blankly at the ground, what's your next move? Run?
Now you're in the bathroom, the hot water running in the sink as you watch the blood on your hands flowing down the drain. Bagging up the gun and blood that stained your shoes and clothes, ready to throw it all in the trash. It's only going to be a couple of hours before they catch you.
What's your next move? Run? It's too late already, there's banging and kicking at your front door. Now there are red lasers aiming at your head. Cops screaming "Hands up!" Dropping down to your knees, your eyes looking up to the ceiling, begging and praying to God that you can take it all back. It's already done, you can't go back from that.
If you're not ready for the consequences that come with it, then why do it?
Are you ready to leave that warm house of yours for a cold cell? Are you ready to leave that comfortable bed of yours for a metal one? Are you ready to leave that good food for some shit they just throw on that plastic tray?
What I'm trying to say is, stay in your lane. The thing with everyone is they think they're hard and tough, until something actually goes down; that's when they turn to sheep. So continue to do what you're good at, whether it's school, sports, work, or a passion of yours, because if you're enjoying the freedom you have right now, I promise you, if you don’t stay in your lane, you won't last.