One of the most foolish, foolhardy things we can do as people is fall in love with someone we do not know. As much as people show us who they are through their actions, we tend to mitigate those negative actions with false ideals created by what that person tells us. It’s like a relationshipContinue reading “Falling Out of Love”
Last night, I saw two people die in a car accident. Their car hit a pole, splitting the hood in two. I opened the driver’s side door to see if I could help, but the interior was so mangled, I knew he was gone. I went around to the passenger side and saw a guyContinue reading “The Mortality of the Writer”
Drugs. Violence. Police brutality. Hate. Love. Love. Love. In 1995, if you would have read about the Robert Taylor projects, the news report would probably have headlined something like this: “17 Men Arrested in Drug Sting at Robert Taylor Homes.” But inside those forsaken buildings where no one but those who lived there would haveContinue reading “Our Own Sort of Fun”
As you’ll find if you read my blog thoroughly enough, I grew up in the Robert Taylor Projects on the Southside of Chicago. If you do any research, you’ll find it was not the ideal place to grow up, being overwhelmed with drugs and gang activity. But it is where I am from, and IContinue reading “Inspiration Comes from Everywhere”
Nearly three months ago, my third beautiful daughter was born. Her eyes are a color I have never seen before and I cannot name. I was hoping for my first son, but I’m blessed either way. The question is, where do I go from here?
One of my most devastating moments occurred when I was just twelve years old when I was hit by a car. I hardly ever talk about this, and I don’t know why. What I do know is that since that moment, I have always been aware of how life can change within just a matterContinue reading “Near Death Experience”
One of my most vivid memories of my life in Chicago’s Robert Taylor Projects is my friend Travis and me walking through a grassy field and finding a huge ZipLoc bag of crack cocaine. There had to be at least 300 rocks in there. Up until this point, I had seen plenty of crack transactions.Continue reading “I Am a Drug Dealer, Not So Much”
The bullet exploded. The heavy gun powder choked all of us.
There is an image seared into my brain of my sister running through the house screaming as she clutches her three-month-old dead baby. This image is so clear, I can pull it up and see everything exactly as it happened. The death of three-month-old Jennifer had a huge impact on my family. Since then, myContinue reading “She Died at Three Months Old”