For some reason as of late, I've been thinking about the "Good ole days" a little too much.
I don't do well talking about my emotions, so I hope I can write them a little easier.
This is about one of my best friends.
I don't know exactly how well I can stretch the words, considering I don't really know where he is right now, well except behind bars.
"Gangsta's Paradise" was our favorite song in second grade, hence the title. It's amazing how when you are growing up, you never really understand the world. When you are young, you never really think about gangs, guns, drugs or anything like that. And you certainly never think that maybe one day you'll be surrounded by them.
Maybe my friend did, not really sure. I always thought maybe he looked at life a little too hard, but hey, I was just the side-kick.
I loved being the sidekick. It was what made me part of the popular crowd and the rest all at the same time. Without ever feeling pressure.
Either way, I guess I just wished I had been a better friend toward the end. So I could have been there when the shit started getting bad. I went my separate way, to living a normal life, which I don't regret, I just sorta miss the adventure.
I don't want to mention a name without a way of getting consent, but some may know who I'm talking about.
I love you, BKS, you're my brother, and right now, I'm sure you'd be calling that a party foul for saying I love a dude to the internet. But dammit, you know what I mean.
P.S. Amazing what a friendship can spawn from an observation made about the height of a gymnasium ceiling...
I feel a little better.
Thank you reader's for allowing me to get this off my chest.
I love you guys too
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment