"mike, i wish i could think like you. but i'm a realist. that's why i..."
after the why comes a lot of different things.
well, big homies all across the globe. i dig.
like a shovel.
i'm a realist too.
i realize that at any given time.
any moment.
i could die.
my pops died before people thought he should. i got to read at his funeral. 56.
my homeboy ty too. the refrain was he died before his time. his momma calls us "his gilman brothers." and cries right after. 27.
my cousin little jesse the same. killed by the police. he made "chips" out of crumbled up ramen and the flavor pack. 32.
my homeboy chris joined the club. his momma asked me
"why did you let this happen to my son?" 23.
if the desire not to die kept people alive, then my pops would meet my wife, we would still be wrapping presents for jack daniels at chris's mommas house, and i would have been first in line at ty's book signing.
then i realized that you don't live as long as you want to. or other people want you to. you live as long as time you got left. nobody but god can read that meter. and no coin can get you extra time.
the best i can do listen to the voice in my heart, and go after my dreams with all i got. notice every beautiful everything this world has to offer, even the everythings that makes my heart hurt. love gut laughs. remember when they leave, but never curse the absence. love.
till god takes me off of here.
and when i meet him, hopefully he'll smile at me as i smile at him.
accept death as apart of life.
then live.
