By nature, I’m an idealist but I’m not far from reality either. I know healthy thinking is about being positive and whatnot. I know a lotta things and hope for a lot but reality sets in too. Life is a beautiful and ugly thing and I don’t care how positive folk are, that’s just a simple fact. It’s documented in the history books and we’re constantly making history. Good and bad. Case in point:
It’s a beautiful thing when you’ve got it going on. You know, you’re walking down the street with your girlfriends, boyfriends or what have you and all of a sudden, some dumb ass purposely drops a brick from a third floor window and knocks you the hell out. When you come to, you can’t remember anything, anybody or your own name. Two years down the road, you’re still fuzzy as shit and folk who knew and loved you best are real sick of you about now and saying behind your back “Such and Such know damn well she remembers us and I’m sick of her shit.” Hey, that’s the way life goes sometimes.
What makes matters worse, the dumb ass that dropped the brick is still out there dropping bricks. The police hasn’t been able to hunt him down. He becomes famously known as Mr Bricker on the world wide news ’cause this knucklehead’s gone international with his brick dropping ass. Now, why they call the brick dropper a Mister is what men folk around the bar and bowling alley wanna know but that don’t matter too much to my story here. I had to throw that in ’cause there’s always side talk at the barber and beauty shop.
Anyhow, some folk die beautiful and sadly, some die ugly. There’s hope if you want it but only if you really want and work toward what you’re hoping for. Quite often, I’ve had the notion to wanna take the backside of my hand and land it on somebody’s mouth and I hoped real hard I didn’t so it didn’t happen. I’ve also bit my tongue from telling folk off ’cause although I speak on the rough side, I wouldn’t want folk to say the shit that goes on in my head to me. Plus, some of what I think is for my own entertainment only.
It’s a real shame that folk die ugly. And a pity that beautiful folk die at all. I said all that to say not a whole lot, I reckon. Folk are gonna be whoever and however they are no matter what, which says a lot and nothing at all, if that makes any sense.