Keeping up with the Jones'. That's how you say it out there.
Way back when my sister helped me create the blog we discussed the day it might turn into a non-profit. Years back we did inmate shout-outs. Ways to open it to inmates other than myself. Keeping families connected to their inmate. It became a pain in the ass. I was chasing down dudes to get them to write a shout-out because the larger portion of these men don't give a fuck about their family out there.
Prison got me clean and free from drugs. I thought perhaps I would give back to others like myself. Maybe one day open a clinic or a rehab center. And then life has come along and I think I'll keep it to me and my family.
In prison I'm know as the Hooligan. Years back I tattooed it across my chest. A week later some dude put it across his knuckles. Then I put my date of birth on my knuckles and a month later a dude 3 bunks down does the same thing.
Lately it seems younger and younger kids are coming to prison. They even have a mentor program. Like a big brother deal. These kids find someone they think is cool and they latch onto you. Most of them are from broken homes and never had a Dad. So they seek to fill a void.
So they follow me around. Tattoo my same tattoos on themselves. Tell people they know me and we're friends.
The rapper T.I. sings a song-You Don't Know Me. These dudes don't know me. Is God playing some trick on me? When they come around and bug me, put my ink on their body and say we're friends it pisses me off.
Now I have dudes who want to work out with me. I'm a lone wolf. If you come around me, I've been jaded to wonder what you want from me. Its innocent enough and all they want is to be around a cool dude. I suppose it's a compliment.
I made one kid. She doesn't answer my calls half the time and she breaks my heart. I don't need any more kids. I really wasn't cut out for that shit.
If the neighbor comes home driving the same family sedan you just bought, you would probably be pissed. What if their kids keep coming over because you cook better and you're cooler. I would go over and tell their folks to get cooler because I don't need their kids at my house.
Am I just a dick? Is God seriously trying to shape me different? Because right now I don't want to be followed around. I don't want you all standing around my bunk. I don't want you stealing my tattoo ideas either. Go get your own. A rehab center? I'm going to worry about staying clean myself.
I'm sorry that so many men make babies with women and then leave them. The woman raises the kid the best she can but there's no Dad to play that role. When you catch your first fish you want to brag to your Dad. You don't want your Mom baiting your hook either. A Dad should do that. A Dad should drive you to ball practice and play catch with you. On that note....
God bless the women who play both roles. The problem is that some women can't and so there's a void. Those are the kids coming to prison.
I'm an artist so I have some dude come stop me in the middle of some important shit I'm doing to show me a stick-figure he drew. I'm thinking it sucks and he should find a different hobby. Then that other person on the other shoulder speaks and I have to stop and give them some pointers. Tell them they're off to a nice start and pat them on the back.
Lately that's been a battle. I endure every day. I didn't ask God for patience. I know he would pull some crap like this. Is it because I'm ready to go home? I don't know. I'm not sure what the lesson is here.
Prison has attempted to harden my heart. I recognize it has, but I can quickly see it and fix it. Some days I push away people who really love me because I have other ideas. I don't mean to hurt anyone. Perhaps that's why I'm bombarded by people trying to soften the hard edges prison has painted on my life.
I challenge you to compliment someone today. If you see someone working really hard at something, even if it looks like shit, tell them they're doing a nice job. Even adults still need that pat on the back.
Much love to you, seriously...I mean that.
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