I’m trying to keep my head above water. I’m telling myself over and over that nothing in life that is worth having is ever easy (although considering the last thing I fought for walked out on me) it is becoming increasingly hard to maintain that view. The problem is I have lost my confidence. I feel ashamed of myself and my current state in this world. I am depressed and I know that I won’t get out of this until I buck up. I don’t know what to do though. I’m trying to go to school but that’s turning out to be far more difficult than I anticipated and it’s getting discouraging. I try to give myself pep talks before I head out to another interview. I can’t, I don’t feel confident.
This is the lowest I have felt since my fifth month in Federal Prison when it became increasing clearer that I wasn’t going to receive an early release. I remember sitting in the hole with my head in my hands wondering how much worse it could get. I spend most nights like that now. I try to distract myself with porn and cartoons, but they just annoy me now. I’m sick of porn (slightly) because I’m jealous of all the sex these people are being paid to perform! I’m getting pissed at the cartoons because I wish they were my ideas making millions. Of course there are those of you out there who would say, that nothing is going to happen unless you make it. Well you’re right and you’re wrong. I understand that action creates opportunity, and I am taking action I went on an interview today and I am spending the majority of my time trying to work out a solution to my financial dilemma in regards to my schooling. Yet, I know firsthand that many exciting things can come to those who wait. I know for a solid fact that sitting around often brings the ruckus (as it were) to you. I also realize that things like that came to me when I was younger, more handsome, and charismatic. I was also surrounded by a group.
I admire wrestlers like Ric Flair, because they were braggarts and boasters, yet their flaws were all too real, and not just in the sense of Ric’s real-life personal journey. I didn’t know anything about that until the autobiography in 2004 I believe. I mean I had read some interviews but nothing in depth. Anyway, he was flawed in the ring as well. He often cheated to win or in need of being rescued by his Horsemen. Ric Flair himself will admit he probably lost more matches than he won in his career, yet he is still recognized as the greatest of all time. On the microphone outside the ring he was a braggadocios, blow hard that couldn’t get enough of telling everyone just how much money he made and how many cars he had. I loved this; even as a kid I saw the juxtaposition. I knew that Ric Flair was only talking a big game and that to back it up he needed his boys. So as I grew up, no matter where I lived I surrounded myself with my own stable of homies to back me up and help me get into and out of trouble. Not saying that I can’t fight or hold my own, but there is strength in numbers and sometimes a man just needs some moral support, the simple fact of knowing that you’re boys will be there and have your back is all you need. With that said I know that my peeps are still out there all around from NYC, to WSNC, to the mutha-fukin’ A-Town. I know that they got mad love for me and if they were here in Oakland we would be running the streets unstoppable. I also know that the other side of the country is a long way away. I know that many years have passed and I am one of the few left standing without kids, or a wife. I know my boys are men now and have bills to pay and can’t follow me around getting into shit. That’s not what I want either. I’m passed that. It’s just the moral support you need sometimes. Like when your girl leaves you and you feel like the world is ending, your boys show up with a case of beer and you go to the Pink Pony and get a lap dance then you feel better. As it stands right now I don’t even know where a strip club even is in Oakland, and if I did I don’t like going by myself.
I know I’ll bounce back, like I said I’ve been here before. There have been many occasions I thought the world was ending and I was unsure how I was going to make it. But you pack up your shit and head to the Greyhound and when you step off the bus you feel a little better. I don’t particularly want to hop on a bus though. I would like to tough it out and try to make the most out of California. I’m still kicking myself for leaving New York when things didn’t go my way there. I have to break the cycle of running. I have to stand strong and endure the struggle. Sure I could go back to NC or Atlanta and be surrounded by my old crew. It would feel good and I would have the support I need, but in the long run what would I have gained. I would have merely retreated into my comfort zone and not learned a thing, other than to quit moving places for women. That lesson is going to be my next tattoo. I think it should say something like “Don’t do it” or “Let the bitch go” and have a picture of a chick waving from a car or bus.