There is a graveyard that lives by me. I never stepped foot inside it or any graveyard ever but, I always do manage to catch a glimpse of it any time I pass by. All of those bodies laying there in a row for years, and years, and years. Gone, rotten, decaying, skinless, brainless, maggot hotel infested, etc. Just “resting” deeply in the dirt as family members, friends, associates, etc would and will come by and visit them. I see flowers rustling the wind that have been left for the dead, while others remain naked and untouched as if their whole family was either gone, unable to visit, or, simply didn’t care to waste a drip of gas to stop by and say a few words. These people once had lives. Bad or good nonetheless, they still had lives, experiences, joys, disappoints, love, heartbreak, etc. But now, they were simply reduced to skeletons and afterthoughts. And sooner than later, forgotten except for when goth kids or people pass by to host a Halloween event or party. The dead would then become simple decorations for the entertainment of the living. Once a person than reduced to a trigger point for excitement for others need to escape the reality they dead once walked the same path on.
When I think about this I start to think about my parents and myself. Not so much about their death despite that fact that I will have to deal with that hopefully way, way down the road, but more so in the sense of them giving up their life for mine. I remember a conversation in which my mother told me the reason her and my father even got married was for me and only me. Granted, they had feelings for each other as she told me but, at the same time she didn’t want to go much further I believe. Or, at least what I gather from conversations with her. There was also a wedding tape that has been lost from our family, in which while walking down the aisle she was crying tears of anger. Not of joy, happiness, or fulfillment but, more so, anger and sadness. They got married for me because back then it was the “right thing to do”. Now babies are shot out of a woman with much ease and less guilt due to her right to chose, but back then it was different. Both of these people gave up their lives for me. Me. A kid who had no path planed out for him. I was just another person born in this world taking up more air. I was not guaranteed anything special. There was no calling or, vision for me. I was simply born here. I was something made as natural as pissing, shitting, eating, blinking, and of course sleeping and fucking. They both had a kid and later on another one just because of the connection they felt. Not because of some bigger plan in the world.
My mother and father could of had other plans in the making that they wanted to accomplished. Maybe my father wanted to continue doing something in the music business. Maybe a record producer or, even a rapper. He was a DJ back in the day and I remember his big green crate of music. All different kinds from Tupac, Redman, Vanilla Ice, Sade, Color Me Bad, Madonna, etc. Maybe he could of done more had I not come around. Maybe he was meant for me and. me coming along threw a monkey wrench in his plans. My mother could of been the same way. She never really talked about her specific hobbies but, again, who knows. There could of been something more out there for her. Something more, fun and exciting instead of staying at home, working, dealing with a decaying marriage, and raising a kid that enjoyed sitting in his underwear in front of the TV watching rap videos over, and over again. These people that gave their lives up for me could of had paths that would o helped society becoming more better or a lot more accessible. Nobody knew Martin Luther King or Malcolm X would become what they became at the young age of 3. Hell, Malcolm used to be a drug fiend and thief back in his day. A couple more wrong moves and he would of been another black man caught up in the rat race of life. Nobody knew Shawn Carter when he was 3 years old would become one of (If the THE greatest to some) best rappers and, also great business alive today that has helped pushed a culture pass the limitations that once plagued other MCs before him. Nobody knew what these men would become back when they were young and had no grasp of abstract thought. It was just as random as it was for I.
My point being is, looking at life and the reasons for this blog and, the reason in my opinion of why others do what they do as far as trying to achieve greater things and accomplishments beyond themselves is, without them realizing it in my opinion simply put, is because they want to keep the lights on as long as they can after they fade out. I shouldn’t speak for others lives I have to basis to but, in my understanding and alternative view on the world, I truly believe as we get older our mortality starts to become more and more clear. Things were grew up on as far as electronics, fashion, movies, movie stars, family, etc starts to change. What was once cool is now seen as old and something to marvel at. Like this video here which shows young kids reaction to a kids show that was once the greatest thing in the world to my generation is now seen as something for a barbaric caveman time. As the path of life marches on towards the same ending, I find myself not really looking just to make money. Granted, it is a motivational tool but, I now see myself trying to leave my mark behind after it is all done. I find myself as well as I believe others are too, trying to let the world know that they were here like caveman paintings before us. I find myself facing a greater fear than any Freddy Kruger, Chucky, or Jason can conjure up in their heads. A fear that I never even comprehended about when I was young and full of more ignorance than the average modern day rapper can expose to the world. I now face a fear that no amount of conversation with others or, drugs, alcohol, Netflix, and books can fix to try and help me escape from this thought and very possible action. I find myself afraid of being, forgotten as if I never existed in this world.
Society wants you to go to school, get a job, have a family, raise them, go through more downs than up in a marriage, then get old and move the hell out of the way so the next generation of suckers can follow the same path and keep the money flowing. The script is already laid out for us and we chase it everyday. We chase the money, fame, power, status, etc but, how concrete will it be? How, much influence will it leave for mankind and the kids of its future? Sure, I can maybe be in a movie or, write a hot song one day but, will its impact last forever? How many movies will come after I am no longer here? How many songs will come that will surpass my simple one hit wonder? Why am I even thinking I will make a hit song or even be in a movie? Who am I to even believe I will be in that environment when their are others struggling fighting tooth and nail trying to simply become a extra or, just a A&R in the music business, while I am sitting here writing on a blog instead of taking acting lessons or trying to craft a song on a beat. With this said what if everything I am doing now will mean nothing once I hit the dirt and years pass by. My peer group is the same age and will die out (Hopefully) the same time I will. After they go, will others visit my grave that never knew me? How silly am I to even believe they will if I never leave my mark on the world. Sure, a easy answer could be to say “Just have kids” but, am I just doing that to help society, or am I doing that for my own ego?
Apologies for the constant questions but, like I addressed in my first post here, what exactly am I chasing after? I don’t want to be here JUST to survive. Egotistical as this may sound, I want to leave my mark on this place instead of my history being seen as a bread crumb on the plate of life. I am not here for green pieces of paper that is not exclusive to just me. I am not here for brand new iPhones and fashion trends that are not exclusive to me. And I am not here to just become steps for the people in power above to walk more towards control and strength. It is not exclusive to me. I see cars passing me by each and every day and I know each person in that car has their own story they are living . I see faces pass by for a glimpse and I know I will never see them again. Its a odd feeling to have because, I know when they see me as we make eye contact for 3 seconds that they can care less about me as I do them. I am fighting against memories and experiences as they are with me in that brief moment in time. Both sides have no chance at winning. I want more than that. I seek greatness as I am sure everybody else is. I don’t want to feel like my family regrets taking trip to the local CVS that night to snatch a condom. I want them and others around me to sense I am here now, and after I am gone. When they pass my grave I want others to stop and just have a thought. Whether good or bad, I want a legacy. Never let this world force you to be another worker bee.