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A Miscellany 199
These Dark Thoughts

by: Flavius Maximus

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Crack!  I should have come to you sooner Instead I let these dark thoughts race around my head tellin me I'm better off dead. When truthfully, living is so much better. You said "the land of the living is so much better, especially when I'm around."

Imagine not hearing the sound of Buju Banton Drowning in a sea of sirens, gunshots Shouting, fighting, dancing, laughing, stabbing Kissing, barking, lighting up the landscape and this all before 8 in the morning.

And neighbors have the nerve to say that I'm too loud?

No, I'm too proud to turn my music down!

See, they woke me up out of this recurring dream I've been having.  Malcolm's grabbing the mic away from whoever happens to be the rapper of the day and begins to say what we're all thinking.

The crowd converges.

Lights start blinking.  And a fog descends upon the crowd.  The energy in the air is a thick clowd of electricity and excitement.  And one gets the feeling that something momentous is about to occur.  Just then: Yes sir.  Yes sir!

A loud, out of place voice disturbs the scene and the fog begins to stir.  And then the crowd dissipates. And... OKAY!  slaps me in the face.  What the fuck?!  Shit, I've lost the dream again.  It's 8:08 in the morning, So I reset my alarm to 9:09 and begin to drift off to the sound of little John scream again.

Now I'm too excited to go back to sleep, because I remember I will soon be awake to face another day of anticipation, trepidation and fear.  Fear of the unknown.  What will happen to me today? Will my home be broken again by the sounds of fighting?  What are they fighting for?  A better tomorrow?  A night's sleep untroubled by anger and sorrow?

No, they are fighting because someody called somebody a crackhead.  Crackhead?  Are you serious?  Do people still smoke crack?  Chauncey is furious!  " Who told you I smoke crack?  Did you sell me the crack?!  Did you see me smoking crack?  Did you sell me the crack, cuz I don't remember you selling me any -"CRACK!

What was that?  Oh.  Chauncey's bottle of moonshine just took a tumble down a couple flights of stairs.  Now do you see why I've been pulling out my hair?  Pretending I don't care.  When the truth is I picked the wrong time to stop smoking!  What?  No, not that!  Toking! Trees.  Traum. Tai. Choking cheeba, cannabis, coli.  Now I'm face to face with this dark reality.  So dark it makes me look like Terrance Howard.  I'm no coward.  I just like adventure.  Adventures in Wonderland.  Its a wonder how anyone lands in a place like this and retains his sanity.  I plead insanity.

I should have called you sooner.  You would have led me away from this madness and told me it would all be okay.  You would have let me crash for a while like the 7th day.  And given me a peaceful place to lay my head.

Here I lay, dreaming that I'm dead.  A spiritual warrior come to the end of his journey.  Breathing no more, fretting no more.  A sack of flesh and bones upon a gurney.  Damn I'm so stubborn. I...

CRACK!... What was that? Crack, crack, crack crack crack crack.  Flavi wake up!  OKAY!