Sunday, November 24, 2019

Newer Group

Not saying you don't matter. Not saying you are wrong. You're just new. You're a new group of poeple. You came later. Not first. You came later on.

Now, who wants to hear this? Who wants to hear, that they are "new". What does that mean? Does it mean they are flawed? Does it mean there are flaws in you? Does it mean you care? I think it means you are learning.

There is in all of us, The Lord. He Said That. "My Spirit Will Not Always Dwell With Men."

He Says That. But why do we feel we must manage what he said?

I don't know what he meant. Do You Know What he meant?

I don't know. I don't wanna know. I want to get right. With Christ. I want to Get Right With Christ.

But who am I? And why am I a follower? Well let me tell you why.

Many years ago I was in a car accident. I almost dies over a bridge. Or under a bridge. I was with my mother. We were driving home. Home from where we were, withich was the city of Compton. I was in the city of Compton visiting a friend over Ms. Carrigans house.

Ms. Carrigan had a daughter. Her name was Tenae. Tenae was a fine black woman. I was a child. I spoke to her as an adult. I still remember sitting in the seat across from her. I remembe rthe table was wooden. The chair I think was plastic. There w3as a bunk bed in the other room next to where I was sitting was the entrance. I the bed is where Tenae was playing and beating the h--- out of Festers Quest for regular nintendo.

I remember Tenae was like, from the fututure. She was so wise, what she was saying. She was like Morpheous. I think the chaacter was named after her mind. She was tight. Back in the day, da. 96.

This day, I was just playing outside. The Day looked especially gloomy. The hills which were tucked in the background seemed to match the heelm of some ship. I was on the way. But where, I thought. Where am I agoing. Am I going to die? I remember feeling, I felt this. It was slight, The way a kid would forgive. Ididn't think much of it and kept on playing outside.

My mother came to pick me up and it had started raining. It was like God Crying. I got in the car, and left. Not knowing if I was going to live. For real, as a kid. But little, though. It wasn't loud.

We drove on the freeway. I senesed my mother wasn't feeling well. She was depressed. She always was, round that time. Still is. Her attitude is down. My mother is the most down person I know. No one is downer than my mother. And bown the down way. Not the sick way.

She drove with a passion. She dorve as if abvandoning somthing. What is it, I thought. What is my mother letting go?

I see her panic. For the first time. I have never seen my mother panic. I never saw her worry. I never saw her discouraged. She was always form, and mad. But loving. She alwaysd loved her chiuld. There was nothing wrong with that. She was a fit mother. The best. She raided me with a light, plastic leaf fist. She didn't want to hurt me. She was as always calm on the road unless she was mad. This time, this second, I could she  the look on her face she lost control. Of something major. Of what, I thought. You havew me, Willie is there. You are ok, the child thinks. But wait - the car.

Suddenly, I hear a snap, like the tire. Something was wrong with the wheel. It was the wheel locking. The car spun out of control. We were spiiniung like a piunball on the overpass. We boom to the left, boom to the right. Boom, to the left again. The windows shatter out.  Blah - all the windows. Gone. I look up. I am not panicked. Then I act panicked, like in a movie. The child. I look in the mirror and see my face covered in blood. Now I scream.

Shhhh be quiet, my mother. We were supposed to die and we didn't. Now I gotta be quiet. My Mother. Moma told me to quiet and put her right hand over my body. She was willing to put her whole life for mine. But she only needed one arm. You are not all of your parents. That's what I had to realize. I amm not all of my parents. I'm only a fraction of my Dad. Only a portion of my mother. I'm not both of them entirely. I was one sperm, one egg. They had several.

I sit in the car a moment. In one minute or less, my mother motions me to get out of the car. She checks the windows. All blown out. She checks the traffic. Still coming, but quietly. Time had slowed down. It was quiet. This was the freeway. You would expect noise.

We, after looking both ways, dart across the freeway to the overpass. We walk up the hill to a phone booth. My mother was steps ahead of me and I was still minus steps. I was still from the car. I listened, but still hadn't got wow yet. Wow, we could have died. But we didn't.

So when you ask why I  am like that. When you ask why I just get back to worrk, no break. Why I don't like weaklness. It's because I almost died, man. I almost got killed on the freeway. I All these stories you hear. I could have been a story before the break. In 1996.

And people don't care. The reality.

My mother tells me " Come on". She holds my hand as we walk across the freeway. That day she learned that she really loved her son. That the past is over, and that she must start anew. I learned that it is ok to start anew. I didn't want to start over with Brenda, but she told me to. I have no choice. I still love her, but we could have died and I never met her at all. So that's not the point. The point is, I think were supposed to be together. I don't think these other people are telling the truth. They are fronting to get ahead. But playing games is not going to get it with her. She's more than a game. She's a learner, just like me. We like to learn in the mind. That is our pleasure. Enjoying the mind. That is why we are mated. I enjoy the ppleasure of learning. However, pleasure must be earned. There is no pleasure given. For pleasure is a choice. By God, who decides to tgrant you the senses to percieve.

I later was playing super mario that night, afternoon. I remember she called Willie to tell him what had happened. But because we didn't die, I hope he didn't get chewed out!

He didn't mean any harm. He just bought a car he could afford. I want to call it cheap, but that's wrong. He bought a car. He bought my mother another car, which he took back or something.

He was a good man. He was a jerk at tiomes. But I only knew that because he was good enough to take care of the bills. He paid the rent, bought food and paid the gas electric or whatever. He allowed me to go to school. He allowed me to have a life. To be a normal Kid. I thanked him, before he died.

She called him. He saw us that night. And business resumed as usual. On to being a kid, and having adventtures. You will hear more one day. Good night.

Lord.