This post will consist of me both revisiting and revising my earlier entry 'Composing a Past Scene'. After completing the prior story I have decided to follow-up with some crucial pieces of the story that were glaringly absent. Some text has also slightly been touched up to be more accurate to the dialogue that really took place.
In today's blog post I compose a scene taken from a moment in my past that had a drastic impact on my life. To get a grasp on how this is properly done I listened to the podcast, What You Don't Know by Lulu Wang). “Shut the fck up, alright?” I hear the words being said to me, but as I listen to them leave the mouth of the little midget in front of me I give myself time to pause and let it register. Is this really being said? I thought we were just playing a game of basketball but ever since I took the lead things have gotten way out of hand. Being the same age as this kid I don’t really have the right to rip on his height, but with us being the same age he was still somehow smaller. I’m here holding the ball, an orange sphere lined with black and a team logo designed at the top. Spinning it every now and then as insult after insult comes to mind. It’s the year 2004 and today I, a friend and his visiting relative were supposed to be having a good time down in the public basketball court this afternoon. It was pretty sunny, and the breeze gave you the nicest blast of air when your body was overheating from all the movement. The court itself is divided into two parts all surrounded by a green cage and separated down the middle to create two sides. With the flooring colored a more darker green. Both sides of the cage being full sized for two separate groups to play at the same time, and usually both are taken up right away. The grown-ups always laid claim but today it was empty. It finally gave us kids a chance to see what an actual court was like instead of some kiddie little stand set-up in the driveway. All in all, today, like I said before, was supposed to be a good day. Instead I’m being sht talked by someone shorter than me because he wanted to call a foul due to a shot I made over his head. He says I elbowed him on the way up but I know for a fact that wasn’t true. But every time I try to argue he ups his disrespectful ante. Now I get that we don’t know each other and sometimes smack talk happens but something about his vibe is rubbing me the wrong way. I’m looking over to my friend of two years by now, Brian, waiting for him to intervene as his relative continues to berate me. If they weren’t related I would have already let my arrogance loose. But I’m not gonna do that to someone who my friend rarely got to see. “Whatever nigga, I didn’t elbow you. Maybe you should watch yourself when playing someone taller? Every time you try to block me it feels like a fly is getting in my way.” Now what I had said obviously got under the boy’s skin. Because now he was exposing that damage by removing his shirt as some show of power. I always hated how people did that. The last thing I need to see is some shirtless elf trying to call himself bossing up on me. It’s embarrassing for everyone here. Instead of saying anything further I rolled my eyes as I used the ball as s source of ventilation for my anger. I clinched it tightly with my fingers while tapping against its surface with my thumbs. “Say something else, nigga, and I PROMISE I’ll slap your sht.” Now that really got me irritated. The moment the word ‘slap’ was aimed at me I immediately looked in Brian’s direction. Except now I notice he too is just standing there looking at the both of us with his shirt slung over his shoulder. “Are you serious dude? You gonna let him talk to me like that?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about man.” “What is going on, did I do something to you? You’re not acting like yourself at all.” “That’s a lie. I am myself all the time, this right here IS the real me.” After he said that to me I was just stuck standing there with my mouth gaped open in surprise. This always happened. I should have known better than to come out here and be apart of this. Whenever I was around someone I called a, “friend” and their relatives were present they always changed on me. Or as we call it, “flipped the script”. They would show off more, act all big and disregard anything that was said if it wasn’t coming from their own blood. It always confused me because I hung out with my own siblings around other people all the time. But I never felt the need to act any different. I been down this road before and at this point, I’m just tired of traveling it. So with a slanted eye I darted my irises between the both of them before admiring the ball one last time. Spinning it around to admire the design. Then I beamed the ball into Brian’s hands. He caught it but I could tell by the wince in his eye that it definitely hurt his wrist in doing so, and that brought me satisfaction. So, I decided to leave the court and as I was walking away I only said these few words. “Well if this is the real you I never knew you then, so have fun.” And I was gone. As I walked to my house that day I was tossing a decision back and forth in my head while each foot passed over the other. Should I still talk to him or would it just be a waste of time? How many times would I let this happen to myself before I realized how much it hurt? But we were friends for two years now and he’s the only person left in the neighborhood who’s cool with me. Now did that mean I would have to let myself get steamrolled by the same scenario over and over? Nah, not a chance. So today was gonna be the last day me and him ever spoke. Now a few days after that my mother would come pass my room and tell me that Brian had stopped by, but after that day I wasn’t to interested in hearing what he had say. Until one day he finally walked up on me whilst I was sitting on a brick construct that had a full view of the whole block I lived on, looking up at the clouds. The moment was kind of surreal because that was how we met. He was sitting where I am now and he was upset because he had lost his ball. I was the one who found and returned it to him. We started hanging out every day after. You see, he was the new kid on the block at the time and didn’t know anyone. I knew how that felt. Funny thing is, that was the very same ball we had been playing with the same day I decided not to speak to him anymore. “Hey man..” his voice was low, carrying his words with a sense of regret. He took a seat next to me and I was half tempted to leave, but I didn’t. “Back to being yourself yet..?” I asked bluntly. Not even looking in his direction as I addressed him. His answer would set the tone for how long this conversation would last and if it was gonna be friendly at all. “Look man I’m sorry about the way I was acting, I don’t know what came over me bro.” and the apology comes out. I had to admit, I was shocked. “Is that gonna happen every time, bro? I always told you how I hated that stuff and then you did it.” “There won’t be a next time..” And then I paused. He comes over to apologize, and here I am ready to mend the friendship. But the way he said that is just hanging in the air. Was that him agreeing with me or was he talking about something else? “What..?” “I’m moving. I just wanted to say sorry before me and my family left.” Again, like before I was thrown off. By the time he finds me to apologize he’s also telling me he’s moving away? Why come and find me? Why leave me on this note? I was so confused and angry. More than anything I was hurt. It had been more than three weeks we had stopped talking at that point, and it was mostly my fault. All that time I had wasted trying to prove how I didn’t need anyone and now one of the only friends I had left is leaving me. I didn’t know how to feel then and sometimes I still think about it now. Not spending the time we had left because I was too angry will always be something I regret. Now let me go into detail of how things escalated the way they did. During my younger years, I'd say from age 5 to 10, I'd have had many people call me a friend but all I really was, was a convenience. Those same people would always abandon me when someone more preferable came around and when playing with those who they actually hung around, would leave me high to dry. No invites or even being told I wasn't included when I figured I was. Living a different life due to my faith led people to believe I thought I was better than them because I acted and spoke differently. Because I wasn't really into being a 'bad kid' I was also considered boring and annoying. But when they were in-fact bored they would come around me for entertainment and me being desperate I would gladly accept them. But the entertainment would usually end up with me being picked on for laughs. Or even having things taken from me just to see my reaction and then have those things broken or tossed on rooftops. I was a lonely kid who had no REAL friends until I had ran into Brian, and a lot of times I'd tell him about these things because he would ask me after seeing some of it first hand. So when he did this I guess I blew a casket. Maybe within good reason, maybe not. This occurrence didn't just teach me 'one' thing, but a whole lot more than I bargained for.
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In today's blog post I compose a scene taken from a moment in my past that had a drastic impact on my life. To get a grasp on how this is properly done I listened to the podcast, What You Don't Know by Lulu Wang). “Shut the fck up, okay?” I hear the words being said to me, but as I listen to them leave the mouth of the little midget in front of me I give myself time to pause and let it register. Is this really being said? I thought we were just playing a game of basketball but ever since I took the lead things have gotten way out of hand. Being the same age as this kid I don’t really have the right to rip on his height, but with us being the same age he was still somehow smaller. I’m here holding the ball, an orange sphere lined with black and a team logo designed at the top. Spinning it every now and then as insult after insult comes to mind. It’s the year 2004 and today I, a friend and his visiting relative were supposed to be having a good time down in the public basketball court this afternoon. It was pretty sunny, and the breeze gave you the nicest blast of air when your body was overheating from all the movement. The court itself is divided into two parts all surrounded by a green cage and separated down the middle to create two sides. With the flooring colored a more darker green. Both sides of the cage being full sized for two separate groups to play at the same time, and usually both are taken up right away. The grown-ups always laid claim but today it was empty. It finally gave us kids a chance to see what an actual court was like instead of some kiddie little stand set-up in the driveway. All in all, today, like I said before, was supposed to be a good day. Instead I’m being sht talked by someone shorter than me because he wanted to call a foul due to a shot I made over his head. He says I elbowed him on the way up but I know for a fact that wasn’t true. But every time I try to argue he ups his disrespectful ante. Now I get that we don’t know each other and sometimes smack talk happens but something about his vibe is rubbing me the wrong way. I’m looking over to my friend of two years by now, Brian, waiting for him to intervene as his relative continues to berate me. If they weren’t related I would have already let my arrogance loose. But I’m not gonna do that to someone who my friend rarely got to see. “Whatever dude, I didn’t elbow you. Maybe you should watch yourself when playing someone taller? Every time you try to block me it feels like a fly is getting in my way.” Now what I had said obviously got under the boy’s skin. Because now he was exposing that damage by removing his shirt as some show of power. I always hated how people did that. The last thing I need to see is some shirtless elf trying to call himself bossing up on me. It’s embarrassing for everyone here. Instead of saying anything further I rolled my eyes as I used the ball as s source of ventilation for my anger. I clinched it tightly with my fingers while tapping against its surface with my thumbs. “Say something else and I PROMISE you I’ll slap you.” Now that really got me irritated. The moment the word ‘slap’ was aimed at me I immediately looked in Brian’s direction. Except now I notice he too is just standing there looking at the both of us with his shirt slung over his shoulder. “Are you serious dude? You gonna let him talk to me like that?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about man.” “What is going on, did I do something to you? You’re not acting like yourself at all.” “That’s a lie. I am myself all the time, this right here IS the real me.” After he said that to me I was just stuck standing there with my mouth gaped open in surprise. This always happened. I should have known better than to come out here and be apart of this. Whenever I was around someone I called a, “friend” and their relatives were present they always changed on me. Or as we call it, “flipped the script”. They would show off more, act all big and disregard anything that was said if it wasn’t coming from their own blood. It always confused me because I hung out with my own siblings around other people all the time. But I never felt the need to act any different. I been down this road before and at this point, I’m just tired of traveling it. So with a slanted eye I darted my irises between the both of them before admiring the ball one last time. Spinning it around to admire the design. Then I beamed the ball into Brian’s hands. He caught it but I could tell by the wince in his eye that it definitely hurt his wrist in doing so, and that brought me satisfaction. So, I decided to leave the court and as I was walking away I only said these few words. “Well if this is the real you I never knew you then, so have fun.” And I was gone. As I walked to my house that day I was tossing a decision back and forth in my head while each foot passed over the other. Should I still talk to him or would it just be a waste of time? How many times would I let this happen to myself before I realized how much it hurt? But we were friends for two years now and he’s the only person left in the neighborhood who’s cool with me. Now did that mean I would have to let myself get steamrolled by the same scenario over and over? Nah, not a chance. So today was gonna be the last day me and him ever spoke. Now a few days after that my mother would come pass my room and tell me that Brian had stopped by, but after that day I wasn’t to interested in hearing what he had say. Until one day he finally walked up on me whilst I was sitting on a brick construct that had a full view of the whole block I lived on, looking up at the clouds. The moment was kind of surreal because that was how we met. He was sitting where I am now and he was upset because he had lost his ball. I was the one who found and returned it to him. We started hanging out every day after. You see, he was the new kid on the block at the time and didn’t know anyone. I knew how that felt. Funny thing is, that was the very same ball we had been playing with the same day I decided not to speak to him anymore. “Hey man..” his voice was low, carrying his words with a sense of regret. He took a seat next to me and I was half tempted to leave, but I didn’t. “Back to being yourself yet..?” I asked bluntly. Not even looking in his direction as I addressed him. His answer would set the tone for how long this conversation would last and if it was gonna be friendly at all. “Look man I’m sorry about the way I was acting, I don’t know what came over me bro.” and the apology comes out. I had to admit, I was shocked. “Is that gonna happen every time, bro? I always told you how I hated that stuff and then you did it.” “There won’t be a next time..” And then I paused. He comes over to apologize, and I’m finally ready to mend the friendship. Then he says there won’t be a next time? What does he mean? “What..?” “I’m moving. I just wanted to say sorry before me and my family left.” Again, like before I was thrown off. By the time he finds me to apologize he’s also telling me he’s moving away? Why come and find me? Why leave me on this note? I was so confused and angry. More than anything I was hurt. It had been more than three weeks we had stopped talking at that point, and it was mostly my fault. All that time I had wasted trying to prove how I didn’t need anyone and now one of the only friends I had left is leaving me. I didn’t know how to feel then and sometimes I still think about it now. Not spending the time we had left because I was too angry will always be something I regret.
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QaadirOn this site, I plan to express myself. So feel free to read the stampede of text, but never get the idea my blog's the best. Archives
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