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eros

those times that you remember and it just makes you feel

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When I was in the early years of elementary school I had a good friend whose life was much different than all of the other kids we played with. I didn't really notice it until I was 7 or so, but the difference was definately present. We were all from middle class families with healthy (in general) lifestyles. Our parents taught us important life lessons and shielded us from things that we were too young to see. He was from a dirt poor family with a tempermental alcoholic father whose frequent activity was beating his wife (my friend's mom). When the father was beating his wife it was my friends job to call the police so his mom wouldn't get hurt. A job that he unfortunately had to do on a semi-weekly basis. He wasn't shieled from the things that a 5, 6, or 7 year old shouldn't have to see, and his parents couldn't provide the lessons that he should have had.

One day his dad beat his mom to the point of hospitalization. When she got out of the hospital she took her boys and moved out of town. The father went to prison for it, got out, went back to prison (this time for repeated DWI's), then he got out again. He got out right about the time that my friend was moving back into town and we were starting the 8th grade. His mom had gotten a job and they were doing better. The father was wasting away - working odd jobs and drinking.

Some how through all of this my friend managed to keep a positive outlook. He played basketball in his free time and kept his grades in the high-B/low-A range. When he got into highschool he made the varsity basketball team, kept his grades up, and got a job to help his mom with the bills. Now in 12th grade, his mom is doing better. He no long has to help with the family income. He bought himself a car. He maintains a good GPA. He still plays basketball, and he is starting college next year.

I had forgotten how hard his life had been and how hard he has worked to get to where he is now. But then today, I was walking down the street and I saw him leaving work. His father was half-passed out drunk in front of the store. My friend's face turned from his ussual cheerful expression to one that was very morose. He started to help his father off of the ground and into the car. Then I remembered.

 

My friend really is my hero. He has done as well if not better with the shitty cards that he was dealt than I have with the cards of opportunity that I was given.

 

Nothing in here is really a complete thought, I just felt the need to write this down. Any one else ever have an experiance similar to this, where some thing or event had the ability to make you remember those things that you never should have forgotten?

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Guest 455

Damn,that sucks....back when I was growing up in Inglewood Ca I was exposed to tragic shit at a young age...There used to be a little grocery around the corner from where we lived...called Frank's Market(don't know if it still there)...anyways this kid worked there by the name of Kenny...he was total '83...the afro and pick-braces...I looked up to him like a big brother I never had...anyways,one day he got shot for not knowing the combination to safe during a robbery(I hope whoever shot him is fucking rotting in Hell)...our house was robbed 3 times before I was 12 years old-when I was 4 we got jacked on Christmas Eve-all the presents were stolen as typical household stuff....maybe that is why I refuse to "rack" shit....I don't need to get back at anyone-"Karma" is come around eventually.Fuck society.

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Guest willy.wonka

yes

 

fills my heart....

i had a really hard life...norfolk vaginia...the ghettos of norfolk...

i moved straight from hawaii and spoke with the hawaiian accent known as pidgen...speaking like that didnt fly by with my principal,teachers,kids,everybody...i used to get invited to play football[with a fucking soup can...no joke],just so they could all beat the shit out of me....i was 9 getting mobbed by teenagers...being held down by the neighborhood boys as parents,girls i thought were cute,my friends all watched me get my ass kicked and people on thier bikes "bunny hoppin" on my back..

it brings me to tears to be so happy to know i have soo much love in my heart...

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Guest RaiD

when i was in kindegarden i had a friend... a stickly little kid that always got picked on. as the years passed things just got worse and worse for him. i would try to help him get out of situations but i couldnt be there all the time. in my freshmen year he was in gym class and was getting bullied and naturally he tried to fight back so one of the bullys got a bat and broke his arm in three places. this kid had gone through his whole life like that he was always nice to everyone he knew. but that didnt matter because he read books was skinny a wore glasses. a year later i had to go to his funeral. he commitied suicide when he was 15 years old...

i miss you ripley.

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I can relate. When i was about 6 my family moved into one of the ghetto'er area's of alief in houston. Me and my older brother used to get beat up by the all the black kids all the time because we were white(half korean half white). I remember this one time tho, i got jumped by these two kids when i was riding my bike. One of them held me down and the other beat the shit out of me. That kinda shit went on for a couple years. I was with my dad drivin to the store and we got car jacked at gunpoint. Pretty shitty times. Its good to be out of the ghetto.

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ive experianced almost exactly what the first story was talking about...i live in a working class neighborhood and have been raised by hard working awsome loving parents...i met this kid in the third grade in detention and we instantly became best freinds...he lived in an apartment complex a few miles away and everyday i would ride my bike over there and chill...i noticed how different his life was and how he never seemed to notice...they were on wlefare and his father was constantly in trouble with the law due to his drug problems...with all this drama he still busted his ass in school...worked around the house and helped raised his little brother...all the while being a really awsome person and a great freind...through the years his troubles got worse and his whole family ended up being homeless for the better part of the year...my parents offered to put them up untill tyhey got back on thier feet but they declined because they didnt want any handouts...my freind is now in his senior year at rutgers university and will be getting his ba in two subjects...plus he is a dance instructer for 6 different schools...he busts his ass for his family (wifey and one newborn son) and will make an amazing father...ive learned more from him about life than i could ever imagine.

 

yeah i dont kow the point of this but its good to remember the important people in my life.

 

piece.

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Originally posted by j3di

ive experianced almost exactly what the first story was talking about...i live in a working class neighborhood and have been raised by hard working awsome loving parents...i met this kid in the third grade in detention and we instantly became best freinds...he lived in an apartment complex a few miles away and everyday i would ride my bike over there and chill...i noticed how different his life was and how he never seemed to notice...they were on wlefare and his father was constantly in trouble with the law due to his drug problems...with all this drama he still busted his ass in school...worked around the house and helped raised his little brother...all the while being a really awsome person and a great freind...through the years his troubles got worse and his whole family ended up being homeless for the better part of the year...my parents offered to put them up untill tyhey got back on thier feet but they declined because they didnt want any handouts...my freind is now in his senior year at rutgers university and will be getting his ba in two subjects...plus he is a dance instructer for 6 different schools...he busts his ass for his family (wifey and one newborn son) and will make an amazing father...ive learned more from him about life than i could ever imagine.

 

yeah i dont kow the point of this but its good to remember the important people in my life.

 

piece.

 

thats what I am talking about

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nice story man.

im surprised the guy turned out allright in the end.

that would totally ruin your self confidence so your friend must have major will power or soemthing

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i say...sticky?

 

Originally posted by RaiD

when i was in kindegarden i had a friend... a stickly little kid that always got picked on. as the years passed things just got worse and worse for him. i would try to help him get out of situations but i couldnt be there all the time. in my freshmen year he was in gym class and was getting bullied and naturally he tried to fight back so one of the bullys got a bat and broke his arm in three places. this kid had gone through his whole life like that he was always nice to everyone he knew. but that didnt matter because he read books was skinny a wore glasses. a year later i had to go to his funeral. he commitied suicide when he was 15 years old...

i miss you ripley.

 

RIP

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werd, when i was in kindergarten i used to get picked on, i got picked on everyday until about 7th grade when i got the nuts to stand up to people...sixth grade was not good to me either, i was picked on everyday, my family didnt have much money so i would wear the same shirt about 2 to 3 times a week, i got severely picked on and that's how i got involved with graffiti, i saw it as my outlet, there were times when the whole class would call out names to me, and go against me, they would cheer on the bully as he would call me names or attempt to beat me up, i never got beat up or anything but the humiliation of having about 30 kids pick on you everyday is still with me, i came from the barrios of arlington, arlandria to be exact in the big 703, so to be picked on for being me was very different, at about 8th grade i stopped giving a fuck and got involved mad with graff, to this day i still dont care if anybody says i suck or if they think im dope cuz what people say dont affect me, i grew up to hate society since my childhood blew ass, i dont know..suicide has also crossed my mind on numerous occasions but i dont want to be selfish towards my mother or anyother person that loves me, nowaday i have numerous friends but i still bear the scars of the humiliation, kids can be the cruelest creatures on earth....next to writers

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Originally posted by VANDALISTIKO

...kids can be the cruelest creatures on earth....next to writers

:lol:

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word vandalistik....the main reason i do graff is because im not totaly accepted by this fuckin society...im constantly picked on by white football jocks and rich people....ive had the urge severaly times to bring a gun to school and shoot someone because i would get so mad....ive had the urge to just kill myself or destroy sometimes...and then i saw graffiti.....now im part of a fuckin culture....where u can be an ugly dork whp wears teh same thing every day...but if your fuckin good, up, and crushing shit....you got instant respect

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Guest MR BOJANGLES
Originally posted by eros

When I was in the early years of elementary school I had a good friend whose life was much different than all of the other kids we played with. I didn't really notice it until I was 7 or so, but the difference was definately present. We were all from middle class families with healthy (in general) lifestyles. Our parents taught us important life lessons and shielded us from things that we were too young to see. He was from a dirt poor family with a tempermental alcoholic father whose frequent activity was beating his wife (my friend's mom). When the father was beating his wife it was my friends job to call the police so his mom wouldn't get hurt. A job that he unfortunately had to do on a semi-weekly basis. He wasn't shieled from the things that a 5, 6, or 7 year old shouldn't have to see, and his parents couldn't provide the lessons that he should have had.

One day his dad beat his mom to the point of hospitalization. When she got out of the hospital she took her boys and moved out of town. The father went to prison for it, got out, went back to prison (this time for repeated DWI's), then he got out again. He got out right about the time that my friend was moving back into town and we were starting the 8th grade. His mom had gotten a job and they were doing better. The father was wasting away - working odd jobs and drinking.

Some how through all of this my friend managed to keep a positive outlook. He played basketball in his free time and kept his grades in the high-B/low-A range. When he got into highschool he made the varsity basketball team, kept his grades up, and got a job to help his mom with the bills. Now in 12th grade, his mom is doing better. He no long has to help with the family income. He bought himself a car. He maintains a good GPA. He still plays basketball, and he is starting college next year.

I had forgotten how hard his life had been and how hard he has worked to get to where he is now. But then today, I was walking down the street and I saw him leaving work. His father was half-passed out drunk in front of the store. My friend's face turned from his ussual cheerful expression to one that was very morose. He started to help his father off of the ground and into the car. Then I remembered.

 

My friend really is my hero. He has done as well if not better with the shitty cards that he was dealt than I have with the cards of opportunity that I was given.

 

Nothing in here is really a complete thought, I just felt the need to write this down. Any one else ever have an experiance similar to this, where some thing or event had the ability to make you remember those things that you never should have forgotten?

thank you for sharing this...its very reminiscent of me -vs- my friends lives (me being on the low end)

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