When I was 15 I held my homeboy's cousin in my arms after he was shot and watched him take his last breath with tears in his eyes.




I was 18 with my boy leaving the Market Street Cinema whore house in SF and saw a tinted out Range Rover parked out front that some whores just jumped into
My slow ass ran up to the passenger side window and knocked on it looking inside them dark ass mafia tints.
Driver side door opens and clearly it was the pimp that got out flashin on us holding a mini-mac 10 with the handle wrapped in old ass duck tape
nikka was like āWe got a prollem?!ā
I was like nah nikka we good my bad king
Me and the homie dipped, hopped in the hatchback civic and mobbed back to Sac.
Goodtimes
Sometimes I wonder was I concussed and just hallucinated the whole thing. No injuries.I had a similar realization last year when i attempted to remember my great grand parents. Realized i had only met 3 out of 8 of them.Nothing physically but more so my conscience being but my son being born. We are all forgotten at some point in time and so too is my fate after I pass. To think once I pass Iāll only exist in my sons and maybe his kids memories if Iām blessed to see that. When theyāre gone so too am I


Hope it gets better.Been fighting Neuroendocrine tumor syndrome for the past seven years
Been in and out of remission