Everyone is Full of Shit

2003-09-19 8:50 a.m.
Phew, nice dreams including someone i met at the bar the other day and a friend of a friend. I really need to start writing romance... Can anybody reccommend some inspiration? I guess I should go to school for writing or something sooner or later, but school and my psyche don't meld well...

Long story if you've got the time...

It started in 6th or seventh grade... age of 11 or 12 or so. I had a good friend named D. back then. I met him by getting my ass whooped. He respected me as even after a couple solid slayings, tears or not, I kept coming back. I made the story more dramatic back then, involving a gun and some cool movi-esque lines, but in all honesty, he beat me to a pulp twice and I never backed down and we became tight.

So back then, I moved around a lot and made friends everywhere, but my understanding of things was a bit twisted compared to everyone else. I had no idea why some of my neighborhoods were mostly black, some all white, some very poor, some very rich, some all spanish. Capitalism and segregation are pretty foreign concepts at a young age. And Chicago is full of, made up by even, segregation. Nothing like you stay on that side of the street, i stay on this side - more of an our neighborhood and theirs.

Well, I'd moved in and out of both and made friends of every background in all of them. Now After D. and I got tight, I ended up staying with him and his uncle for a few days during a move. (his uncle was essentially his father - never asked). Now he wasn't too happy with my presence as he didn't trust white folk. As in not black - (mexican = white). But he saw that D. had a good amount of respect for me and that I was neive but a good listener. So he sat me down and broke the world down for me.

It's not that I didn't want to know, it's that I'd never had the chance. At the time, our history books had about a paragraph or two about slavery, and a couple pages about Africa. So here's this old black man with the soursweet smell of whiskey eminating, with some stories that changed me eternally. Slavery, Rosa Parks, Kings and Queens of Africa, The segregation of Chicago, the projects of Chicago, and just stories upon stories about the way the world worked between black and not black.

I let this simmer for about a week. I was lost. As this man seems honest and sincere. He brought D. up well enough to be my mentor (D. was about 14 or 15 at the time). But the rest of the world was telling me these were all minimal and to be forgotten (not my mom, she left it open for me).

I sat in my history classes and religion classes with a new light, but wasn't sure if I should let it show. Every day I began to wonder if I was getting the whole story. Had this teacher, or this book been holding things back? And what about the next one, and the one after that. I started noticing that half the jokes everyone laughed at, that I never really understood but laughed at as to fit in or whatever were pretty fucking mean racially. Probably told to these kids by their 'white' fathers brought up in the same way.

I'd gone from an a-b student to a a-d student instantly. A's in the arts and D's in History. The schools were full of shit, and I wasn't having it.

So fast forward a couple years to eighth grade with about 2 months left til graduation and a couple questions...

I'd grown up in a private school as I got the boot from my public school after Kintergarden for teaching my peers about sex (think i wrote about that around here somewhere). Also, since we moved around a lot (about once every year and a half) I needed to be in one school in order to have a good base. So my grandmother was 2 blocks from this one. She watched me after school every day, mom picked me up after work, etc, etc. So it worked out.

So after about 2 years of questioning authority and teachers, it hadn't occurred to me to question religion. I mean my grandmother had a 3D jesus on her wall and my other grandmother (mom's) prayed every day. How could my grandmothers' be off?!

But nonetheless, we had some strange confession thing as were were getting ready to take on the world or whatever. So I sat with the pastor and started to ask him about shit. What's after death? Why is Jesus such a big deal? Where do I go to find the answers? Why are wrongs righted right away, while many are sent to prison for the same wrongs?

His answer (in short):

Believe.

Fucking history class again.

So in my freshman year in high school, I was a bit out of place. It was one of the best high schools in the midwest, and everybody just seemed like a bunch of preppy fucks. So I got to reading. The Koran, the Torah, the Bible again, asking questions about Buddhism, Zen, Existentialism, etc, etc. What did I find?

I found the most important things anyone can take into anything. These lessons come to use every day of my life. I was so incredibly lucky to learn them early (learn as in understand - not memorize) .

Nobody has any idea.

and hence...

Everyone is full of shit.

Forget everything you've learned that is not based on hard evidence, and pay attention to this logic, and you will do well in everything. Conversations, speeches, job interviews, etc. It's taught me teh greatest of confidence. For ignorance can become low self esteem. But when you know that nobody REALLY knows? Then you're word is as good as anyone's. Regardless of status, background, race, economic standing, etc. It's taught me to be honest, and it's brought me to surrounding myself with great liars. As the best liars know that lying is mostly unnecessary, but do it very well when it is.

Enought of that bullshit. I met up with M. to talk some business and some personal. (M. is a very well known web developer) He said he'll probably toss me a couple jobs when I get back, and he gave us a joint, which proceeded to put us on our ass. Mostly because it was that shit that gets you all tired and lazy.

He had to do dinner with his girl and had a flight out on Monday. He felt bad, so directed us to a bar that he figred would suit our interests. A great lil bar with a pool table that lets you smoke. G. and I were the happiest men on the planet. After a few beers and a few rounds of pool, we headed to the suburbs and crashed out early. But on the way....

G. Alright, you run in and grab a couple slices and I'll go around the block to grab you.

Me. Aiight. (walking in)... Lemme get ah.. 2 slices of pepperoni.

Pizza Guy #1: $5

Me. Here ya go...

Pizza Guy #2: (walking in with a pizza) The guy wasn't there (some general chatter between the two

My Stomach: (growl)

Pizza Guy #2: Ay tall guy, you wanna buy a pizza?

Me. How much?

Pizza Guy #2: $5

Me. What kind?

Pizza Guy #2: Medium Pepperoni.

Me. Hell yes.

Pizza Guy #1: Here's your change. You don't want these two slices right?

Me. Nope. You guys are the shit, thank's!! Have a great night! (waiting about 20 seconds for G. to pull up) You wouldn't believe how shit just went down...

It was a minor moment but it made my entire night. twice as much pizza, same price, all within about 75 seconds time. Just a nice lil unexpected surprise to make the trip that much better.

Have a good weekend y'all.