Wednesday, February 24, 2010


(Sometimes Brooklyn, Mostly Mars)

Part 2 : Drunk and Wasted

I’m drunk and wasted off of pain and I’m almost sure that that’s what keeps me insane. And it’s not just my own. So many people have poured their problems and woes in my glass that now I’m always drunk and wasted. I’m so far gone that I hardly ever look at the ground. Their pain is so real that I can taste it. I can’t put it down. It occupies so much of my time that I need an intervention. This wine of woes is deadly and it keeps me tipsy.
Over one thousand bottles of beer on my wall and each one represents a person that I’ve known. They just passed by and I only knew them for a moment. The dregs at the bottom of every bottle is every tear-stained sob story, tale of misfortune or tragedy I’ve ever known. Those beer bottles are just the people who only spent a blink of an eye in my life. Still, somehow the empty bottles found homes on my wall. I needed a bigger spot because I was running out of space over at my place. So, I write these stories and that’s become the Gully God’s Bar. So, you can hop up on a stool, or even reserve a VIP table if you’re able, drink until you’re nice while you turn the pages. So, on a light night I sip beer too but most of the times I guzzle stronger liquor.
My parents’ pain burns my chest to this day like Jamaican over-proof white rum, straight with no chaser. Both of their childhood stories, histories and memories were enough to keep me staggering sideways and then some. It’s been like that since I was born because it had a direct affect on them and governed their co-existence. But, I’m a grown man now so I’ve managed to maintain and my tolerance is higher. Mercifully, I haven’t experienced the hangover because I haven’t gotten to the day after yet.
I probably take on other’s people’s headaches more than I’m supposed to but I don’t believe in turning my back on the ones that I’m close to. Sometimes, we just toast and toss back a shot but there are times when we dead the whole bottle. All we have is each other because where we’re from, we don’t have real role models. If somebody makes it, it’s only a matter of time before they fall flat on their face so we’ve all agreed that to chase them is a waste. It’s the pain that we share that keeps some of us crazy. Our worlds spin out of control until we’re sick. Eventually we throw it all up and disgust the world when they see our guts all over their streets. That would explain so much of this misery I see and the pounding in my head. I know I’ll never escape because we even pour out liquor for the dead.

Worst of all, the news from all over the world keeps me so twisted that I don’t even look anymore because the room is constantly spinning. The woes of the world can give you alcohol poisoning if you try to take it all in. So much of it is right in my face so I stay drunk and wasted all day. Maybe it’ll change. I hope so because I can’t wait to be sober. I wonder what that’s like?

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


(excerpt from the Gully God Chronicles)
Part 1 : Full of Smoke

My first love was like smoke from a house fire. It caught me while I was asleep and nearly killed me. The batteries were dead in the smoke alarm and I only knew something was wrong when I started choking. That opened my eyes only to find that the world around me was burning faster than I could put out the flames. In the end, I had no choice but to jump out of the window. It was the best kind, the hottest type of passion that started the fire but I knew that in the end, it would become dangerous to kill me. In time, the burns from the fire healed but my lungs were still scorched from the smoke.
After that, I strictly took in all types of that good smoke that makes one mellow. Some I found around my way, basically homegrowns and domestics. Then I decided to branch out and try the foreign and exotic blends. I guess that could be considered the peace pipe era. No stress, no strings and not really much of a distraction. The only tricky part was keeping my lungs filled. There was no reason to hide anything and I was satisfied with that life. It was easy to keep my sanity and maintain the perfect balance between the soothing smoke and the fresh air.
Just as I was getting comfortable with my pleasant entanglements as opposed to relationships, I introduced myself to one of the deadliest types of smoke known to man. She was like cigarettes, a slow killer. Slow addiction that you never notice until you try to stop. It’s not a demanding type of smoke and it’s easy to keep with you for a long time. It helps you to relieve stress. You put it to your lips without a second thought but over time, that cigarette smoke shrivels your lungs. It makes you weak and prone to getting sick. I didn’t realize that the smoke from that cigarette was killing me slow until I tried to fly like I used to and found out that something as simple as me just being ME could leave me out of breath. Seven years and two months I held that cigarette smoke in my lungs until eventually, I let go of that nicotine addiction. (I still give cigarettes a try from time to time but I never buy packs anymore.)
Now, withdrawal from giving up those cigarettes had me fishing for trouble right after; basically a rebound situation. I was looking for the sexiest high to balance out the lows that only a person who has lost love knows. The problem was, everything I came across reminded me of crack. I never tried it myself but I know what it does to addicts who’ve inhaled the smoke of that demon. Therefore, I never started. I know all about the men who get hemmed up with deadly women who can’t be trusted, drape themselves in deceit and eventually cheat. But those men ignore their suspicions and common sense because her loving is sweet. I never ever breathe that type of smoke.
So, then I decided to take my time. I blow cigar smoke now when I need to ease my mind. Strong-willed women still try hard to make me marry but, the beauty of a good cigar is that I never have to inhale to enjoy the feeling of smoking.

***Of course, those of you who know me know that I’ll re-write this a million times until I get the right vibe. It can’t be helped. It is what it is & that’s how I do what I do.***

COMING SOON – PART 2 : Drunk & Wasted