Random Family

I first heard about Boy George from my Kid’s Father. Boy George was a large drug nigga like Alpo and Fat Cat but from the Bronx where my kid’s father is from. I heard this nigga had the James Bond cars that shot oil from the tail and tacks to flatten tires of anybody trying to carchasel him and that he had parties where Jody Watley and other stars at the peak of their careers performed. I heard some other shit that didn’t make it into the book and is therefore not my place to repeat.

So when I found this book  Random Family (on a stoop) and saw his name in the blurb about the book, I thought this was going to be along the lines of Scarface or American Gangster.

I have to segue a lil’ into a whole other tangent.

All along, for some time now, I’ve been asking for a teacher or a guide. My kids father was my teacher and guide for a long time. Then it became like how when you first start taking piano lessons you feel like your teacher is a master but after awhile you practice the chords and repeat, repeat, repeat until you find your own intuitive ability. Then you start veering off, playing with different melodies and developing your innate talent. After a while, there isn’t anything more to learn from that teacher and you have to move on.  When the focus of our relationship became drama, mistrust, hostility, suspicion and dishonesty, he couldn’t teach me anymore because I didn’t want to learn that and it was like his focus became trying to destroy me. The more I started really seeing the ugly things he said, did or thought the further and further away I felt from him to where mentally we don’t connect anymore. And because I stopped trusting him , he stopped being an authority on anything to me.

One day, and I swear I’m not even bullshitting this man came on TV and started saying things that tied into all the millions of thoughts running around the hamster wheel of my brain. I went ahead and when I got the money, bought the CDs he was talking about.

I didnt have the money right then so for about a month, I just thought about it and thought about it. I researched Sri Yantra and sacred geometry and the “tulpa” and mad shit was going thru my head but in broken strands not in any orbit. When I first listened to the tapes, I was feeling like this was too simple and the man was really only saying the same things over and over but there were little things that he said that struck me and let me know if this wasnt the real shit it was very close to it.

So anyway, last week I’m listening to this man and it is relevant that he’s a WHITE man talking about how you can create great wealth or whatever the hell you want with your mind and how this is the secret of success. And I applied it and it worked a little to show me that it works.

Then I started reading this book and it turned out to not be a scintillating urban action thriller at all but the story of a Bronx family. The tragic, heartbreaking and painful story of the shit that we as Black women all go thru, about the lack, degradation, misery, confinement and brokenness that has  become us. Everybody in this book, (except for Boy George who knows the EXACT shit I paid that guide to teach me when I bought those CDs and who put it in the realest way possible so you can feel it), is powerless.

This dude that was down with GW Bush said “We’re history’s actors. We create realities while you stand around and study what we do.”

I have been living a made life, made by other people, studying their moves after they’ve made them, always playing catch-up, trying to make $250 out of $.50.

When I started this blog, I thought it would play out as me rewinding tape and editing out some parts, splicing the good back together and rolling footage. But now its looking like I have to take this straight to DVD. Its turning into something totally different.

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