April 27, 2012

know your roots.

Don't forget where you came from. You find yourself in certain places, instances, situations and surrounded by extraordinary surroundings. That time of the day when you just can't help but be blessed by circumstances. I've been admiring where I came from lately. Although it may seem that I say that referencing one particular place, I say it in a more broad spectrum. I say it referring to last month and I say it deriving from a trailer park, I think of the jail cells and in respect of how we paid our dues surviving the car crash. I can't help but want this sort of remembrance for others. It wouldn't be healthy to dwell in the past but it wouldn't do us much good to not remember it. Often I feel a stirring of the spirit you could say. I can't explain it and I assume a psychiatrist could diagnose "the problem" but it's an attachment of emotions to people, smells, sights. They're the sort of things that prompt me to call my mom or message an old facebook friend, I can literally go back in my imagination and sit on tubbs with Nick and Joe practically tasting the 'Delectable Drank' as we discuss the last skatepark brawl.

I guess the reason i'm so reminiscent is because I'm away from all that right now. The way the future looks it seems as though i'll always be away from the origin of these memories. I really appreciate where I came from. I appreciate the trailer park, for being the fat kid, my parents divorce, my rebelliousness, and how Jesus has legitimately became the only homie I've known to be true. Don't kid yourself.

Nick and I 10 years after meeting in the trailer park.
Who knew we'd still be doing the same crap 10 years
later. Riding bikes, making vids, chillin hard.

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