The thought of this title comes from a question my wife asked me last week. The question was, "why do you keep watching Sons of Anarchy every time it comes on TV when you've seen it so many times?" And it was true, if I saw an episode on the AUDHD channel late at night then, the next two weeks I would end up binge watching the entire show from the point of where that episode left off. Of course, I enjoyed the show and I used to hold my true thoughts inside but I told her the real reason I would watch the show over. To Feed off of the Pain was the reason. I found a sense of reality from the hurt in the show. The lies and consequences that came with the deceit. The people, friends, and family that were lost through out the day to day of the club (Life), touches you in a way. Especially, if you've lost close ones and dealt with lies and people you love guiding you down certain paths or blocking parts of the truth. The main character Jax or Jackson Teller had a heart of gold but had to survive around wolves and was burdened with the legacy of a Father whose shoes he could never fill. Meanwhile, having a deceitful mother who loved the best way she knew how too. Not saying my mom was Jemma but she could go Jemma if needed as most mothers can I'm sure.
Growing up in a two parent household with a garage, dad built a dirt basketball court for me, taught me how to pitch, fish, field a ground ball and most importantly hold and open the door for women. I had a go-kart and my dad even built a track in a field behind the house, my little sister had her toys and clothes and all of the things girls like growing up before becoming a teenager. My mother was an office manager of Wilder and Gregory Law Firm which was in the Merrill Lynch building in the heart of Downtown Richmond, Va. Pops was a Manager at Crown Cork and Seal before it became Orbist. Dad was also a bike rider and a strong member of his motorcycle club Thunder Road. I had never experienced any struggle that I knew of before becoming a teenager. Life was good. I had a neighborhood full of friends and cousins and we stayed playing something outside. I played baseball started as an out fielder then became a pitcher by middle school. My sister was a cheerleader since kindergarten basically and the biggest issue for us was who got the remote to the TV after getting off the bus as latchkey kids. As I said life was good.
When I became a teenager, I started to listen to the arguments my parents had just as any kid does and started to realize there was some other issues going on. As a 13 year-old kid, I had a couple of girlfriends in the past few years so you have an idea of when the vibe is good or bad if you will, from a young teenager's point of view anyway. Long story short, Mom and Dad began to spend less and less time together some Dad wouldn't come home before I went to sleep and probably didn't come home those nights in some cases. Most kids never know who to blame but who really does? Shit just doesn't work out sometimes right! It goes like that sometimes, more often then none these days.
Fast forward to a separation and a relocation with Mom, sister, and I. The emotional stress of not seeing Dad everyday eventually becomes, "why haven't I seen dad", to "awh well I'll see him when I see him." From a popular country kid to an outsider living in the North-side of Richmond at 15 and 16, I had to become a man quicker than normal. I have to thank my cousins for introducing me to a 21 year-old Northsider who knew the streets but played the game accordingly. From the shadows. He had the book and the street smarts and kept me out of the streets as much as he could anyway. When he couldn't, he just showed me how to move and I'll never forget you for that L-Boogie. I still would skip school, though wait till school was out and call him, ready to ride. It was a rush for me to ride around the city with the big rims on the car and 12" speakers in the trunk. Cash Money was big at the time, Black Rob's album, Shine, Rough Riders, and The Dynasty by Jay-Z was out. All night on Broad St. when you could ride up and down and park on the street watching all the cars and girls doing the same thing. Not a care in the world and only $20 to my name at the time, chillin'!! That's an entire story in itself those days, all love no pain baby.
Years go by and by this time, I had already failed 11th grade in a Southside public school because of so many missed days. We had an apartment which was less than a quarter mile from Huguenot High School so it was a small walk to the store for Dutches and Richmond City Schools didn't exactly notify parents when their kids missed school. This was a bad habit I had picked up from John Marshall High School (99'-00'), showing up for Homeroom counted as a full day in North Side but on the South Side the teachers kind of kept a better count of who was and who was not showing up for school. I had moved back to the county, my mom had her issues, lost her job and eventually I was coming home at night to a house with no electricity. I just continued to sell, why not all of my people around me were selling and some even selling and using unfortunately. With in no time the world was falling down around me. My sister had already moved in with our grandmother and my Dad had his own spot but I stayed with mom because of the freedom. Cliche' of how my son enjoys his mom because it's a bit more freedom than being with "Pops" who just wants to make sure you get the discipline and guidance a young man needs. That freedom, led to a downward spiral as I didn't really look up to anyone or had a male role model at the age of 19. I just did what I wanted day to day but at night you have to deal with your reality, we all do!
Eventually, by my mid twenties I had lost my dad to a bike accident, friends to the street life and family to drugs and prison. I learned that the smart people learn from their mistakes but the wise learn from others mistakes. I consider myself to be one of those wise individuals as I could see the outcome for my future if I were to continue on the path I was on. My son was 3 years old at this time and as far as the dope game, I realized that no matter how smart I was or cautious you cant account for when that close friend or "good customer" gets caught and gives you up, then comes back the next day and buys double of what he purchased yesterday. Besides I wanted to make sure my son never had to look at me through a window or prison bars. That's the inevitable end game for the street hustler, if he isn't killed or getting high on his own supply.
I found an escape in a small apartment me and my now wife rented in a neighboring county and I began to meet a different group of people as I got deeper in the Poker underground community. After while, I would mask the pain of my losses by hosting my own Poker game which kept people around me all the time. Being alone would only enhance the memories of people I would no longer see or not see for a while. Thoughts of my future were dim during the 07' - 09' years. I was definitely living day to day for sure. The false sense of security had set in for a 25 year old who had inherited a life insurance policy and a portion of a wrongful death settlement. It didn't take long to figure out that money couldn't buy happiness or peace for that matter. That's why I enjoy my books and self evaluations today because of the mindset that can be built if you work on learning your emotional worthwhile and what you want out of life. You really can create your own world inside of your head. This will help you accomplish your goals that you will set when you figure out what it is you want to do.
I still embrace the pain from the loss of a father and trials of close ones but, death helped me understand life owes and guarantees nothing or no one! Though I don't morn when other people lose their loved ones, I understand what it is to endure the pain they will soon face and I make it a purpose to show up for them at funerals now because, I knew what it meant to me. Seeing those I loved there for my dad when I exited the Church. Today, the sound of a Harley Davidson starting is a bitter sweet euphoria that cuts and soothes at the same time, with one or the other lingering depending on how the day is going. I see people's day to day struggles often consuming the weak minded and I pray for them in my personal sanctuary. Attempts to give guidance and advice will fall by the wayside of the uneducated and hardheaded who cant seem to realize their choices are why they suffer the given consequences. The harsh reality of trying to educate a teenager about what lies ahead oftentimes gets frustrating because they haven't lived long enough to understand how choices can effect their lives and those around them.
A false sense of life is portrayed on social media apps and video games but it's rare for most to see the hurt behind filtered smiles. I like to remind myself of the pain of coming home to no electricity or the feeling of hopelessness walking into a grandparent's house as a boomerang young adult whose failures makes them come back home and reset their lives. I also know now there's nothing wrong with failing. Remember that!!
Staring out the window of a 42nd floor hotel looking across the bright lights of Atlantic City's Adult playground at 25 years-old brought the same euphoria and loneliness even with a bankroll built up to $14,000 locked in a safe. The morning view became a humbling experience as the clouds surrounded the top of the Borgata Casino and Spa and that is where the thought of pursuing the college degree, my mother and father wanted so much for me to achieve, came from. "I knew you you could do it baby" is what my mom always told me. Thus, led to a career and drive that has propelled me to where I am today mentally and physically. This a blog not an autobiography from a celebrity, I'm still check to check lmao... Just keep reading.
Pain can be used as strength and when there's a certain level of tolerance for it, I often find different ways to tap into it to remind me of the times when I thought life would never get better. It may seem odd to some but others can relate, trust me. A part of you is forever removed from feeling anything, while the other part is forever grateful of the people around us today.
Of course, I would like to say I use other ways for empowerment in 2019, as I find myself reading books, listening to podcasts and sharing conversations with wise and successful people. Which is true but, sometimes I remind myself not to get too comfortable by stabbing at a piece of those emotions that brings that pain to the surface, just as a person with a complexed mental, who needs to inflict physical pain upon themselves at times. My infliction of pain is done mentally though and ultimately healed with success along with the prayer to the man upstairs. Just my thoughts...
-Floetspear
