Its that time of the year again, Jesus's birthday. Its funny how Jesus gets all the attention out of everyone, no one gives a shit about Moses or Buddha's birthday. Those two guys and many others got the ugly end of the stick. I guess its cus Jesus was a light skin nigga. I'm just glad we have an excuse to eat, could use more days like that. I don't give a shit if its "worship a goat day" or "Sacrifice Saturday", as long as we get to eat I'm up for it.
In the past I would make "resolutions" just like everyone else, but just like every article you read on earth, no one can keep them. Instead I just continue on the goals I set myself before the new year and perhaps tweek and adjust them. The new year is nice because it gives you a reason to accomplish them, "hey, new year, new begining, make some shit happen". Thats usually the attitude and its nice to have a reason to make shit happen. Alright, enough of the wise father talk, lets move on to tits and ass...
Growing up we didn't celbrate Christmas, it was only until my parents split and my mom thought it would be a good way to bring joy into the house. The first year, we got a tree, presents, lights, and all the christmassy shit a kid could want, felt like we were immigrants who has just come to America. Up until then Christmas had been this off limits holiday that white people celebrated and was farfetched for us to actually consider. So when it actually happened in December of 1997, it felt damn good, that plus cable, holy fuck, it was great, at least for me it was. The following year was a bit rough, mom had gotten really sick and it wasn't the greatest year financially. This sounds like some ancient story about the journey going west. So mom was really sick, sick to the point where she was just sitting on the bathroom floor completely drained as we aided her with fluids and what not. She would switch off between dry heaving and actually throwing up. I was 8 or 9 and my sis was about 12 or 13 and we hadn't seen a parent in need at that level so it was a bit intense. We still had the tree up because she wasn't sick at that point but afterwords I figured, well there wont be any Christmas this year and that was ok. A few days went by and mom was still sick so there DEFINTIELY wasn't going to be a Christmas. Meanwhile our neighbhors next door were stacking up presents like firewood, they'd come over and cross off their checklist, "skateboard, check" fuckers. On Christmas morning that year, we woke up and went to the living room not expecting anything but mom had some things for us, I was pretty excited. She gave us a Looney Tunes T-Shirt and a water gun each. Now that seems pretty funny/shitty and it is, we still joke about that till today, my mom got mad at me a few days later and ended up breaking my water gun so I actually only got a T-shirt that year. But yea, we joke about that Christmas all the time, she just called me two days ago and laughed about it so that makes this blog ok....Not callin my mom out for being broke and sick. Thinking back on that gesture my mom made, by actually thinking "oh shit, its Christmas and the kids wont have anything"....Just the fact that she thought of that, was HUGE, considering we had never celebrated Christmas before that, so she wasn't culturally programmed to make it a priority or of importance but she did, and that was so great of her to do. That year sticks with me, its impossible to forget, out of all the Christmas stories, that's literally the only one I FULLY remember. The other years are all jumbled, not that they were insignificant, no, they were awesome but not as memorable as the Christmas of 97.
In the past I would make "resolutions" just like everyone else, but just like every article you read on earth, no one can keep them. Instead I just continue on the goals I set myself before the new year and perhaps tweek and adjust them. The new year is nice because it gives you a reason to accomplish them, "hey, new year, new begining, make some shit happen". Thats usually the attitude and its nice to have a reason to make shit happen. Alright, enough of the wise father talk, lets move on to tits and ass...
Growing up we didn't celbrate Christmas, it was only until my parents split and my mom thought it would be a good way to bring joy into the house. The first year, we got a tree, presents, lights, and all the christmassy shit a kid could want, felt like we were immigrants who has just come to America. Up until then Christmas had been this off limits holiday that white people celebrated and was farfetched for us to actually consider. So when it actually happened in December of 1997, it felt damn good, that plus cable, holy fuck, it was great, at least for me it was. The following year was a bit rough, mom had gotten really sick and it wasn't the greatest year financially. This sounds like some ancient story about the journey going west. So mom was really sick, sick to the point where she was just sitting on the bathroom floor completely drained as we aided her with fluids and what not. She would switch off between dry heaving and actually throwing up. I was 8 or 9 and my sis was about 12 or 13 and we hadn't seen a parent in need at that level so it was a bit intense. We still had the tree up because she wasn't sick at that point but afterwords I figured, well there wont be any Christmas this year and that was ok. A few days went by and mom was still sick so there DEFINTIELY wasn't going to be a Christmas. Meanwhile our neighbhors next door were stacking up presents like firewood, they'd come over and cross off their checklist, "skateboard, check" fuckers. On Christmas morning that year, we woke up and went to the living room not expecting anything but mom had some things for us, I was pretty excited. She gave us a Looney Tunes T-Shirt and a water gun each. Now that seems pretty funny/shitty and it is, we still joke about that till today, my mom got mad at me a few days later and ended up breaking my water gun so I actually only got a T-shirt that year. But yea, we joke about that Christmas all the time, she just called me two days ago and laughed about it so that makes this blog ok....Not callin my mom out for being broke and sick. Thinking back on that gesture my mom made, by actually thinking "oh shit, its Christmas and the kids wont have anything"....Just the fact that she thought of that, was HUGE, considering we had never celebrated Christmas before that, so she wasn't culturally programmed to make it a priority or of importance but she did, and that was so great of her to do. That year sticks with me, its impossible to forget, out of all the Christmas stories, that's literally the only one I FULLY remember. The other years are all jumbled, not that they were insignificant, no, they were awesome but not as memorable as the Christmas of 97.
Damn man that was touching
ReplyDelete1997!!
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