#MNR: The Death Of A Dream

#MNR-The Death of a Dream

More Than Just Friends
by Ty Thompson

I’ve oft envisioned a date with Amy.
It’s just she and I, the elevated ambiance of the luminous quarter moon,
And a fine spirit for our fancy.
Deep within her eyes I see the torment,
her lone wish to be loved unconditionally.
Absolutely.
Infinitely.
I hear her plea, I feel her anguish.
If only I were the antidote to her complex melancholy.
If only she knew that her gift shall bless me for life’s duration.
Her melody is my refuge.
Sadly, my vision was merely a mirage.
There was no date, nary an opportunity to express just what she means to me.
C’est la vie.
It’s quite alright though, sincerely.
You are my enchantress of sorrow, my heroine of despair.
I’ll always love and appreciate you
Ms. Winehouse.

Amy was so amazing.

I’m so tired of hearing angry Black folk with influence encouraging other Black folk to abstain from voting under the “Your Vote as a Colored Person Doesn’t Matter” narrative. That’s the most ignorant shit I’ve heard in forty years of fuckery. The comedian Corey Holcomb is one of narrators of this particular narrative. Come on bruh. Infinite respect to you and your craft, you’re one of the best. But shut your silly ass up with that ignorant bullshit. If you choose not to vote that’s your right. But don’t encourage ignorance. Suffrage is an essential right to any and every democracy. There is no democracy without voting. Voting only fails to work when marginal citizens choose to forego their civic right and duty. And then elections are lost because pockets of eligible voters choose to stay at home rather than carry their sorry ass down to the precinct and press two, tree button dem behind dem blood clot curtain. Then you same idiots complain about the rain falling down on your head from Capitol Hill or one of #45’s golf courses. Just shut yo dumb, ignorant ass up. For those with a shred of common sense, fall through the polls tomorrow. I’m not concerned with whom you vote for. I just hope you vote.

On around this day fifteen years ago, my bro P.R. from eastside Harlem was assassinated by a couple of treacherous MF he’d just made an up with out of state down Bmore (jux, lick, etc.) Everything went according to plan until the same MF he just did a job with turned their guns on him. The day I found out we were ciphing in Smurf’s crib next door in 2095. It was Smurf, his wife Eisha, and me. Manny from upstairs in my building (210) came to the door hysterical. When we heard the news all three of us went into our own bubble. Smurf stormed back to his bedroom. Eisha just sat at the table and kept saying OMG until I couldn’t hear anything at all. I got up and took it back to Jerz. Immediately. I couldn’t believe my bro wasn’t gon come walking from 15th around to the front of the building with his trademark Dominican “what’s good!” and soon after beginning a two man trek to the newest, livest reefa spot. Then we’d come back to my building, hit the bat cave, and burnî two Dutches full of Mango Pinga. P.R. was a good kid. He left here before he really got a chance to live. What’s even crazier is that I can remember his death being the end of the Voltron squad: me, my cousin Leaha, my bro Cuervo, Smurf, Eisha, Laddi, Pretty J, Doreen and her soft ass husband Alex. We all casually hung out together in our projects, but it was love. Everyone went their own way after the bro died. I dunno if his death was the reason. It prolly wasn’t. But it marked the end of the Jeff traveling squad. It’s funny how you can dead go from hanging out regularly with a group of folk to not seeing or hearing from them for years. After P.R. I lost a lotta brothers in a hurry. I think about the decisions that we all have made that literally decided our fate in a split second. Sometimes I have to heavily sedate myself to keep from thinking about death. Highs and lows. Life and death. Don’t mind me y’all. I’m fine. Sometimes I just sit back and let the sick thoughts enter. Then I put it down so you can read it. Relate to it. You’ve been through your own share. It’s never easy. But you’re never alone.

LONG LIVE FREDDIE MERCURY
Bohemian Rhapsody was a damn good biopic. I only waited about 25 years for it.
LONG LIVE QUEEN
7.5/10
P.S. The Live Aid scene was electric.

Big ups to the Crew. I’m glad my brother Mo is back home. First Team All Heart.

Until we meet again...happy trails to you.
theunbearablescrew.com
tymonday.com