MNR: Thoughts – Room 6432, Bed 1
Peace to the nation (and when I speak of nations, please don’t make the deviation). Last week’s #MNR was as candid as can be. I held nothing back about my life and times; I rarely do. But it’s never easy. When you do such things, you really put yourself on the chopping block for ALL to potentially scrutinize. Oh well. That’s me. I’m a speak on it, even if it ends with egg on my face. This blog is short and sweet, yet it’s prodigious. Below are the candid and unfiltered thoughts from my two week “medical vacation” to begin 2020 (1.1.2020-1.14.2020). I recorded each entry exactly as it came to mind. As always, there was no filter. My thanks go to the Lord, my queen, my family, and my bro/Crew CEO Christian Eaddy. I wouldn’t have made it without them. Truly. CEO brought me a notepad on day two of my stay at Englewood Hospital. He told me it would be therapeutic to record my thoughts. I used the notepad for a few things, but I recorded the following thoughts in my iPhone notes. This is the first time that I’ve shared what I recorded with ANYONE. Shit, this is the first time I even looked at these notes in 1.5 years, though I never forgot that they were on file. I knew the day would come when it would be the right time to share the many thoughts I had in my mind amidst the worst two weeks of my life. Feel free to judge. Nothing has been changed, short of a couple grammatical errors. Roll that shit up and prepare for a short but bumpy ride. Let’s get it.
There’s nothing like being on someone else’s time when you’re naturally independent.
I’ve lost every shred of dignity in here.
“I’m bleeding. I don’t have legs.” (The serial yeller somewhere on this floor)
I think “Memory Lane” might actually be my favorite song off Illmatic.
I’m almost certain if I were a mutant, I’d be with Magneto’s crew and not Professor X.
“Baby when I tell you I love you I mean this life. Baby when I tell you I need you I mean these lights.” Camp Lo
Never been to prison but from what I’ve heard from my family and the homies I can say there are a lotta similarities between it and the hospital. MF yelling out all hours. Staff ignoring you. I’m stashing shit like saccharine packets and moist towelettes.
I feel for my life every morning. I’m quite certain that I’d be dying and these people would never answer the alarm.
Average sixth floor alarm response time: 17 minutes.
1.6.2020 (1.7.2020) - The person who’s supposed to put my CPAP mask on never came. And she asked ME what time...I said 12:30 AM. At 1:30 AM I took matters into my own hands.
The irony of finally appreciating the natural taste of Corn Flakes after a lifetime of dumping sugar in every bowl...
The same way this current generation of fans felt when Kofi Kingston won the WWE World Title is the way my generation felt when Ron Simmons won the WCW Championship.
Ole boy is still yelling. His voice is long reaching. I’m not even mad anymore.
If I enter a room, I speak to everyone I see.
I’ve had a postal manager and a Vietnam pilot as bunkies. Good men.
I find a way to push everyone away in my life.
There’s definitely a realistic scenario where I take my own life one day.
I prolly listened to Jeezy “Real Nigga Anthem” 85 days straight in 2012.
My new bunkie’s BPM suddenly dropped from 70 something to 30 and the whole squad filled the room faster than police response when white folks dial 9-1-1. I think he’s good now.
Code Blue means someone’s stopped breathing. I’ve heard it issued at least 15 times since my medical vacation.
Letters to God
Amy Winehouse “Just Friends.” I love and miss you girl. You really touched my soul.
Don’t know if I’d make it through this without my queen. She’s my MVP.
Mr. Thompson 2.0
We some kings, nigga.
Haven’t seen the sun in 14 days. Heard it’s raining today (1.14). I could care less. Just let the wind and rain grace my skin. I pray I’m released today as scheduled.
Not many can genuinely say they’ve received a second chance at life. It’s on me from here.
To the projects I’m ghost shorty wop, one love.