As far back as i can remember, all i ever wanted was to be loved by someone. Now don't get me wrong, i had a mother, father, several siblings, stepparents, grandparents. If memory serves me correct; there were always relatives living with us. My mom's sisters moved to California at some point during my toddler years. Events come and go but the first one that i can recall was my cousin Kim falling out the second story window of their apartment in Long Beach. Now for some reason i could see myself in the room when she fell. and i could also see myself looking down at her on the ground. The ambulance came we followed it to the hospital. End result, she broke her arm. Of course, i was blamed. I believe they said i pushed her out the window. That was the beginning of all that was wrong with me.
Next vision that comes to mind is the party's that my parents use to have. Friends, family, cousins; music playing, all the kids in the back room playing, smoke filled the air. Little did i know back then that is was marijauana mixed within that cigarette smoke. Glasses half filled with liquor. Women sitting in mens laps. At the dining room table they were playing cards, a game called, "Bid Wisk". I mean they played hotseat, thats where after every hand the couple who lost hast to get up. And the next pair would take their place. Somewhere during all of this partying, when a good dance song would come on; the children would come into the room and dance for the parents. I always thought thats was the normal in black households.
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