It feels as if I’m always pushed to a corner. It’s like my name on a school assignment or a rook on the chessboard.
I’m just trying to make a play, but it’s difficult to push the weight of coming fresh off the bench that’s on the sideline.
In the fall, I wrote about how this doubt was raining over me just like a cloud. The solution to that was to take the reins of it and wear it like a crown. This is my true reign. I swear, once my pride catches its stride, I’ll make everyone more proud than how Lavar Ball is of his three boys.
I’ve always been the good son. I mean, I’m from the Rio Grande Valley but I never did palm trees. I don’t dare to drink because I can’t drown my heart after all we’ve been through. Ha, we are so close that we bump fists and give each other dap, knowing well we got each other’s back.
The only thing I did grasp was this pen and these 26 letters, hoping to find a combination to be safe.
Sometimes, I wonder how everyone will remember me when I pass like an assist. I’ve never been a poster boy of perfection. So, would anyone try to see through my frame? I never was an all-star on the court, never been the smartest kid in the classroom, and couldn’t be prince charming. But, you want to know something?
Whenever I write, I feel like a prince of the pen.
It’s odd, even though writing can be a lonely profession; it’s when most eyes are on me. It’s the only time I feel like I have this blessing.
The shine.
I’ve noticed that people want to seek approval of others, as if to make sure they are doing something right. My advice is to never seek validation for your efforts. Unseen hustle shows that your train of thought is on the right grind on the underground railroad that is your mind. The travel hasn’t been easy, though. Trust me when I say that I traveled sadder Miles than that of Davis’ trumpet. It can be kind of blue when you’re running after something that seems close, but, yet so far.
It’s more beautiful than a struggle that you get over though and live to tell about it.
You have to marry what makes you stand the tallest and not flirt with it. Whether it be a person, place or thing, just promise to keep a ring. With my pen, I see the tops of skyscrapers and swear I can write my name in the skyline. However, there’s always temptations, trials and tests that will try to separate us.
At times, it feels like I’m trying to climb up Chapel Hill or Mount Olympus with Tar Heels. Then, there’s more Sun Devils than Arizona State University that are hotter than Valley summers whose goals are to sway me off the path while singing so sweetly in my ears. Luckily, they dropped me as if I was a class that was too hard to pass. Maybe, they couldn’t keep it together like the fist of a political activist. I can’t have a heavy heart toward them, that will pour me into an early grave. It’s just a sad shame we couldn’t be on the same page.
Why writing? Well, I’ve always had this weird intuition. It’s like I’m supposed to be this hero and save the world. I know I can’t save the globe, but maybe I can rescue the one around me.
I said it before and I’ll say it once more. We are all royalty. We all possess something special like an apostrophe. You can’t give up looking for your own crown; and when you find it, don’t let anyone knock it down.
So, if you ever hear a rumbling and drumming from down the street corner, it isn’t Zeus or any type of thunder god. It isn’t a chariot with a knight in shining armor. It isn’t a player from the hood. It’s a car that’s blastin’ tunes out the window.
And you want to know who is in it?
It’s me–the broke, brown boy who plays prince.
