- Apr 27, 2014
- 10,996
- 9,495
One of my childhood friends died. I didn't even find out until I went on his Facebook page on Monday and saw nothing but RIPs and I Miss Yous. He's been gone since September, and I had no idea.
This was like at 2 in the morning. I immediately called my best friend, and just kept saying "WHAT THE **** SON. WHAT THE ****. GO ON THIS *****'S PAGE RIGHT NOW SON. WTF." All I kept repeating. When he saw it, he said the exact same thing. "WHAT THE ****?"
We called another friend on threeway. Spent the entire night on Facebook trying to figure out what happened. Went on profiles of family members and friends. No conclusive evidence. Just RIPs and Never Forgottens. No conclusive evidence.
This ***** had a baby, man. A beautiful daughter. A gorgeous little girl. My boy had seen a picture of an ultrasound on his FB last year and messaged him about it, but got no response so we didn't think anything of it. This little girl won't know her father. Won't know how amazing of a person he was.
We all lived in this one building together. In East Flatbush. He was the only one out of us who had his own room. He had a two bedroom crib. The rest of us slept in our living rooms. And he had all the ****. All the games. Donkey Kong 64 and Mario Kart and Diddy Kong Racing, and then Smash Bros Melee which we played all the time. I had my PS2, but I was always jealous of his Game Cube.
I remember Christmas of 2001, I got Pokemon Silver. I ran upstairs to show everyone and brag, and BAM! This ***** pulled out Pokemon Gold without saying a word. Just straight up ethered my black *** with that Pokemon Gold.
He was the coolest of us. The oldest, the most seasoned. The biggest. When we were in the streets, being harassed, he threw them hands. When he was in the 7th grade and I the 5th, I personally witnessed him give an 8th grader the Kimbo Slice outside of a corner store. Then we went upstairs into the building, the other kids looking at us crazy. ***** didn't even talk about it. He shoulder clapped this older kid, I'm out here shaking and sweating. Adrenaline still pumping. But he's cool. Like nothing happened.
We used to gang up on him and he would wash us all. Them hands was rated E for Everyone. When my friend's boy, who we didn't even know, got jumped and robbed by some gangbangers, this dude said "yo le'ts go see if they're still out there. I feel like fighting. I'm just in the mood to fight." Them hands was rated E for Everyone, b.
He moved out of NY. I was devastated when it happened. We were all devastated. It wasn't the same.
Eventually I moved out of NY, to the same state. I added him on FB. Strangely I even ended up attending the same school as him. So the two of us who came up in this building, now students at the same school on the other end of the country.
I saw him once that entire time, a couple years ago. On campus. This ***** was like 7 feet tall. He had on a labcoat and ****. Looking mad professional. Not the dude in the du-rag I used to loiter around KP with. Negro even had the same exact voice I remember, except like 10x deeper and maybe tinged with a little more Jamaican patois.
He was with his girl. We spoke briefly. Laughed. He had the same smile. It was like those 8 years hadn't even passed. It was the same old homie. He was cussing out his girl the way he used to cuss us out. We promised to hang out eventually. I was just looking at a FB chat between us. Trading addresses. We were apparently going to hang out on a Saturday.
It didn't happen.
He was the first one of us to smash a female. The first one of us to go to middle, and then high school. He was the first one of us to make it out of the ghetto. The first one of us to conceive a child of his own.
And now the first one of us to die. He's gone. Just like that.
He was born in 1990. He was 24. Too young. Way too young.
I messaged his baby's mother and fiance on Facebook, and gave her a call the next day. Long story short he had a heard condition, apparently. So he died. Just like that. 24 years on Earth, and then just taken away because hey you've got a heart condition. What?
This ***** codified my childhood. Partly because of him and my other friends, I didn't even realize I was living in the ghetto. Kids in the suburbs CAN'T have had as much fun as we did.
I don't even understand how I'm handling this. I don't think my best friend is handling this well. Nobody would handle something like this well. I haven't cried yet, though I've hit the brink a couple of times. The past couple of nights, weird dreams. Visions of him. What man has visions of another man? You may as well call him daddy. IDK man. He's gone.
Flashbacks on flashbacks on flashbacks. Kings Plaza. Tilden Park. Did anyone else used to go to Tilden Park and play ball or swing on those goofy *** swings or get harassed by dealers or whatever? The movie theater at Kings Plaza. My pops took all of us there to see some goofy *** movie that I can't remember. I think it was Dr. Doolittle 2.
Life is short, man. We're just the universe making a limited, independent observation of itself. But there's no telling when we have to go back. When we're no longer allotted our independence.
Is there a God? Did God take away my friend for a reason? Why put him here just to take him away 20 years later?
I'm going to stop typing now.
Life is short, man. Do what you can. Let's all do what we can.
This was like at 2 in the morning. I immediately called my best friend, and just kept saying "WHAT THE **** SON. WHAT THE ****. GO ON THIS *****'S PAGE RIGHT NOW SON. WTF." All I kept repeating. When he saw it, he said the exact same thing. "WHAT THE ****?"
We called another friend on threeway. Spent the entire night on Facebook trying to figure out what happened. Went on profiles of family members and friends. No conclusive evidence. Just RIPs and Never Forgottens. No conclusive evidence.
This ***** had a baby, man. A beautiful daughter. A gorgeous little girl. My boy had seen a picture of an ultrasound on his FB last year and messaged him about it, but got no response so we didn't think anything of it. This little girl won't know her father. Won't know how amazing of a person he was.
We all lived in this one building together. In East Flatbush. He was the only one out of us who had his own room. He had a two bedroom crib. The rest of us slept in our living rooms. And he had all the ****. All the games. Donkey Kong 64 and Mario Kart and Diddy Kong Racing, and then Smash Bros Melee which we played all the time. I had my PS2, but I was always jealous of his Game Cube.
I remember Christmas of 2001, I got Pokemon Silver. I ran upstairs to show everyone and brag, and BAM! This ***** pulled out Pokemon Gold without saying a word. Just straight up ethered my black *** with that Pokemon Gold.
He was the coolest of us. The oldest, the most seasoned. The biggest. When we were in the streets, being harassed, he threw them hands. When he was in the 7th grade and I the 5th, I personally witnessed him give an 8th grader the Kimbo Slice outside of a corner store. Then we went upstairs into the building, the other kids looking at us crazy. ***** didn't even talk about it. He shoulder clapped this older kid, I'm out here shaking and sweating. Adrenaline still pumping. But he's cool. Like nothing happened.
We used to gang up on him and he would wash us all. Them hands was rated E for Everyone. When my friend's boy, who we didn't even know, got jumped and robbed by some gangbangers, this dude said "yo le'ts go see if they're still out there. I feel like fighting. I'm just in the mood to fight." Them hands was rated E for Everyone, b.
He moved out of NY. I was devastated when it happened. We were all devastated. It wasn't the same.
Eventually I moved out of NY, to the same state. I added him on FB. Strangely I even ended up attending the same school as him. So the two of us who came up in this building, now students at the same school on the other end of the country.
I saw him once that entire time, a couple years ago. On campus. This ***** was like 7 feet tall. He had on a labcoat and ****. Looking mad professional. Not the dude in the du-rag I used to loiter around KP with. Negro even had the same exact voice I remember, except like 10x deeper and maybe tinged with a little more Jamaican patois.
He was with his girl. We spoke briefly. Laughed. He had the same smile. It was like those 8 years hadn't even passed. It was the same old homie. He was cussing out his girl the way he used to cuss us out. We promised to hang out eventually. I was just looking at a FB chat between us. Trading addresses. We were apparently going to hang out on a Saturday.
It didn't happen.
He was the first one of us to smash a female. The first one of us to go to middle, and then high school. He was the first one of us to make it out of the ghetto. The first one of us to conceive a child of his own.
And now the first one of us to die. He's gone. Just like that.
He was born in 1990. He was 24. Too young. Way too young.
I messaged his baby's mother and fiance on Facebook, and gave her a call the next day. Long story short he had a heard condition, apparently. So he died. Just like that. 24 years on Earth, and then just taken away because hey you've got a heart condition. What?
This ***** codified my childhood. Partly because of him and my other friends, I didn't even realize I was living in the ghetto. Kids in the suburbs CAN'T have had as much fun as we did.
I don't even understand how I'm handling this. I don't think my best friend is handling this well. Nobody would handle something like this well. I haven't cried yet, though I've hit the brink a couple of times. The past couple of nights, weird dreams. Visions of him. What man has visions of another man? You may as well call him daddy. IDK man. He's gone.
Flashbacks on flashbacks on flashbacks. Kings Plaza. Tilden Park. Did anyone else used to go to Tilden Park and play ball or swing on those goofy *** swings or get harassed by dealers or whatever? The movie theater at Kings Plaza. My pops took all of us there to see some goofy *** movie that I can't remember. I think it was Dr. Doolittle 2.
Life is short, man. We're just the universe making a limited, independent observation of itself. But there's no telling when we have to go back. When we're no longer allotted our independence.
Is there a God? Did God take away my friend for a reason? Why put him here just to take him away 20 years later?
I'm going to stop typing now.
Life is short, man. Do what you can. Let's all do what we can.
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