Conservation to Myself/ Reflecting
I cannot get caught “out there” next time. Hell, am I losing my mind? I don’t want it to be a next time. I have to move a lot more responsibly. I can’t worry about the people who are trying to knock my new hustle either. I have a family to take care of. If I was of no importance they wouldn’t even mention my name. Prison and hard times are not at the end of this road. This path I am choosing is sure to put a smile on my family’s face. Breaking the bank might even be a byproduct. Everyone knows that there is nothing wrong with that. I understand my struggles so all my success will be appreciated.
I can remember back to sitting in the county jail extremely depressed about everything. I remember being able to stand up and touch both walls in my cell. I remember the wool blanket, travel size shampoo, soap, lotion. And tiny meals too, or were they travel size too? I remember using the bathroom with the open bars. I remember watching the TV with little to no reception. I remember the constant noise all day and night and I remember taking a shower in a space that both of my shoulders could not fit in. The shower head would remind you of any typical water fountain in America. I remember having only four sets of white undergarments and having to wash my clothes in the toilet and sink with the same soap I used to wash up with. I remember rationing out my deodorant so it would last me the whole week because the travel size wasn’t nearly enough. I remember.
Understand my struggle so you can respect my hustle. I am never coming back here, believe that. Never, I am cool on this. It is first-class living from the day I get out. I WILL NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS, EVER AGAIN. That goes for communication, personal relationships, housing, education, friendships, and travel arrangements. Everything. I have the fire in my eyes.