Chereads / Old Journals of a Millennial. Volume 2. / Chapter 16 - Chapter 15. "Driving me mad."

Chapter 16 - Chapter 15. "Driving me mad."

Hindsight is stupid.

Of course, we know better AFTER we've been through the shit.

Well...typically.

Some of us don't learn from the past until it bites us right on the ass.

For as long as I can remember I've struggled with being quixotic as fuck when it came to certain people... 

Even now this plaques me, you know? 

I love far too deeply, and it often leaves me hurt and disappointed...

One lesson that I never seemed to be able to learn from was letting myself love unconditionally to the point where it blinds me.

Bah...

rambling again lol.

Hey, don't stay where you are not wanted, folks.

Keep that in mind as you navigate life, yeah?

Enjoy.

 

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January 23rd, 2012.

Journal #015.

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Well, I'm 23 years old.

I really JUST got hit by that fact today while talking to my little brother and sisters.

Weird right?!!

I'M FUCKING 23!!!

I'm not old, yet I'm older than I was.

It's just a weird feeling. A feeling that I really need to act more mature and gown up than I do now...

So I've hatched a plan and I will not relent from it! 

My grand plan is to save starting February 3rd.

150.00 to 200.00 a paycheck till May 4th!

At that rate of pay, I should have 1200.00 to 1400.00 saved up and I will move out of this dogged, white-ridden place for good!

I grow wary of this place more and more each day...

These creatures are driving me mad and just the aura of this place...

The love is faded...and I miss my home.

The rough, dirty Southside.

The struggles...

The real life.

I need that.

To be strong...

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Being 23 years old was weird for me.

Having a kid on the way was making my mind a weirder place than usual, and I was in a mental space where parties and gaming and meeting new people were the most prominent things for me.

I didn't mind not doing those things if it meant I would get to be a father.

I was never super big on drinking anyway, and parties would come and go until I was simply too old to party, or fully grown out of such things.

I think that being perceived as mature was what was getting to me the most.

The pressure of it versus actually having to mature would be more accurate I suppose.

I didn't care (and still don't) so much about what everyone around me thought in that regard, I just wanted to be a good role model for my future child. I knew when to be serious when it was needed, I just didn't tend to take life in general too seriously up until that point.

I paid whatever bills I had and such, but I never cared to save or invest.

I was never really taught this trait as a kid, and it haunts me to this very day as I live between checks.

Maybe not having...

Never mind.

A different story. 

The "dogged-white" things were actually two things lol.

Firstly, the dogs...

The damn dogs.

They were allowed to do anything they wanted, and I could not stand to share that environment with them. 

Secondly, the area (neighborhood) that I was staying in at that time was very much suburban, with me being the only Black person in existence outside of the random sojourner who would drive through via the main street. 

I grew up on the Southside of Milwaukee in Wisconsin lol 

I was accustomed to the struggle.

I lived and longed for it.

It was, and very much still is in my blood.

Comfort and luxury never sat well with me.

A bit of comfort, yes. But a lot like...opulence? 

I can't explain how home will always be home.

How I will always buy generic brands versus name brands simply due to having grown up in poverty. 

How oatmeal is better than no meal.

If you get it, you get it.

I was often made to feel ungrateful for things or for wanting to go back to that "lesser" environment when I simply just was uncomfortable in their world and couldn't phantom the level of stability that they had.

I hated that I would be invited to places that I couldn't afford, only to have my bill paid for.

Things like that killed me inside not only because I couldn't afford it on my own, but because there were times when people would simply do things for me just to be able to weaponize it later or hang it over my head.

It sucked being the "Broke Black Guy" in the group, even if the words were never spoken aloud. 

But alas, Y'all don't want to hear all of that lol.

Don't let me drive you away!

Just read the journal entries and skip this introspective shit lol.

See you soon folks.

-Redd.