I woke up. Mom by my side.

The Stories Told – Traveling Trails 22

Listen to They Call Us Bad Cuz We Brown by ICT aka MAKAVENNA on #SoundCloud
https://on.soundcloud.com/hqbpZ

There was a tube inserted under my left rib, apparently taking out dirty blood and replacing it with clean blood. There were tubes on my arms and my nose from what I noticed at that moment. I couldn’t really talk.

The doctors said I was in serious complications because I caught pneumonia. The person on the other side of the room behind the curtain began coughing. Somehow I overheard by someone that he had been stabbed on his ribs with an ice pick. At the moment I was laying there, I did not know what an ice pick looked like. All I heard is that he was lucky to be alive but he was having blood leaking into lungs. He was having complications. I felt bad for him. In fact, he was the first person since I woke up, whose pain as if I saw it and felt it myself for a brief moment as I overheard the story.

The horror of getting stabbed with an ice pick looked so vivid in my mind. This created complications for me. See, I had just caught pneumonia after being stapled back up on the neck and patched up from a stab wound towards my heart, my vertebral artery and a lesser fatal wound on my left shoulder. How did this happen, I do not remember. I can recall fuzzy details of how it happened. Bits and pieces of information I ha obtained from the entire incident.

I was in high school and had a job at McDonalds in Memorial City. This is the person my parents chose to see, even though the person I was lived with so much anger and trauma that was never addressed. This was before being left for dead. Betrayed by friends, betrayed by authorities. I was an ethnic problem resolving itself.

Only… I didn’t die!!!!

Live to tell and I bare the scar well. I was given another opportunity in life and I live it everyday like the day that I died and came back to life the next morning. Meaning I live to the fullest, like me or not. Agree with me or not. I have been given a second chance in life and I told my story here

https://poetizer.com/book/f143f586-90b6-42cc-883c-cb4ca5c13405

The cost of the poetry book I wrote after going through surgery and surviving so many things. So much trauma, so much pain. Seeing friends and hearing about friends being killed, murdered, overdosed and incarcerated through the years.

I rejected therapy and they still want to put me in a mental facility. But I’ve survived and my instincts have told me otherwise. My own parents might not like my style but I have come this far and will continue to be me whether they agree. Because I have died and given a second chance as life. “Suffered through the years. And shed so many tears” like Tupac said on his song Shed So Many Tears in his album Me Against The World.

What do you think went through my mind when somebody tried to kill me and I was living a nightmare thinking the helicopters were above me as I lay in a pool of blood but it was just the a/c unit making noise. Who asked what was really going through my mind when I needed my mother to walk me to the restroom to take a piss. When I talked it was a whisher because my throat was stapled and needed to heal. The tube that was taken out of me was the most painful thing that I could remember, that had to be constantly cleaned and patched back up.

Listen to Words Of Wisdom (Edited) by ICT aka MAKAVENNA on #SoundCloud
https://on.soundcloud.com/MwSox

I’ve wrote poetry books that turned into songs that I can still listen to and pass on to my kids, and their kids and their kids kids. I started this process when I was a kid after being stabbed four times. This was only the beginning of my story as a survivor. I do not choose to live the victim’s story. I tell a hero’s journey and everything I have done has been with my best intentions to warn others of the realities of life. Of the fact that if you do not pay attention to your kids, they could be in danger and many realize when it is too late that all the signs were there.

But I listen to children now and hear how they feel abandoned and I cannot help many people directly but indirectly I am telling my story of look at me and what I have done, what I have survived. It might not be a clean and shining ornament of a life story I share but it is a rose that grew in the cracks of the concrete.

There are so many what ifs in my mind but I do not dwell on them because I am content with all that I have gone through to today. Everyday I die and celebrate life when I rise a new day. Most days feel the same but I am not afraid of change. There are times to shine and time to grind. Time to plot, plan, strategize. Time to meditate and ask questions. There is time to write and time to act.

Sometimes it is time to live below ones means. That does not mean that I am completely bonkers and broke as a joke. No. I am analyzing the next calculated steps. I’m taking a breath. Taking actions towards what’s next. Feeling blessed I never rest. I might not get paid when I am actively working like others get paid at the moment, but being an entrepreneur creates many challenges and sometimes the losses take longer than a year to recover. I just need time to breath. I’ve been trying to recover all my life. Currently I am on a mission to learn how to fly. I am a writer and an artist.

#AlexAirbrushLuna