story

It is Sunday.

I know a pastor from way back in the day

Today he’s going to make an announcement

He’s going to bring me on stage

I wrote out what he should say…I sent it to him and he made some adjustments. And this is the final draft:

I’ve known this man for many years. He’s noble. He’s honest. He’s a man of the people. And he is a pillar of our community. Many of you know him already. He has some flyers with his websites on them. He’d like to pass them out to you all, if it’s not too much trouble.

Then it’s my part.

Like he said, you all know who I am. Many of you know me for other things. But now you will know me for this as well. I hope you guys can relate, to some extent. God bless you all. And Pastor Patrice, thank you. You’ve always been good to me.


*Me and Pastor Patrice hug on stage, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other*

Everyone claps. Everyone is feeling good. It’s a wonderful Sunday.

*I pass out my flyers then I take a seat*

I see some people already looking it up on their phones

I hear scattered yelps of: oh my God, wow, that’s so true, Jose!

And people are turning to look at me

Hey let’s all pay attention to the sermon, everyone. There will be plenty of time to read my writing later.

Jose, I think I’m in love with you, says one fine lady.

Ok. Sweetheart. That’s fine. But you gotta pay attention to the sermon right now.

Another woman professes her love for me. Even a guy!

I’m like, alright. I get up and leave.

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Journal

The Last Thing Before I Die

It’s funny…the only way I’ll stop writing is if I die. So I’m curious to know what will be the last thing I write before death. I would like to come back to life just to see what the last thing I wrote was. Was it something funny? Was it something deep, from the heart? Or was it something, something else?

That’s an interesting thing to think about. What will be the last thing I write before I die?

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story

Imprisoned

When I got to jail
I had to share a cell with a humongous guy
I’m like damn…hey what’s up I’m Jose
Hey, what’s up man. Top bunk is yours.

But what if I fall off. I might hurt myself.
You think I give a fuck?
Tell you what, man. I’m actually a poet. That’s what I’m in here for – poetry.
You don’t say

Yup. And if you give me the bottom bunk I’ll write you one poem a day

Actually…that sounds pretty cool. Can you write one about my family? I really miss them.

He sat on the bed and started sobbing

I’m like, that’s ok. You’ll see them again when you get out

No. I won’t.

Why not. You’re not getting out?

No. I killed them.

Excuse me, guard. Can you put me in isolation?

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Press Conference

2nd Question

Jose…how are you feeling today?

I don’t know man. I’m not feeling any particular way. Umm I am happy that many people are now reading my writing. And we’ll see what the verdict is. Do more people than not agree that this is what life is like for them.

But wait if I could just interrupt for a moment…some of the stuff you say is just plain off putting. Do you see any value in that? I don’t understand so if you could just –

Yeah. Well, umm…if people find what I write off putting, so be it. I just hope those people can compartmentalize and appreciate other aspects of my writing. And really I just hope for empathy for both the good and bad.

Wow that may be alot to ask for, sir.

Ok. Next question.

Looking back on everything that’s happened…do you have any regrets?

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Press Conference

1st Question

Jose, umm, what would you be doing if you weren’t a writer?

Umm…honestly I think I would have been a farmer…yeah most likely…I like to farm. I farm good. I’m just blessed, man, that this writing shit presented itself as an opportunity to improve my surroundings and get out of the situation I was in. I don’t think I would have achieved the same success through farming. But I mean…that’s probably what I would have ended up doing if it wasn’t for writing..

Thank you.

Next question.

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