his hand at me (after accepting my coffee money). But if I include cigarette money, I’m knock-down drag out gorgeous and am his best friend. It’s hilarious. I mean, stories can go on and on. It’s like daily bench sits with Forrest Gump-listening to all his stories (that seem unbelievable, yet, they were all true).
Just call me “Jenny” (from the block).
They: “Forrest” (all of them):
I feel kind of proud when they see me out and tap my shoulder or catch me at the library and refer to me by name and wait on a hug with the familiarity of an old friend [that they haven’t seen in a month or a while]. I can hear my own self in my own head right now as I type this, saying what I always say when they reach out to me and say: “Hey Ang!” and me: “Hey Big-Guy!”
While conversing with them-the sneers, the stares and the “ew” looks from “normal people” observing our obvious social and socioeconomic contradicting realities at a glance doesn’t bother me at all, because many of [these “normal” people] couldn’t even relate or compare to their conversations and having truly lived life-I mean…those people have stories and personalities that will astonish you—if they trust you enough to talk to you. I’ve even found myself in positions where I’ve had to pull some of those “normal” aside and defend some of them to these “normal” people by sharing with them, how genius, brilliant, smart, intelligent, that man really is-he just needs a bath and a meal is all-don’t judge him. He’s actually smarter than probably you and me—is pretty much what my spiel and summaries have been.
These people that I speak of have been so smart and some, so prideful and dignified yet poor, but have told me stories and have shared things with me that no one all dressed up, “normal” rich, famous, merely “doing well for themselves” could even light a candle to, and I have yet to be impressed [in comparison to]-even from the ones who are mentally incapacitated that have started off telling me true stories that by end, I could tell end up being true lies have are still not judged in my listening eyes because I look at it as something that
Spitfire .
Media Maestro .
Writing Rhinoceros .
