Dear Family (Part 5)

Dear Family,

What it did?!! That’s my new greeting. I wonder if someone already thought of that? I know someone already thought of “What it do?” but I don’t think anyone has came up with “What it did?” Someone please get that greeting copyrighted for me under code 21.03, category “Ridiculous Ghetto Greetings.” Please spell my name correctly as the founder and creator of “What it did?” Also protect “What it diddle?”, “What it doo doo?” and “What it decided?” My question is: What is the “it” in all this?

We all want to know what “it” do, or did, or does, but the “it” is the mystery. Is the “it” a hamster, or somebody’s goldfish? We should be more clear and say something like, “What the hamster did?” That way the person can either answer, “Well, I don’t have a hamster” or “How the fuck did you know I had a hamster?” Then you can say, “No man! That’s just a greeting. Just say, ‘He be chillin in the cheese’.” Life would be much easier that way.

Alrighty, then. I can tell this will be one of my more intellectual letters. Actually, this is a letter that includes a letter I wrote to a young man out of Utah. His letter will be first and then my response. I did this same thing with a young lady named Cari except I didn’t include her letter. I also forgot to include a Cold Forty after responding to Cari. Therefore I shall write you a Cold Forty and put it at the end of my letter, which is really a response to Luis’s letter, which both letters are a part of your letter as I honor my bi-weekly letter that Incandesio volunteered to transcribe so we letter, I mean let her. Uh, remind me not to write you guys this late again.

Luis’s Letter To Me

Dear Carlos,                                                                                                    2/18/2012

How you been man?

My name is Luis I’m 13 and I’m from Utah. I know that’s a long ways to Texas but anyways I’m writing this letter to let you know I’m your biggest fan you’ll ever have. I know you hear that everyday man but I think I’m like you in a way. I grew up with no father, I got held back in the 6th grade. I got kicked out of school and I just got out of Juvenile Detention Center about 2 weeks ago. Anyways man I just think it’s fucked up that they gave you 45 years for some shit you didn’t do.
I got Free S.P.M. posters all over my room I even got some shirts too. Anyways man I hope you get this letter man. If you have time to write me back hit me up. I hope I get a letter from you.
Sincerely Luis,
P.S. If you write me back a
letter sign your name on another
piece of paper.
Hope to hear from you soon.

My Response

Luis,

Thank you for your letter. Your love and support mean the world to me.
I wish I could answer all the people that write me, everytime they write me, but it’s just not possible.
But one thing I try to do is at least write someone who write me for the first time. So pay attention to this letter because I might not be able to write you another.

The reason you’re always in trouble is because you were raised in a lot of pain. It’s no one’s fault, so you can’t blame anyone. You don’t know what kind of pain your father was raised in, so you don’t know why he wasn’t equipped with the love to be a better father. We can’t judge anyone in this world because when people are fucked up, mean, shitty, cold, sorry, there’s always a reason why. Usually it’s because something fucked up, mean, shitty, cold or sorry was a part of their upbringing. You seem like a smart boy, and you’re the same age as my son, so I’m writing you as if you were my own.

What happens when people get raised in pain, and pain has many faces, is that they somehow become addicted to that pain. They don’t really feel like they’re addicted, but the addiction is so deep that it’s hard to see. But that person will always be in trouble because trouble is what their addiction needs. They’re addicted to the risk, the danger, the drama of being bad. People raised in storms, grow up chasing storms. I heard one person say “The burnt child loves the fire.” They expect bad things from people, from life, and whatever you expect to happen, you’ll create for yourself. But your expectation levels were set when you were just a baby.

The first five years of your life is the time when your expectation levels and definition of normal is set. Expecting bad things causes you to look out for bad things. When you’re looking for a certain thing, you’ll miss the other things, like the good things in life. You’ll miss all the blessings you have because you’re too busy looking out for the bad shit.

If you had been raised in peace and happiness and serenity and people that spoke in kind tones and handled their problems with patience and love, then your expectation levels would be totally different. You’d expect people to be kind, patient, peaceful, and when people weren’t those things, you would think, “Man, something is wrong with this person. Let me stay away from them.” And you continue living and expecting good things until you find more and more of what you were raised in.

Sadly, many times the opposite happens. You run into someone very kind, very patient, very peaceful and you think, “There’s something weird about this dude. He’s definitely not my kind of people.” What we were raised with is what we were made with, and it’s almost impossible to change. It takes so much hard work to overcome a negative first five years of life. Because you’re not fighting what you learned, you’re fighting your very instincts.

So how can we hate people when it’s not their fault what they were made with? What I’m telling you, little brother, is it’s not your fault that you’re fucking up. It’s no one’s fault. The people who raised you did the best they could with the abilities they had. But here’s the deal: Now, you’re fucking up and headed towards a sad outcome. All these people in prison went through all the shit you’re going through right now. Juvenile, Fucking up in school, talking back to adults, being disrespectful to their mom, causing pain to themselves and those who love them, all that shit. You’re just like many other people that screw their lives up, and either fall in a cage or a casket, or work some sorry ass job and live a sorry ass life. I’m not being mean, Luis, I’m just telling you where you’re going. It doesn’t take a fortune teller to see which kids are throwing their lives way. The biggest problem is that these kids don’t give a fuck. Not only young people, but adults, too.

When I was young, I was the same way and I carried that attitude into adulthood. My mom would tell me, “Son, you’re messing up your life.” And I would say, “I don’t give a damn.” I didn’t care about having a fucked up life because I was addicted to things being fucked up, so it was no big deal. But it is a big deal, and only you can save yourself, homie. You have to someway, somehow find the love for yourself to start caring for yourself. I know that you really don’t give a fuck, but I’m telling you that you’re worth caring about.

You’re a beautiful person, and you can do beautiful things in this life. You can educate your mind and make it powerful. You can live in a beautiful home, with a beautiful wife, and raise awesome kids. A beautiful home doesn’t mean it has to be big and brick and swimming pools and marble staircases. A beautiful home is one that is decorated with the most priceless décor, the décor of peace and warmth and love and happiness. But only you can give yourself the best, no one can do it for you. You can either ruin your life, or save it.

You’re right, me and you were a lot alike, and even when I made money with my music, I was still very poor, because I continued to live in pain. I continued to hurt my wife, my mom, and I was never around for my kids. But check this out: When you love someone, you don’t like to see them get hurt. So, guess why you keep hurting those who love you; it’s because when you hurt them it gives you the pain you seek. You’re really doing it to inflict pain on yourself! I didn’t want happiness, I wanted pain because the addiction was still there. Money doesn’t help. So even though I drove around in fancy cars, and lived in a fancy house, I was still poor. Because people that are rich means that they have truckloads of happiness. Don’t ever think a lot of money makes you rich. It doesn’t.

What makes you rich is being kind, and patient, and peaceful, and forgiving and all the powerful things that will build a beautiful world for you. But a lot of people are more comfortable when shit’s all screwed up. They aren’t interested in happiness. People just aren’t comfortable around strangers, and for many people, peace and happiness are strangers. But you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do to create happiness. Then you’ve got to get used to it. Learn to love and appreciate it. It might feel boring at first. It might not be as fulfilling as running from the cops and breaking your mom’s heart, but just make yourself get used to happiness.

You deserve the best, little homie, and the best is peace and warmth and love. I hope you’re smart enough to understand what I’m telling you. Then, I hope you’re strong enough to do it. It’s easy to be a fool. It’s easy to end up in a casket or a cage. It’s easy to do wrong, but the strongest, bravest people on this planet grow the nuts to take care of themselves, and those who love them. And when it’s time, they can also help other people who need it. Any dumbass can hurt people, and be mean to people, but the strong uplift people. You’ve got the strength to do it, but you’ve got to start fighting for yourself. The big thing right now is school. School will build you into an awesome person, especially once you get to college. But first things first, and if you’ve got homework today, that’s a good place to start.

With All My Love,
Carlos


Family!
What the hamster did! (You know, that could really take off.)
Alright, that’s that. As always, I hope that these truths will help you in your own journey, or helping someone in theirs. I encourage your comments and/or questions on this. Now, we shall pop the top of an ice cold 40 and be refreshed, or possibly offended.
Con Todo Mi Amor,
Losy

Another Cold Forty

"Where Lions Play With Lambs"

Syrup in a tall cup, thick yella dolled up

When I bust millis like Daffy they will all duck

All I do is call bluffs, how you gon scare a ghost

swimmin with the polar bears, ice up in my varicose

everybody share a toast, "To the streets that married Los!,

Swangin on two pair of vogues, showin naked ass while wearin clothes!"

here I come, there I go, you see me but I'm outa sight

ya'll remember when I sold dope on Sylvia's mountain bike

niggaz know I clown da mike, found the weed then found the light

"Hold up! That was dead wrong!" I don't know, it sounded right

Rambo taught me how to fight, Janey taught me how to fly

Jesus taught me how to live and Grandpa taught me how to die

with his grandkids all around, then he took his last breath

stepped into the afterlife, where lions play with lamb let's

gravitate on memories, before my tan Dickies sagged

before I bought that quarter ounce and started on my wicked path

never meant to hurt or kill, never knew his perfect will

torn between this life and death, feels like righteous versus real

Bible is my hope'n'light, wonder why they wrote it like

today would be our last, well, I guess ya never know, it might

gangsta ways, blowin jays, got more balls dan-da-Oakland A's

Teacher told my mom, "He's the highest kid with the lowest grades.

Mrs. Coy, ya son is slower than the school speed limit

Farts in class, points at me, then he yells, 'She did it!'

Yesterday his breath was like a malt liquor brewery.

Asked'em what he drank, all he said was, 'maybe two or three.'

Sure as I am Capricorn we don't want'em back no more.

Maybe you can get'em hired at some little random store."

Then my mom finally said, "No, he couldn't keep a job.

Once I went out of town, he wouldn't even feed the dog.

Came back a week later, what I saw was soberin;

a full blooded Rottweiler turned into a Doberman!"

They was just talkin bout me like I wasn't even there

so I got so pissed and gave both of them the evil stare

mom took a swing at me, teacher hit me from the back

then I kicked'em both with a double clap jumpin jack

momma hadda swolen eye, teacher hadda bloody nose

still they came rushin I was bobbin, weavin, duckin blows

crowd of students gathered round, most of them was in my class

people that I thought were my friends, yellin, "Kick his ass!!!"

                                                                            (laughing!)