I know you've been to jail. You also been to therapy.

Just a quick lament on keeping it real. Ok, maybe not a lament; more of a retrospective inquisition.

Get rich or die trying was a classic
Now you rich and trying to die. You's a dumb bastard

Sometimes a tough facade is essential to surviving a tough environment and/or circumstance. I can recall one article not too long ago that cited a citywide survey of teenagers and concluded somthing to the effect of them acting 'harder' than necessary because such cold personalities were key to their survival, even if they were the nicest kids on the block and behind closed doors. Even nerds have to puff their chests out at least a little bit to garner some extra cool points and deflect some criticism, bullying, and possible headaches in advance.


Yo, you wasn't real with me
Now you got to deal with me

Much like a jungle dweller's defense instincts, urban youth are poised to grow up tougher and tougher with even colder ice grill face-contorting capabilties due to the very nature of the concrete jungle that is our city's streets. So what the hell, right? Gotta bring it back to reality somehow. I know and you (should) know that for all the studies they can do, unless you wlak in the shoes of a youngster, you will never know what it's like to have a triple-decker full of odds stacked against you. For there are plenty of diamonds in the rough.

The bigger the n!gga is
The more pallbearers

So basically, this all came to mind because I came across one blog that rehashed the whole marriage and Black family article and online debate issue from a few weeks ago in which many Black women were essentially resigning themselves to a life of solitude because of the bleakness of hope for the Black family structure. Too many brothers were doing a bid, wifed up, hubby'd up, deadbeat, ugly, or wack. Well, damn...just no options out there for them, huh. But on the reals, I always love refuting that argument with the assertion that I literally know hundreds of good brothers out there doing there thing in the world repping how they should be. Some balling on a budget, others living comfortable, and a few just getting by. But in the end, they all know who they are, where they are going, and what time it is (if clueless on that one, no customer support is available here). But basically, this one sister (among many others) still held out and made clear a rebuttal similar to mine. Essentially, she was saying how Black mean are the least respected and most suspected. I wish I could find that link again or remember which blog it was.

But anyways, bringing it back full circle. We've all had our share of out-of-body experiences. Sometimes the good guys act out of character and throw a few 'bows and toss their weight around to make sure the voices get heard and heads know I'm not the one, son. We do it for respect, we do it for pride, we do it ot of necessity. Sometimes, we just wanna be a$$holes for a few minutes before returning back to earth and our ho-hum ways of living without regrets, records, and drama. Vicariously, we thump our chests and hug our nuts the same as your neighborhood thug; just with an ounce of tact and consciousness to boot.
BEcause as much as I despise violence and having to take it to there, like Chris Rock, sometimes you can understand the need to do certain things. So for all the Black women out there delusional and done with Black men, there out there yo. To the brothers who think all Black women (unless they are much odler than him. this was a real conversation) are immature and will spend endlessly, hold tight, because good women are out there. To the heads working hard and on the grind to keep their ship sailing upright and their star shining, stay on that straight and narrow no matter how much you want to sacrifice it all and wild out, because sometimes sticking with your instincts will get you far along the road of goodwill and respect.