We all wandering men with lost spirits

And I know my sins won't get me to the promised land
And for eternal life my chances ain't promising
But I'm gonna find a way to shake these sinner heathens
And take these inner demons out my life, I promise man
-Little Brother, "Sinners"

it's a wonder what life events remain forever etched in your memory and those that gradually fade.

my family (all cliques) is pretty fond of having large gathering to celebrate whatever holiday, birthday, graduation, or anniversary just so happens to coincide with food being on the stove.

take last week for example. yet another wonderful thanksgiving holiday where we broke bread, dapped each other up with firm pounds, and sang and danced and enjoyed the night with our peoples. my peoples. (shoulder lean)

and it's hard to distinguish any one instance when i've been told to be careful before heading out on the road. or before yet another long road trip on these east coast highways. i'm always down for some driving. i like being my own captain and in control of my voyage. in control of my own destiny, i guess. (shoulder shrug)

You think you know what's coming? You don't have a clue.

about a dozen of us rolled out last Friday to the movie to see Denzel's latest blockbuster, Deja Vu. I hadn't even paid much attention to any previews or reviews of it until that very day. Yet, it's premise did intrigue me. And i am glad that i went. Because not only was it a very good movie, but it is sticking in the back of my brain like one of those old-school theater marquees with the flashing bulbs.

There are people that religiously read newspaper obituaries. I am twisted in debating back and forth not only who should write mine, but what it should say. Naturally, that will all be determined by what I do with my life whether it is of substance or not. Regardless, there are people who will (hopefully) mourn my departure and wish that I were still there. And for all of my years, it's a maddeningly eerie feeling to one week be writing about hugging your family members tighter and longer than before and then then the next week knowing they won't be around to break bread with you the following year.

One of my homegirls, T da G, wrote something a while back about how some people say Peace, but don't really mean it. It made me value the word and phrase much more than I had previously. So now when I do invoke it, it is with specific intent and purpose.

And now, instead of casually shrugging off someone's conversation-ending quip to call them when I get home to let 'em know I'm alive and well; I'll have to be mindful that I'll never truly know when it's my time to go. So I'll drive carefully and call when I get home just because it's that long-distance hug in lieu of the tight embraces that we seek out for solace. There's no telling when one hug may be the last hug.

Reast in Peace, Uncle Kenny.