if you ever feel bad about yourself, just remember this one time in my english class, we were writing horror stories and one of the girls wrote “it was friday the 13th, the night before halloween” for her opening sentence
"I’ve got a whole stack of books in my cart. Most of them are advance copies. I know a place where they get thrown out."
“How many books have you read?”
“So why are you homeless?”
“I’ve tried to work a job a bunch of times. But then I get sad, and then I get high, and things fall apart.”
Until it happened, I really did believe no black person would ever shoot me.
I believed that I didn’t have to fear my own community.
You know, I was like, “I represent them.
"I’m their ambassador to the world. They would never do me wrong."
There’s no religion about getting shot.
I don’t want any converts.
After getting shot, I was like,
"Shit, I don’t know who to trust."
I felt like I’m like a victim, a target.
I couldn’t even sleep at home.
People could kill me at home.
And are the police gonna come in and kill me?
You know, is there secret police?
Very Malcolm X of him.