My Facebook feed is overwhelmed with posts about Kobe and his daughter and the shock/pain of loss in a way we don’t normally see.
Twenty years as a player for the Lakers helped him earn a place in the hearts of LA in a way I haven’t seen since Magic.
People make fun of my city, claim we are all plastic, superficial and all sorts of other thing but we don’t care.
They don’t understand any more than the foolish few who try to suggest we don’t have real fans. We do, it just takes more.
We’re a city with a million different opportunities and dreams you can follow. That mythical weather means we’re no limited to one type of activity so we can do almost anything the whole year round.
Maybe I haven’t lived there in a while, but my LA roots always make me forget that I can’t expect certain things to hold true here.
And so we come to this moment where life reminds us that it doesn’t care if you are famous, rich or poor.
It will cut the thread whenever and wherever.
Got an idea for a new story that I have been playing around putting down in detail. Might use this and write about the red dress or maybe about the blue.
Might go an entirely different direction, don’t know and won’t know until I put pen to paper and let go.
Cuz there is a part of me that wants to let go of all restraint, put on some songs and start going until I can’t go any longer.
But the thing is, that fire that burns inside and the feelings that flow so freely push me beyond the limits and wear others out.
Had a moment this evening where I was reminded that you might beat Old Scratch at his game, but you can’t kill him.
You can escape his clutches but he keeps coming and you don’t have a choice but to keep fighting.
So when I saw him coming I did my best to give him the kind of beating that would make him think twice about taking another shot but it didn’t work.
Gave him a pretty damn good kick in the teeth, but he didn’t care.
So it is time to gear up, lock and load and go back into the trenches.
And that is what I am going to do.