24. [excerpts from a memoir]
you know, maybe it's the Leo in me. leisurely, thinking that life literally provided me with enough lacerations to truly scream a story into the ether to those mentally enslaved by it (life, lie and tell me it don’t whip your ass AND feel like slavery), with a fun and interesting way to avoid the pitfalls it brings.
now, in theory, I think that sounded good, but… let’s be real. what the fuck did I really know at 24? a whole lot of nothing, but for some reason, it felt right to begin. at 33, looking back at the baby that blissfully existed without bounds before death (and a billion other things) chipped at his beautiful innocence, I realized that there were plenty of lessons that weren’t for others just yet. they were hidden away for me, at this moment. being received in real-time as this is being written.
without fear, here is the first chapter of my memoir, which I guess is still in progress?
Chapter One - A Handful
I started writing this book when I was twenty-four, by the time this is read by you, who knows what age I’ll be. A few drafts, and a few stalls in writing, I hope this makes for a book I hope you enjoy reading. Well, where do I start? By giving you an overview of what this whole thing is about… right? To give you an idea of what I think this book is going to be, let me share a few lines that i knew would “coin” the curation of characters in book form.
“At the age of twenty four, I think I have seen a lot, done a lot, and been through a lot. Its still not enough to say I can give you life instructions, but enough to share some of my experiences that may apply to your own personal situations.”
I promise this book isn’t a self-help book, a “how-to be,” or a “your life isn’t flourishing because you need to” book. I’d like to think of this book as an “Oh shit, I am not the only weird person” book. A book that’s familiar in nature and comforting to the brain. To be quite honest, I am not even sure what that previous statement really means, but maybe by the end, we’ll both understand it. I wrote this book over different periods of my life until I felt complete. There will be stories from my life, things that I find funny, and maybe a few things that made me cry at some point. Nine times out of ten, most of this is my unsolicited opinion. I hope everything written in this book moves you to share your own stories. Not enough people do that, and so I decided to. How many young, black male authors do you know? Especially from North Carolina, I am sure about none. Well, now you know me, and if you don’t... turn the page.
The first chapter of the book! Originally, I decided that this would be the chapter dedicated to giving a huge account of my hometown and what it was like growing up. I figured I was just like every other kid. I didn’t care for outside activities that much or being away from my mom for too long. (we’ll get back to that later) As a child, I was way too talkative, opinionated, and inquisitive. After my first day of kindergarten (which was on my birthday), I ran off the school bus straight through my neighbor’s yard to my mom. Excited about my day at school and obviously the future, a looming question burned in my brain. My mom embraced me from a long day of absence from her favorite child and says, “How was school Torian?” I waste no time with Mom! Can I just skip school and go straight to College?” From this point forward, I am pretty sure she knew I would be a handful. She was right. Years later here I am today writing this book, a literal handful. I’ve always been a handful. I don’t even know how to be anything else. I say what I want normally, without fear of repercussions which has landed me in a lot of shit.
Go with me…
My brother is roughly 14 years old than me. He was diagnosed with Diabetes at a fairly young age. I was at that 4-7 age when I would say whatever I thought. By this time, I mastered the art of sarcasm and was using it at every opportunity. This unfiltered conversation, paired with an early understanding of conversational sarcasm, was dangerous. A smart-mouthed little kid can make for long days and long-winded nights for a mother. So, I am stopping here to tell my momma I love her. I know she knows it. But I couldn’t write any further without putting it in book form as well.
Here’s the first shit I landed in. On a particular sunny afternoon at Dosher Memorial Hospital, I was ready to prove myself. My brother was due for a doctor's visit, and along we went. My brother, mother, and I. We enter the hospital as normal and make it back to the room as we wait vigorously. In this waiting period, my brother and I get into a normal sibling argument that carries over into the Dr.’s arrival into the room. In the middle of my sentence, the doctor walks in to hear me say, “Okay, and I’ll knock the diabetes out of you!” As you can imagine, my mom was embarrassed and gave me that infamous “don’t make me kick you in your ass” death stare. The doctor, shocked at such a response, carried the reaction I usually receive behind some of the things that fly out of my mouth. I told you, handful…
Throughout my middle and high school periods, I was out of pocket and enjoyed every minute of it. I am sure any teacher who was lucky enough to have me as a student won’t ever forget me and can agree on just how much of a handful I was. To be honest, I think my mouth became a weapon because of my small size. To make up for that, I had to have the biggest mouth.
