Poor people live

Living in poverty sometimes makes me sad.

Understanding that poverty can be looked at as both absolute and relative,

I can say, “relatively speaking” that this shit is for the birds.

I live in Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love.

A place that is like its own little world in its own.

Especially in the trenches of it all.

On a daily, I witness so much illegal activity that I turn my head to cus I feel incriminated even watching.

I be all like:

But that’s cus I understand that it’s all survival.

Whether they selling the drugs outside the Chinese store.

Or buying pampers with their WIC checks.

I get it.

I vividly remember a day taking my son to school, and while at a red light, I watched this lady shoot heroin into her neck.

With a needle.

Ouch.

But what’s probably more of an ouch is the internal pain one must be experiencing to reach that point.

Living under a bridge, sharing a broken tent and sharing needles.

Which by the way is a no-go, if that is your type of thing. Needle sharing is one way that HIV is transmitted. Depending on where you live, they may have a needle exchange. ❤️

But, in my world- every other intersection there is a different person standing with a sign reading all of their troubles and why you should spare some change.

Cars honking.

Graffiti on all the walls.

And it’s like people just don’t believe in trash cans.

The whole world’s an ashtray – Eddie Kane

I guess.

But what’s the craziest of it all, is that most of us do what I admitted to earlier …

… we turn our heads.

And keep it moving.

We learn how to function in the dysfunction.

That is, until someone with a lot of money comes in and wants to “clean up the neighborhood” and rename it and shit.

Gentrify.

I mean, bring order to the chaos.

So now, next to the lady shooting up in her neck is a man in a business suit 🎶 making his way downtown 🎶 on public transportation.

And everything is cool.

Y’all poor asses better get out the way.

Nah, matter of fact.

Stay right there.

Cus we coming with our rollerblades and German Shepherds.

And then it becomes sort of like you are watching your dream life be lived right before your eyes by someone else.

Tip: Support your community so it has a leg to stand on.

I have enough faith and hope to know that these days will one day be a memory.

And that I will be able to reach back and help, with a deep understanding – because I get it.

But the process is exhausting.

Especially on the mental.

We keep on functioning and flourishing in these messed up environments like it ain’t nothing.

Cus we the bomb.

And resilient.

And shit.

What not to do: Don’t ever give up on you. Do you know who you are?!!?!

It’s not about the amount of money or material things you have.

It’s a mindset.

And once you get that jawn, they ain’t going to be able to stop you!

Then YOU’LL be the one in the business suit funding programs to help the lady with the needle in her neck.

And we all win.

+ Ci Ci +