Once again, Im back from a hiatus. For those who know me, know I like to vanish for awhile and for the ones who dont, I pop in and out, but I always come back with a good story or two. Life moves at a fast past and sometimes for me, I just cant keep up. Even being from NYC where I live my life 1 NY minute to the next at such a fast pass the rest of the world has a hard time keeping up. Even I fall behind in the rat race we call life, but some times you have to take a time out to reflect. With everyday that goes past, The Old New York I once knew is becoming further away in my rear view as I move further on down the road. Dear old friends are gone by death or jail who are New York legends who will NEVER be forgotten. But life goes on with or with out us.
As I sit idle with time on my hands away from home during the week for work, it leaves me with the voices in my head, yeah we all have em. Im not nuts, ok may be a little, but you have to be some what crazy to get through life and understand what its about and with that said let me get right to it.
Recently I/us have lost a very IMPORTANT person and I say us because he was loved by so many people and has played a BIG part in shaping the 90's as to what it was growing up in NYC. As a young kid with no home to go to, I would go to w.4th street and meet up with all the RFC heads. I felt safe and I had others to break night with. The one thing I didnt know was that I was about to take the lessons learned in the street by my mother to the next level. Now I was no dummy in the streets being that I have been in them since Im 9 years old coming from a mom who smoked crack, shot dope, popped pills and the list goes on. I was about to learn from my peers what they had learned in the street and in return teach what I knew. We were all seasoned vets by the age of 13 which I cant even fathom when I think about the things we were doing then. We were all out there in these streets hustling along side the grown men and we were just as bad as them as well. Talk slick and niggas buck 50 ya face real quick. That was not me & Im not even gonna front like it was, but I was there went shit went down and threw joints too right along side my comrades.
May my brother ARK BUTTA'S 911 rest in peace. The first to set it off and last to run. Becoming friends, rather family with him, I never knew it would be a blessing. Through him I have grown stronger by watching his actions. ARK was a man of his word and fearless. I never met anyone like him to the extent that he was. I dont think he was ever afraid a day in his life and thats the truth. He had the talk and the walk of a Old New Yorker like no other. ARK could back down 20, 30 niggas and this is no lie. Those who knew him, know Im not lying. Yo, they dont call him Mr. Go Hard for no reason. He went harder then anyone I knew. You would be in a club and he would rack bottles, yes more then 1 from behind the bar. Then ARK would son the Mexicans who worked in there to bring ice, juice and glasses so we could pop them bottles in the club. Mean while ARK had 3, 4 stacks in his pocket. Its just what he did.
So through my brother ARK, I learned a lot. Especially how not to be afraid and stand up for my self no matter the situation. ARK you are deeply missed, but far from forgotten. There are too many of us around to let Ark's name die. ARK you have made your mark on life and have carved an unforgotten legacy out of life with your orange box cutter. I know your in a better place roaming free, but by being selfish, I and many others wish you were still here even if you are running everyone over in your wheel chair. Hold it down up there for us along side Harold, Sedi, Casper and the others we have lost.
Time is too short, dont let it pass you by because it will. Let the ones you know and love, know that you love them before its too late. If you knew ARK, you know he would want you to go harder then ever in your life and thats in a good way, as his sister would put it. Forget about him in the streets and what he has done. He has inspired friends to get their G.E.D. and so many other good things to become better people. So remember him by going hard and sharing the stories you may have. It should not have taken his death to make me write again, But when one door closes, another opens. Trying times and adversity is what makes you a stronger person as long as you push through and believe. So in the words of ARK BUTTA'S... "GO HARD".
P.S. the Picture is not mine. It does ARK justice so Im using it. Props to the person who did it.
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