Flonp
Void Seeker
- Local time
- Today 6:53 PM
- Messages
- 2
- Age
- 25
(First Post here, hope its alright, if there's any problems that I don't seem to notice go ahead and let me know so that I may improve myself- thank you~!)
In Chicago today's day to day life if you walk far enough in to the ghetto you'll find more than just Gangs and Gangsters- in a small apartment among countless others there's a man that goes by 'Flonp' on the streets. He can't remember if he chose that name to seem cool or to hide the fact he was a first generation Japanese kid. Either way he grew up beside all the gangs, he saw good friends lives get extinguished in a second by the end of a Glock or SiG- a few times he's caught the wrong end of'em himself- but nowhere near as bad as the fallen young men who bleed out on the streets daily. Flonp mostly went to school cause his Father would always make sure to remind him-
"You don't want to stay here- I have no chance of getting out of this home, they have my check every week... but you? You're young, you can make it out unlike your old man. Or would you rather become a Gangster as well? You want to die like Jeremy and Gus and countless others you've cried about? Their lives were not one to envy- it should serve as a warning, my son, that you cannot stay here."
Of course Flonp knew he had to get out... but how? Being raised in the Ghetto you get a complex- a false sense of "I can make it out..." but how?! The only prospects that a young man can possible get on Chicago's Southside are low pay and most don't trust a "Gangbanger" who's just trying to rob whatever establishment you're trying to apply for. Didn't matter if it was a McDonalds or a Wal-Mart no one wanted to hire a man out of the Southside. It got to a point he couldn't eat some nights because he had no money so he did what countless others did- he sold crack, weed, meth, coke it didn't matter because at the end of the day he ate, this went on for years till one night his Father caught him trying to leave the house late at night as always to sell to a junkie just downstairs. His Father was heartbroken- not because his one and only son, his one and only family in America, was selling such terrible things... it was the fact that while the Father never gets out of the small apartment complex he saw the stains on the complex walls and sidewalks, he saw the constant News Articles saying how many died the previous nights. NO names. NO faces to the statistics. Just more bodies claimed by the streets.
They argued for only a few moments before Flonp walked out of the apartment to -"Catch a sale and make that fucking money you old ass nigga, fuck outta here with your broke ass we barely EAT~! I'm done with yo shit... I'm done." - He walked to his homeboy's house, Lucas, it was just another trap house ran by a small group of gang members who claimed Vice Lords though it was a smaller spin off and they weren't really Vice Lords just wanna be's. The sound of gunfire wasn't something to flinch at unless it was at you so when Flonp heard a few shots a few blocks over he thought nothing of it. It wasn't until he went home 3 days later that he heard the ill news.
He went in to the empty and silent apartment, thinking his Father was napping for his night shift job working at a recycle plant he just went to his room to make sure all his drugs were where he put them. After an hour of being home he was sitting in the living room, watching Cartoon Network, when a knock on the door spooked him. He got up and grabbed a 38 revolver he always kept in a dresser by the door- he didn't expect Miss Mary, another resident of the complex who was a good friend of Flonps Father.
"Oh, hey Misses Mary. Whats up?" She just stood there, looking at Flonp with tears swelling behind her old sagging eyes-
"Your Father went looking for you... he was scared you were gonna do something rash... he looked for hours... Flonp... I watched him walk in to the complex after looking an-..." her voice was breaking as the tears she tried to hold back fell with ease-
"- some Gangster Disciples stopped him... they robbed your Dad. He gave them everything in his pockets, I think, but it just wasn't enough... I watched them put a knife to his neck and-" she held her mouth closed and sobbed in front of Flonps door, almost falling to her knees. Flonp couldn't speak, his chest felt physically heavy and broken as the images ran through his head of his Father tried to respectfully tell the Disciples he had no more cash- them putting a knife to his wrinkled neck demanding more as his Father struggled to speak. The whole complex could hear Flonp yelling that night- whether it was grief or anger or both... no one wanted to know. It took Flonp months to get back in to a right state of mind to reflect on all the things his Father did for him, the better life his Father wanted him to have but couldn't give.
It took years for his Fathers death to be behind him, though it never really did stop stinging... even though he stopped selling drugs and stopped Gang-banging all together he felt immense amounts of guilt. Even as he put himself through school and college, even though he got a job doing IT work for a Law Firm and repaired all the near-by schools computer systems that the High Schooler's would never come to respect or care for even though he did all that by himself, mostly, he couldn't stop the constant guilt he felt late at night after long days of work. This just lead to more internal conflict inside his mind and lead to random outburst of anguish- sometimes making him have to leave whatever current work he was doing and run for a bathroom stall to cry and tell himself-
"-it's your fault... you just HAD to do it... why? Why?!" the only thing that kept him sane was the fact he knew his Father loved him and wouldn't want to see his son like so. He 'sucked it up' and continues on with his Day to Day life- one that didn't have many real friends or any relationships, meaningful ones at least. Maybe he'll find some friends or maybe he'll just work and work as his Father did...
In Chicago today's day to day life if you walk far enough in to the ghetto you'll find more than just Gangs and Gangsters- in a small apartment among countless others there's a man that goes by 'Flonp' on the streets. He can't remember if he chose that name to seem cool or to hide the fact he was a first generation Japanese kid. Either way he grew up beside all the gangs, he saw good friends lives get extinguished in a second by the end of a Glock or SiG- a few times he's caught the wrong end of'em himself- but nowhere near as bad as the fallen young men who bleed out on the streets daily. Flonp mostly went to school cause his Father would always make sure to remind him-
"You don't want to stay here- I have no chance of getting out of this home, they have my check every week... but you? You're young, you can make it out unlike your old man. Or would you rather become a Gangster as well? You want to die like Jeremy and Gus and countless others you've cried about? Their lives were not one to envy- it should serve as a warning, my son, that you cannot stay here."
Of course Flonp knew he had to get out... but how? Being raised in the Ghetto you get a complex- a false sense of "I can make it out..." but how?! The only prospects that a young man can possible get on Chicago's Southside are low pay and most don't trust a "Gangbanger" who's just trying to rob whatever establishment you're trying to apply for. Didn't matter if it was a McDonalds or a Wal-Mart no one wanted to hire a man out of the Southside. It got to a point he couldn't eat some nights because he had no money so he did what countless others did- he sold crack, weed, meth, coke it didn't matter because at the end of the day he ate, this went on for years till one night his Father caught him trying to leave the house late at night as always to sell to a junkie just downstairs. His Father was heartbroken- not because his one and only son, his one and only family in America, was selling such terrible things... it was the fact that while the Father never gets out of the small apartment complex he saw the stains on the complex walls and sidewalks, he saw the constant News Articles saying how many died the previous nights. NO names. NO faces to the statistics. Just more bodies claimed by the streets.
They argued for only a few moments before Flonp walked out of the apartment to -"Catch a sale and make that fucking money you old ass nigga, fuck outta here with your broke ass we barely EAT~! I'm done with yo shit... I'm done." - He walked to his homeboy's house, Lucas, it was just another trap house ran by a small group of gang members who claimed Vice Lords though it was a smaller spin off and they weren't really Vice Lords just wanna be's. The sound of gunfire wasn't something to flinch at unless it was at you so when Flonp heard a few shots a few blocks over he thought nothing of it. It wasn't until he went home 3 days later that he heard the ill news.
He went in to the empty and silent apartment, thinking his Father was napping for his night shift job working at a recycle plant he just went to his room to make sure all his drugs were where he put them. After an hour of being home he was sitting in the living room, watching Cartoon Network, when a knock on the door spooked him. He got up and grabbed a 38 revolver he always kept in a dresser by the door- he didn't expect Miss Mary, another resident of the complex who was a good friend of Flonps Father.
"Oh, hey Misses Mary. Whats up?" She just stood there, looking at Flonp with tears swelling behind her old sagging eyes-
"Your Father went looking for you... he was scared you were gonna do something rash... he looked for hours... Flonp... I watched him walk in to the complex after looking an-..." her voice was breaking as the tears she tried to hold back fell with ease-
"- some Gangster Disciples stopped him... they robbed your Dad. He gave them everything in his pockets, I think, but it just wasn't enough... I watched them put a knife to his neck and-" she held her mouth closed and sobbed in front of Flonps door, almost falling to her knees. Flonp couldn't speak, his chest felt physically heavy and broken as the images ran through his head of his Father tried to respectfully tell the Disciples he had no more cash- them putting a knife to his wrinkled neck demanding more as his Father struggled to speak. The whole complex could hear Flonp yelling that night- whether it was grief or anger or both... no one wanted to know. It took Flonp months to get back in to a right state of mind to reflect on all the things his Father did for him, the better life his Father wanted him to have but couldn't give.
It took years for his Fathers death to be behind him, though it never really did stop stinging... even though he stopped selling drugs and stopped Gang-banging all together he felt immense amounts of guilt. Even as he put himself through school and college, even though he got a job doing IT work for a Law Firm and repaired all the near-by schools computer systems that the High Schooler's would never come to respect or care for even though he did all that by himself, mostly, he couldn't stop the constant guilt he felt late at night after long days of work. This just lead to more internal conflict inside his mind and lead to random outburst of anguish- sometimes making him have to leave whatever current work he was doing and run for a bathroom stall to cry and tell himself-
"-it's your fault... you just HAD to do it... why? Why?!" the only thing that kept him sane was the fact he knew his Father loved him and wouldn't want to see his son like so. He 'sucked it up' and continues on with his Day to Day life- one that didn't have many real friends or any relationships, meaningful ones at least. Maybe he'll find some friends or maybe he'll just work and work as his Father did...