Feature photo by Simon Zhu (unsplash)
Ch. VI.3 – “How Saint Laurenco Circle Was Built”
If your dead relative came back for a second chance, do you feel you knew them well enough to assume they’d pursue their dreams this time? And imagine if everyone understood and respected their history, and the reason for their racist assumptions and cold misery. History as it’s told, is often bought as it’s sold – because history is often rewritten and resold.
Like the ignorance in most, the people are no different than the original fool’s gold. So, don’t let history confuse you, because in the perfect story only context builds glory.
The history of one, may victimize the other for pun. We see it on the News. It’s today’s fantasy and people do it for stupid political views. That’s insane to me.
[from the narrator] I’m writing this perfect story and the world will read it just right. Now my cocky side is starting to show in fright. I’m getting carried away about the story I created of the perfect black man. He can fix the world via remote dummy’s. He’s not a hero, just an honest man. Most will ‘suspend’ their belief in joy, because research isn’t enjoyed. Easily thinking, how could a immigrating black man prosper in America with so little peace?
I’ll explain social media in Boujee III, so people won’t go deleting accounts, and unfollowing me. But this is just the beginning, and in any context of time, there is no such thing as a beginning. Just whenever you wanna’ begin dreaming. You choose your fate, not your expiration date.
Dead relatives may respect and turn over pretending in their grave. But thanks to history, we can relive it as they often published their future pursuings in writing. We understand Jefferson got the blueprint back, otherwise my pentagram run would’ve been perfect. History often forgets to mention that.
When the people look up at the Bourgeoisie Tower at Saint Laurenco Circle, they often think, “how could a black man put a monstrosity there, they never reach their pinnacle fair and square…”
Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because its fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd