WAR: PART 10

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Today we had a STREET FAIR.
Free food for everyone.
BBQ, burgers & dogs & games for the kids.

Everyone's welcomed.
Families, Friends, Enemies;
the homeless, even the insane ones.

I was sitting under my tent
& my mind drifted into the past tense;
speaking to me of a time when,
as a young man, I attended these occasions.

The Fairs were always the highlight of my Summer.
It brought so many people together.

A flurry of activity.
A celebration of life.

"This is our REWARD," said the MOST HIGH.

To eat, drink and celebrate LIFE.

Each summer, we held one fair a week, for 3 months.
I think I had my first kiss at one of them.

I paid for the balls.
I had a terrible arm.
But I hit the bullseye with the last one.
And down she went, into the water tank.

And my reward— a kiss from Susan.
So far out of my league she was that a kiss from her really meant something;
life changing.

Fond memories of the street fairs.
So many.

So you can imagine my frustration when after 5 years of street fairs the city shut them down.

"Why," I cried?!
What happened?!!"
These were my questions.

And I was given answers.
I was told.

At 12 years old what could I have done?
Nothing.
Only cry & see my tears run.

See, wherever there's a celebration of life & all that's good in it, a deathly evil hovers about it.
Attempts to tear it down & ruin it.

While some were celebrating life or like myself, pursuing the KISS OF MY LIFE, there were always others there among us pursuing MISCHIEF.
That's right.

They didn't care who they hurt;
didn't care who couldn't have gotten killed.
They didn't value life like we did.

They were there PUFFED UP.
To show everyone:
"WE RUN THIS TOWN.
We're it!
We can do whatever we wanted."
We can even SELL DRUGS TO THE KIDS.
Who's gonna stop us— you, KID?!"

Unknown to me, there was violence occurring somewhere, at the fair each year.
And THEY were always at the center of it.

The violence went from bad to worse.
To so bad it seemed as though these street fairs were cursed.

The question wasn't if someone would die this year.
It was who would die this year?
Who would suffer a broken jaw, leg or arm?
A dislocated eye socket?
Whose picture would be in the news tonight with a bloody face?

The authorities had enough of it!
And they discontinued the street fairs.

The MAN I AM was born out of this.

And so today my mind wandered into the past tense and spoke with me of my ORIGINS.

When I snapped out of it & returned to the present I thought:
"You've come a very long way from that kiss & that 12 year old kid."

I got up and walked 10 blocks in both directions.
To one end & then to the other.

At each end there's a barricade with an opening that's an entrance.

These barricades are MANNED by 4 WOMEN.
Four of the nicest, most gentle, kind-hearted women I've had the pleasure to call FRIEND.

When you approach these barricades & attempt to enter MY street fairs they SMILE & GREET you:
"Welcome.
Please, come on through, enter.
Go ahead! Enjoy the free food,
as many of the games that suit you.
Go enjoy each other!
Eat, drink & celebrate the life the Most High has given you!"

But be warned:
when you enter through the barricades,
you enter into a contract—BEHAVE.
For only ONE PURPOSE are these 4 women stationed there.......

I call the 4 "THE GEMINI."

Ask yourself— WHY?

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