Usually I get little hints about something that’s going to happen, like I’ll have a dream about it or if I take a psychic test it’ll ask me what is behind the card and I get a picture of a dog inside my mind and when the card is flipped over, there’s a pitbull or something, but this a story about how I saw one of my friend’s death.
Something had told me to call my friend Debbie so when I called, she told that she was going to the movies with Marc, Amber, Martin and as soon as she said Martin, something told me that Martin shouldn’t go but I ignored the feeling. That night I had a dream that I was walking on the side of the road and Phillip (one of my friends) was walking beside me. I heard Phillip scream and when I turned around I saw a pair of headlights coming my way. I woke up screaming and panting.
The next day at school Phillip looked at me and said “Martin is dead. Last night we went walking home from the movies and while we were walking a truck came and hit him behind the head with one of its rearview mirrors. He suffered brain damage and was on life support but his mom decided to disconnect him and he was doing good until he stopped breathing…” I came home form school that day and told my family about my story and my mom got scared and said ‘You’re movin’ with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air’. I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror, if anything I can say this cab is rare, but I thought ‘Now forget it’ - ‘Yo homes to Bel Air’. I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 and I yelled to the cabbie ‘Yo homes smell ya later’. I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
Oh, yeah, the idea has been replicated alot, I still get pissed when I get hit with a good one, I’ll try to find the one I’m thinking of that literally made me shit my pants.
Youre almost making me want to start smoking again.
I remember getting totally retarded and laughing at anything like the lady that looked like a troll, hearing monkey noises in a Biggie song, having a friend dress up like a terrorist with a towel on his head and a Kermit the frog sheet on and hold a rifle with a strap on route 20 and other crazy shit like that.
After a while I just started getting lazy after smoking and staring at the ceiling.
I’m stoned now but its the end of the day and I’m winding down before bed. But I love smoking and doing shit like mountain biking or skiing, a part of me tells me I should grow up and stop smoking. But another part says hey its one thing that really helps motivate you to not be a lazy couch potato so maybe its not such a bad thing.
