Now that the Ground Zero of my life is in plain view, It is time to rebuild. This is an ability that God blessed me with. I am made from the sand. And like any clay scupture, it can be shattered and rebuilt into something new. During the mere 8 days I have left of freedom, I will be working on a new EP during this time, similar to what T.I. did with Paper Trail.
Me Chris, and Tommy were sitting around thinking up a name for it. Whatever it will be, it has to be something that relates to my life and my current situation. That's when Chris mentioned the concept of Creative Destruction. This is where in order to make room for something completely new, something has to be completely destroyed. The notion of creative destruction is found in the writings of Mikhail Bakunin, Friedrich Nietzsche, and in Werner Sombart's Krieg und Kapitalismus (War and Capitalism), where he wrote: "again out of destruction a new spirit of creativity arises".
Here begins the my new chapter.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Ground Zero | Part 2
From inside a building with no windows, it is hard to tell day from night. The only hint that the earth is rotating is the daylight that peers through the thickly meshed metal grate that covers the small translucent fiberglass tiles towards the ceiling. The time of day didn't matter because either way, I couldn't sleep. It wasn't until 6:00 am, after the sugar rice and bread tray being brought into my cell by an orderly, was I able to sleep. I was woken by the metal door clunking open. An officer called my name and asked me to sign some paperwork that appeared to be a bail but later was found to be a Temporary Leave Status form. The judge granted me 12 days out of custody for me to handle things with my family and then report back to the court on June 29th and turn myself back in. I have 12 days to save my mom's house from foreclosure and to tie up any loose ends before I go back into custody.
Then more bad news. Since I have been locked up, Baron Hopgood, the owner of Optasia Enterprises and its subsidiaries including the label I signed to which was a sub label under EMI, was now being investigated for embezzlement. He appearantly scammed the city of Dallas mulitple times with several cases of realestate fraud and other crimes. The local news is currently doing an expose on him. The label went under with my $500,000 indie deal inwhich he was protected by the LLC laws. Not that I would want to be associated with such a shady company anyway.
Now weeks away from being homeless, I am fighting harder than I ever have before. Losing it all, I still remain strong, trusting in the Lord and ultimately, doing it for my mom.
I refuse to lose.
Ground Zero | Part 1
The more I look at these pictures of my mom, the more I want to know why her? She kept me grounded. She did everything right. Growing up on a farm on Texas Road in a small town in Maryland, she possessed the need for more. So she joined the military and served for 16 years and retired as a Master Sargent. Raised 4 kids with the absence of my father, in which i have seen one time in my life. Her conservative, and strong christian nature made me feel like Hitler. I would give her every piece of me if she needed it. Although she was only born with one kidney, she new she had a spare that I would give to her without a second thought. I had her back just like she had mine.
It started out so small. It is unfair how it crept right by me so undetected like a serpent in the shadows. I remember her taking some time off in April because she hurt her arm. My mom was so independent that she often tried to do too much just to get the job done. So it was nothing for me to think that she probably was at the office and picked up something too heavy and pulled a muscle. But, the pain didn't go away, and started to get to the point where she was starting to not be able to use her arm. At this point it was time to see the doctor. We would eventually find out that she had a malignant tumor in her neck that then leaded to T-Cell Lymphoma and Bone Cancer.
Through the treatment, things got worse but I was with her. There were times where she wouldn't eat. And I had to give her pep talks. I couldn't allow her to give up on herself. And she would look in my eyes, and listen. In between balancing assisting her, doing my music, taking my little sister to and from school, and dealing with legal stuff from a case I caught early 2008, I was able to get her to stabilize. She was back to being able to eat solid foods after 14 radiation treatments.
During the 2 weeks of rest that she was supposed to get before starting chemotherapy, I took her in for a blood transfusion because she had a really low white blood cell count from the radiation. Afterwords, I took her home and headed downtown for my sentencing for a little paper time. Following that, I would run across the street to the Label's branch office to pick up an advance check, so I could pay some bills off and buy a Macbook.
Back in the courtroom I sat, witnessing something prepared to be a simple signing of a few papers go down hill. Apparently, the weighted GPA score from high school that i reported in my interview with my P.O., didn't match the unweighted GPA score that the public schools turned in. Coupled with a couple more similarly minuscule discrepancies was enough for the judge to tell me to my face that i was a liar and definitely had an issue telling the truth. The fact that this was an easily beatable case in retrospect, and that I plead guilty just to expedite things and get such an infantile charge out my hair, added even more insult to injury. Needless to say, at that point, May 13th, I was brought back into custody.
What bothers me the most is that it seems as if as soon as I got locked up, everything collapsed in my absence. Ironically, from the outside, St. Anthony is less than a mile away from the Jail. My last memory of my mom was a visitation at the jail where I was unable to even touch her, separated by the bullet proof glass. My sister told me that even in her last days all my mom seemed to be worried about was me. In a delirious state from brain damage she would ask my sisters, "Where is Lorin? I need to know that he is okay.." That hurt and still does. Being escorted from my cell to the Chaplain's office and then being handcuffed before having the phone be handed to me; it was a three-way call. I heard two of my sisters and a third man that they were getting off the phone. The word that stuck out was "Mortuary". I already knew. My sister said "Lorin, Mom passed away last night.." In Life there are a lot of firsts. One I hope few people ever have to experience is crying helplessly in jail. The day was June 15th.
It started out so small. It is unfair how it crept right by me so undetected like a serpent in the shadows. I remember her taking some time off in April because she hurt her arm. My mom was so independent that she often tried to do too much just to get the job done. So it was nothing for me to think that she probably was at the office and picked up something too heavy and pulled a muscle. But, the pain didn't go away, and started to get to the point where she was starting to not be able to use her arm. At this point it was time to see the doctor. We would eventually find out that she had a malignant tumor in her neck that then leaded to T-Cell Lymphoma and Bone Cancer.
Through the treatment, things got worse but I was with her. There were times where she wouldn't eat. And I had to give her pep talks. I couldn't allow her to give up on herself. And she would look in my eyes, and listen. In between balancing assisting her, doing my music, taking my little sister to and from school, and dealing with legal stuff from a case I caught early 2008, I was able to get her to stabilize. She was back to being able to eat solid foods after 14 radiation treatments.
During the 2 weeks of rest that she was supposed to get before starting chemotherapy, I took her in for a blood transfusion because she had a really low white blood cell count from the radiation. Afterwords, I took her home and headed downtown for my sentencing for a little paper time. Following that, I would run across the street to the Label's branch office to pick up an advance check, so I could pay some bills off and buy a Macbook.
Back in the courtroom I sat, witnessing something prepared to be a simple signing of a few papers go down hill. Apparently, the weighted GPA score from high school that i reported in my interview with my P.O., didn't match the unweighted GPA score that the public schools turned in. Coupled with a couple more similarly minuscule discrepancies was enough for the judge to tell me to my face that i was a liar and definitely had an issue telling the truth. The fact that this was an easily beatable case in retrospect, and that I plead guilty just to expedite things and get such an infantile charge out my hair, added even more insult to injury. Needless to say, at that point, May 13th, I was brought back into custody.
What bothers me the most is that it seems as if as soon as I got locked up, everything collapsed in my absence. Ironically, from the outside, St. Anthony is less than a mile away from the Jail. My last memory of my mom was a visitation at the jail where I was unable to even touch her, separated by the bullet proof glass. My sister told me that even in her last days all my mom seemed to be worried about was me. In a delirious state from brain damage she would ask my sisters, "Where is Lorin? I need to know that he is okay.." That hurt and still does. Being escorted from my cell to the Chaplain's office and then being handcuffed before having the phone be handed to me; it was a three-way call. I heard two of my sisters and a third man that they were getting off the phone. The word that stuck out was "Mortuary". I already knew. My sister said "Lorin, Mom passed away last night.." In Life there are a lot of firsts. One I hope few people ever have to experience is crying helplessly in jail. The day was June 15th.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)