Author: Jason Blanco
Location: New York, NY
Jason Blanco is a writer and photographer. He splits his time between New York City and Florida. He can be reached at NYPRBLUE@hotmail.com.
Johnny was a Good Man, but the cell block bars in a broken hearted brotherís Soul rattled with a fury for Freedom and he became a statistic.
Good manners intentions job heart hair and still, he looked in the mirror and saw Nigger.
He understood his chances of survival were low to no — even affluence fares poorly where he was from. Where he was from.
Raised in captivity, the gradations of light by which he scrutinized hisSelf distorted his visage, distilled his Beauty and Power. Possibility was not available to a hood rat like he.
Sentience, intellect, knowledge of history and art, too, made him an anomaly and therefore weakened his cache within The Place that occupied him — a space of ten to twenty city blocks populated by boys dwelling in menís bodies, addlepated minds lacking awareness — braggadociado, fratricide and misogynism overcompensating for the savage inequity of their not so unique position, that emasculating environment bereft of fathers, but full of babydaddys.
Johnny was cognizant and understanding of this behavior — his brethren caught up in some design of terrible, denied pain — and ultimately, this kind of acute empathy was fatal.
Johnny hisself suffered his own terrible, if undenied pain, warring factions of sense and psychosis, calm and chaos, clarity and confusion. He struggled his relative short time to transcend this disorder, to no avail.
Johnny was a Good Man, but his perception was skewered and one of the tragedies of his life was that he knew but could not change this.