August 5th - 3rd Year Anniversary of My Death and Rebirth...

3 Years ago on a Thursday night, August 5th 2004, a younger - more ego-driven Johnny Handsome, decided he would go settle a problem he was having with some kids. They kept verbally harassing him over and over every time he went to see his then girlfriend - Killa. Killa warned him not to come by because there were over 20 guys waiting for him and some of them had guns, but "MACHO-JOHN" said " F' THAT! WE GOT GUNS TOO!" (referring to his boys of course because Johnny Handsome does not and hasn't ever owned a gun). So he gathered up 15 or so kids from the neighborhood and a few of his cousins to go handle this "beef". The plan was for Handsome to fight the kid one on one and if anyone tried to jump in then the posse would handle them... Nah, not the way it worked out. To make a long story short, as Johnny fought the guy he had an issue with, all he** broke loose and "MACHO-JOHN" let his ego take over and got pummeled by the kids entourage when they saw him handling his business and puttin' it on that PUNK! (come on now you know I couldn't tell this story without glorifying myself a little bit - HAHA!). Well as I was getting beat and stomped out, everyone (except for one person, but that's a whole other story for another day) lost track of where I was because they started rumbling, then when that same person yelled out "THEY GOT A GUN!" and everyone started to run (as I would have done also if I didn't know my friend and family member was being beat to a pulp because let's face it, we can all play the tough-guy role but once guns come into play that's where the "gullyism" stops). When I first woke up I was in an ambulance, they pushed me back down and I knocked out again and awoke in a hospital bed in I.C.U.. Everyone was happy to see me wake up and still be the normal old me - except for that fact that I looked like that pretty little picture up there LMAO! The doctor told me I was lucky that they were stopped on time because a few more kicks and I would've lost sight in my right eye and worst case scenario I would've possibly had some brain damage because I had internal bleeding in my skull (sounds so dramatic! lol). You may have noticed he said "they were stopped on time", yes they stopped because they were stopped not because they decided I had enough. Who stopped them you ask? No, not the people I brought with me, and no not the fact that I was drenched in blood and looked like Quasimodo - a twelve year old boy stopped them.

It turns out that my ex and her little brother were seeing the whole ordeal take place but couldn't tell who was the person left behind getting jumped because their window was too far from the corner where it took place. However, after a few minutes her brother noticed whose name they were yelling while they held the kid down and kicked his head in, they were saying "Yeah you ain't Handsome anymore n****!" - "KILLA IT'S JOHNNY, THEY GOT JOHNNY!" yelled little Bernie, and with tears running down his face, no shoes on and the biggest kitchen knife he could find, he ran downstairs like it was his own mother getting assaulted. He screamed with tears in his eyes "LET HIM GO YOU MOTHERLOVERS (I edited what he really said there of course ;-)) I CALLED THE COPS!!!" Soon as the word cops was mentioned they all fled like fleas (oxymoron there huh). All that was left there was a delusional, deformed, bloody sh** talker from East New York, Brooklyn. Killa and her mom arrived a few seconds after and they said I was apologizing to her mom and telling them that they had a gun to my face and I was telling them to go ahead and shoot! Now people, the last thing I remember was a pipe slapping me across the face and my eyes being open but no sound or movement of my body being possible, then as the image got darker a few feet coming across my face and then blackness. The doctor told me the reason I don't remember what went on after the pipe is because one part of my brain shut down (not literally you fools) and another part took over, thats why I was talking a whole mess of non-sense and actually telling people to go ahead and shoot because honestly, I don't care how much I know you won't really shoot I would NEVER tell someone with a gun in my face to go ahead and shoot me - SORRY, I'M FROM THE HOOD BUT I AIN'T THAT GULLY! I LIKE MY LIFE, I LOOOOOVE THIS STRESSFUL PLACE CALLED EARTH! Don't get me wrong, I love the Lord and the idea of Heaven but the longer he decides to keep me here the happier I'll be! lol. And that brings me to why I began telling you this story in the first place. Here we vamos...

Where most people would see that as an experience they wish they'd never had, I'm thankful for that night. I celebrate this day because it's the day that really opened up my eyes and made me appreciate ME more than I ever had, that's why I call it the rebirth. It's the day the young fool died and a King was resurrected. It made me appreciate the gift of life more than anything. It brought me closer to the Lord, whom I feel kept me around for a reason that night. He was the only one who stood by me when everyone else ran. As I slowly died he sent for Bernard to come wailing down that street with that knife in hand, yelling out that magic word "COPS" that put fear in those kids' hearts. He knew Bernard was nothing more than 5 feet tall and 70-something pounds but he empowered him with the courage and the right words to say at that moment so he'd be safe from harm and I'd be released early enough to not cause some serious life-threatening damage or even worse - death. And here's where his placement of that night gets even more eerie, yet at the same time gains some true significance in my life and the lives of those around me. Read on... (yeah I know this is a long one, but trust me it's well worth it)

My night of almost dying is sandwiched between two very important days in my life that really helped in shaping who I am today. August 4th (1996), represents the night my cousin Randy was shot dead. I was 12 at the time and although my relationship with Randy wasn't as solid as it could've been he still served as an example to me that death waits for no man. Just when you least expect it and you're having an amazing night with your closest buddies, just chillin' at the club and having a good time, you can have it all taken away - Click.. Clack... BANG! Just like that a scared kid decided he couldn't handle him one on one so he shot him, he was 24. August 6th (1998), the day my niece Brittany was born... with cerebral palsy. There's nothing more beautiful than the gift of life, but what about when that gift you get is somewhat impaired? At first my brother had no idea that his newly born daughter had any mental problems but shortly they found out and the news hit us all hard. He found out his daughter would never be completely normal and would need a lot of medicine, medical attention and most of all, love. Now picture waiting 9 months for a joyous gift and then finding out that this gift would come with complications and a shorter life span than most people, many would be devastated and lose faith, but not my brother. To this day he loves that little girl like you couldn't imagine. Mami doesn't tell him (foolish pride I guess) but she's so proud of the man she created that at times the thought brings tears to her eyes. His whole life revolves around doing what's right for Brittany. For the past 9 years she's slept in the same bed as he and his wife so they can be there and be alert if she gets one of her epileptic seizures in the late hours of the night... and he doesn't regret not one single minute of it.

Just a couple months back he was in the hospital with her for 3 days straight because her seizures worsened and wouldn't stop coming back every 5 minutes. It's the first time in my 23 years of living that I've heard my brother cry (besides some past memories when I was like 7 of him crying from Mami giving him a good "pela" lol). It was so hard on all of us because we knew he was down in North Carolina in so much pain and distress and there was nothing we could do about it, except pray. That day was the first time in my life I'd gotten down on my knees, prayed and practically begged the Lord to save my niece with tears running down my face like never before. They had tried several different medications because they felt her body had just gotten used to her current meds and they needed to find just the right one for the job. Nothing worked, two days of countless trying and just when there were two left and we'd prepared for the worst, one finally worked. We were all ecstatic! My brother and all of us knew that if we hadn't gotten together as a family and prayed that we probably wouldn't have gotten the good news we got that day.

My cousin, my experience and my niece are the reasons I know no matter what - I want to be alive. No matter how bad things get or seem to us, nothing is worse than not being here to experience those pains and stressful situations. So whenever you feel like things just aren't working out and you want to give up, remember these three numbers "4, 5, 6" thats what I do. Those three days, the 4th, 5th and 6th, are my motivation. All the bad days we go through are just necessary steps for us to enjoy those days we like to call the "good" days, but in reality people, everyday spent outside of a grave... is a GOOD day.

My name is Hand...