Yes, little man?
“What was that?”
“It sounded like a gun.”
Go to sleep, little one.
¿Sí, mi hijo?
*SOUND OF A TRAIN*
“¿Donde está mi hermana?”
She’s in heaven. Her destination came – before her journey could begin.
Es bedtime, mihijo.
[A minute. sixty seconds. pure silence. reflect.
This life. roll the dice. gamble without making a bet.]
“What’s the future generation?”
I don’t know. That depends on you, the decisions you make and where you go.
Are you going to step up and lead the pack or choose to go with the flow and follow?
I can tell you what will happen tomorrow. And the next day.
Someone is bound to sell you something you’ll just throw away.
You’ll get loads of advice. to go. to stay. The road to success. How to get paid.
But I say — it’s not my choice. Just listen to God. And his way.
His plan is far better. He layed out the lives of you and your brother.
His plan for me has proven to be dependent on him in order to be your father.
Our future is a dream. But, it makes our minutes turn to moments.
I know it seems, that we’ll be forever bound to this apartment.
But we look forward to the food that nourishes our bodies.
We look toward each other with pleasure and enjoy what God sees.
We love one another. And others. With big hugs and kisses.
And when we’re tired, we know we have a place to rest.
This is what i know. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I always thought in two-thousand and seven, we’d be flying around in little spaceships.
But we’re still human. Still loving. Still beings. Still falling into relationships.
There are things. Tons of things, son. Things below. Things above.
But only one thing — really brings joy… It’s whole-hearted love.
Don’t forget who you are. Even when your feet are bare.
It can’t be helped. Come push. Come shove. You, my son, are the future.
Are you still awake, son?
Now will you tell me what the past is?
“Whoever was just shot, well, that was all that they got. They have nothing left.
All the life they lived only lasted up til now. That is the past. And i know
you don’t know where you came from – the place you were born.
Your bloodline is lost. You’re hurt, dad – that must cost a fortune.
It’s ok that we’re not rich. With all the toys. Our life is just fine.
We’re the invincible princeboys. I don’t need Direct TV.
I really enjoy peanut butter and jellies. Just come here. Sit down.
And talk to me.
My past is only seven years deep – but it feels like thirty.
Because everything you are – has been instilled inside me.
Our past was a minute ago. A moment committed to our memory.
I pray every sunday that one day I will be just like you.
I’m glad you decided to have me and not run like most kids do.
I couldn’t go anywhere and know the feelings i do.
I wouldn’t know where to go if it weren’t for you.
If you left I’d be crushed but my strength would push, all that is shoved to me,
every futuristic perception i see. My weakness would rush with anxiety.
Dad, I need my past. I need you. I love you. Don’t leave me.”