Acid Raps: A trip with my Granny.

Deon. Call. Me.

My grandma’s favorite three words to leave me on a voicemail because let’s face it, that’s what 80 year old women do. They call you on something they halfway understand and hope it gets to you. Sometimes we play it off like it doesn’t, but it does. Either way my grandma didn’t care. She was probably leaving the voicemail off the strength. She’s been battling with mental encephalopathy over the past 4 + months, which means her brain isnt getting enough oxygen (I think). Unfortunately, she hasn’t been doing so well, but she’s a fucking fighter bro. Like I damn near gave up myself like when it started and she’s here 5 months of a feeding tube and good care and good energy manifested. I honestly believe that these past few months of her life has been her living through the good energy she’s put out there. Like everyone she’s met or had a positive interaction with has been reconnected with that over the past few months and thought of her or something.

I always wanted to do a like stream of consciousness straight to my blog and here that is. Maybe I shouldn’t talk about how I’m tripping acid right now with my elementary school best friend. Who kind of reminds me of Chance, the current selection of music. Like why am I even writing this now, possibly risking thousands of upcoming event money. To talk about my lame illegal drug filled night.

Or to talk about my grandma. I’ve been wanting to trip for a while now and I think it’s coming at the right time. I feel her selfless energy in the acid. I comprehend her message to be somebody’s everything through Chance’s music. I have a blind mom and a nephew I owe the world to. In the blur of this night, the few words that I got from her spirit speaking to me were “I’m proud, but keep working”. And that’s all I needed to hear or receive, I haven’t heard her speak to me since right before the whole situation started. I had never even see my grandmother sick. I just wanted to know I made my grandma proud and/or maybe this is some empty elaborate ploy to clear my lack of a worthy grandson’s conscience.

But I am starting to believe everything happens in due time and this trip could’ve happened at any time this summer but it happened this weekend before my Delta interview and my drive/ride up to Williamsport. Shoutouts Matt, Victor, Gabe, Jarred and the Prius.

Here’s where I venture off into Trippy Land, I think I saw something reaper-like creep through the door. And itwas so close it felt like it might’ve been coming for something else close to me. But what? Maybe I’m just thinking too deep, black thoughts and marijuana Schoolboy Q shit. My grandmother spoke to me on that Big Sean Holy Key verse. It was Brazy. I felt her vibe cause she had the arrogant swag of a rapper. And so many of the lyrics apply to what she probably did tell me on days we stood outside in the sweltering heat or the storming rain because I needed her. Not because she needed an ounce of the disrespectful piece of shit I was, but because I needed her to get my shots and teeth cleanings and shit. My shit was fucked up lmao shoutout everybody that knew me before middle and high school, I’m gone leak those photos somewhere on here soon.

But I remember some of the ways I hurried her or like got mad that I had to fill out my own shitty Doctor information sheet because she was honestly too old for that and I was her last child to raise. Now that I’m grown it’s all pretty much up to me. I’m the end of a generation. My kids won’t know my grandma so I have to let her live through me daily. Never met a more self less person than Betty other than my aunt Shon. I don’t think she’ll have kids so I am to my grandmother what my older cousins were to their grandmother. But a lot older so this is now about my kids instead of just younger relatives.

I want to show them and everyone else I come in contact with what a great a kind soul she was through my energy. I’ve always considered myself a peacemaker ever since that gem Mr. Thomas dropped after I punched a nigga named Darell after playing football because he called me “Ignorant”. She is now speaking to me through the Jadakiss “lil bruh” track oddly enough. All of my favorite verses sound like something my granny would rap. That’s how wise Jada, Chance and a few others are. And I’m still on the musical journey. The most comfortable part of the trip in ATL sometimes is just the fact that I can DJ throughout.

So some rediscovered weed, a stint at the park later I’m watching Snoop’s reggae documentary. Im seeing parts of myself in the kids who he’s visiting in the hoods of Jamaica, half of my American self in Snoop. But mostly seeing myself as Daz who just chills out with his big cousin and enjoys the Jamaican lifestyle and adventure.

Post Notes: Looking back at this like two and a half weeks later, I have went up to Williamsport and feel kind of comfortable posting this on medium instead of my own site. I still feel like I connected with her spirit through the acid raps I was hearing from whichever rapper I had on at the time that was dropping gems. It gave me some light in a very tough battle that takes place in my granny’s bedroom on a hospital bed with her wall surrounded by photos of loved ones watching as one of her Angel’s as she’s been for everyone of those like 150+ people in the photos. She loved her freaking photos!

Me and snoring granny.
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