Happy Sacrifice-Day

I needed a spicy green chili beef and bean burrito like the food porn junkie I am. A fix, a cheap, spicy, let me live fix. Selfishly blabbed about my first world challenges to my partner. He caved and we went out on our journey.

An immediate blare of slurs came over me as internal dialogue because I quickly reminded myself that I could not eat for another two hours. Having to fast for 24 hours because my bestie and I cant help but make everything a gamble or competition. We call it an 'Accountability Partnership". My Partner calls it toxic. Quickly calmed myself with the solution of going for a ride to a location that was an hours ride away via Metro.

The 24/7 diner of choice of all times is 711. Affordability, consistency, and an unpredictable quality of service. I relish and dine sufficiently every time.

Being cared for is a true thing of sacrifice just like being loved requires action, the ride on the metro there solidified that for me.

The wearing of a mask means more than just following the rules or protection from a cough, It grants psychological solidarity and serenity.

His name is SHARIF.

On August 19th Sharif is reminded by way of trauma, overwhelming sensory memory, and the power of love and care by way of a strong willed mother that life must go on.

The Cold War of Rona -2020 has left more than its mark on us whom peer in the rear view of history twenty two years later.

Sharif served twenty-two years in the United States Marine Corp. His Father thought he was a mad man for enlisting. "You are an Arab, a jew, a business man. What is this!", the sentiment of a father whom is proud and pragmatic to a son whom is lost and loathing.

Energy and vibration is everything and Southern California has an energy, more like a force, unlike any place I have ever resided. No two things are alike, they may share heavy similarities but never are they exactly the same.

With youthful hormones at their peek and the energy being just right, Sharif went out into the world one night ready to do as most of us are looking to do when we are blessed with another day. He went out on the modern day hunter-gatherers path for an experience unique to his journey.

He rode off into the dust, hand gripped to the wheel of a Tesla, the vehicle of choice for a teenage Sharif who aspired after socially approved and conscious luxury. And brand of choice for every taxi in Lisbon, Portugal might I add.

He hunted down a prostitute to sit side by side with his Ego. To smoke hash with, suck on LSD pops, and enjoy the reckless silence while 90's Hip Hop squeezed into the tight space.

"They arrested me for possession and her for prostitution. I was released on a technicality and ordered to either serve six months of community service or assign myself to a program. I enlisted into the Corp.".

Prostitution, Posession...I was truly taken back in time by such language. LSD dipped anything is just as legal as dipping into a Vixon of the boulevard.

"Oorah! Good for you Devil Dog.", the sentiments of the MCJROTC Private First Class in me whom is ever grateful for what such a program taught me. For what the physical training did to my body to be honest. I selfishly put myself out there so that he would tell me more.

I believe it necessary to say all this vulnerability came about because Sharif sat down on the Metro, immediately addressed the young man whom was not properly wearing a face bit and closed his remarks with, "I am already dying of lung cancer, I don't need your germs too".

Bits are by far the better substitute to cloth face mask of the past. They rest with ear on your face and provide perfectly filtrated air flow to the body and brain protecting us all from airborne hazards.

What can I say, life is beyond what any of us believe, think, feel we know. And I was raised or born with the mark to accept the crossing moments of being present in accepting the dark humor or grim fate of others while keeping a smile on my face.

His name was KEITH.

Keith, like Sharif was raised in Los Angeles and enlisted into the United States Marine Corp. He went through the rigorous basic training at Camp Pendleton in sweltering heat. Learned to polish his brass and boots and to unify with his fellow leather neck, just as Sharif did.

Then time passed and things moved along as all things do in life. Basic Training turned to active duty, active duty meant theater, tour. The practical application of serving ones country.

They were proud to wear their strips and fight for all in the Rona Cold War.

Her name is DONDA.

She is a strong willed woman whom resides in Los Angeles. Donda is the mother of Keith who has become a close acquaintance of Sharif in the last twenty- two years of developing their relationship with one another.

Donda is the mother of Keith, her only child, her only son. Donda has cooked countless meals for Sharif, held him in his weakest of moments, and I hope has been held by him in hers.

Donda and Sharif meet every year on the anniversary date of August 19th in honor of Keith's Sacrificial Day. A practice many have taken up in a many of nations in efforts to heal one another. Wars have been outlawed across the globe since. Generations to come will not have to pass along such a practice of humanity.

Sharif knows the burden he bares of his life and all that of which it encompasses.

"When will you be a man and get a back bone! When will you be able to man up and pay the twenty dollars you borrowed from the man you asked it from? When will you be a man, Sharif!". Again, sentiments of Sharif's father. A father who loves and cares for his son, so much so his voracity is all he has to offer to match his sons ego.

Sharif's days have been number, he has intentionally kept his diagnoses from his mother, has indulged in the delight of home cooked meals and the embraces an platonic kisses of Donda...Sharif is still only a 18 year old at heart as a 54 year old man. He share his birthday is only a week.

I ask, "Is she ugly or are you just torturing yourself?". His reply is nonsense fluff so he can seem like a gentlemen in-front of my partner. "Oh, so your scared and dying. Copy".

Sharif has held back tears the entirety of our conversation, though the glaze over his eyes is thick and the darkening around his eyes has a depth like all bad boys have as they age. He finally smiles and his eyes soften as I prob him about Donda.

"So what do I do? Go buy a....".

"No! Absolutely not. What is this always having to buy something. Just show up like you always do, just make an honest from the soul move this time and stop living in fear. Need I of all strangers remind you that you are the one dying this time?"

Time has come to an end, the metro has arrived at the stop closes to Donda's home where Sharif is headed. He proudly thanks the conductor before he walks off the platform with a spring in his step like a school boy drunk in love for a crush he has learned to know, commiserate with, and do his best in honoring and caring for in the last twenty-two years.

Donda has not had a man in her life since the birth of Keith. Sharif is dying and yearns to be seen outside of material possessions and the sum of his mistakes which he has made himself believe are the end all be all to who he is.

I truly hope that they shared more than just a meal this time around.

Maybe I made a mistake...... maybe he should have bought her something. Spicy Green Chili Burritos always make me feel some kinda way.