My Wasted Life: A Story About Gangs, Drugs & Violence
Book Details
Author(s)Soldier
PublisherSoldier
ISBN / ASINB005JSYCU2
ISBN-13978B005JSYCU7
MarketplaceIndia 🇮🇳
Description
I wrote this letter a little over five years ago to a younger cousin of mine when I noticed that he was heading towards a path of destruction. I figured the best way of helping him was to simply share my personal story of how I got involved with gangs, drugs & violence and of how & why I'm in this wheelchair. I literally wrote down my spoken words of painful regret, hoping that he'd be smart enough to learn from my mistakes... Well, I'm pleased to say that he was smart and that he did turn his life around for the better... Now, five-years later I want to share my story with whom ever may be interested. I hope that you enjoy my story and that you at-least somewhat understand how these certain things happen in life...
Regards,
Soldier: West Los Angeles
Continuation From Preview Of Chapters' 1 & 2:
That year one of my friends from the block was murdered. I had always looked up to “Mando”. May GOD rest his soul? He was a seventeen-year-old boy who got caught up in the evils of gangs... I can remember how we would play together as boys. We would dress up like Ninja, and pretend to be on secret spy missions; and of how we would gather all of the other neighborhood kids together and give them all Karate lessons. We didn’t know a lick of Karate either, but that didn’t stop us. After all, we had seen plenty enough Bruce Lee type flicks, and that in it-self made us 3rd-degree black belts! But “Mando” was a few years older than me. He went to Jr. High and made new friends… When he got jumped in, I would hardly ever see him anymore. But I can recall many of times when he would tell me not to be a fool like him, to never get jumped in. He would always say to me, Don’t ever get jumped in, don’t fuck up like I did, I wish I never had! … Well, he did get jumped in, and he was murdered in front of his girlfriend! I remember his funeral. I believe, that, was the first of many times in my life, when I felt pure hatred. I hated that other gang & I wanted to kill them all! … I couldn’t even cry for him, my hatred wouldn’t let me. I had to justify my false sense of honor, that evil hatred which was consuming my soul! … Well that was the spark, which lit my fuse. I was now on my way to a life of evil. To a life of gangs, drugs and of all the activities that go along with them.
Regards,
Soldier: West Los Angeles
Continuation From Preview Of Chapters' 1 & 2:
That year one of my friends from the block was murdered. I had always looked up to “Mando”. May GOD rest his soul? He was a seventeen-year-old boy who got caught up in the evils of gangs... I can remember how we would play together as boys. We would dress up like Ninja, and pretend to be on secret spy missions; and of how we would gather all of the other neighborhood kids together and give them all Karate lessons. We didn’t know a lick of Karate either, but that didn’t stop us. After all, we had seen plenty enough Bruce Lee type flicks, and that in it-self made us 3rd-degree black belts! But “Mando” was a few years older than me. He went to Jr. High and made new friends… When he got jumped in, I would hardly ever see him anymore. But I can recall many of times when he would tell me not to be a fool like him, to never get jumped in. He would always say to me, Don’t ever get jumped in, don’t fuck up like I did, I wish I never had! … Well, he did get jumped in, and he was murdered in front of his girlfriend! I remember his funeral. I believe, that, was the first of many times in my life, when I felt pure hatred. I hated that other gang & I wanted to kill them all! … I couldn’t even cry for him, my hatred wouldn’t let me. I had to justify my false sense of honor, that evil hatred which was consuming my soul! … Well that was the spark, which lit my fuse. I was now on my way to a life of evil. To a life of gangs, drugs and of all the activities that go along with them.
