MyTimeToBlog
The world at large has its stereotypes for incarcerated men like me. The majority are negative, and it hurts more when you battle to discover your value in this world. Mine took a lifetime to reach, and that's because of the deejay I listened to.
You see, when you live amongst men who have dedicated their existence to being nothing of semblance, you fall victim to it. You're in close proximity with men who sing, "I'm locked up. It's over. F#%k it!" That's their musical soundtrack. You hear it, and it becomes your miserable playlist as well.
My ears had to be blocked with other musical notes that I needed to sing daily: "I'm great. Love is a possibility in prison. My purposeful living will change everything." These lyrics made me smile because I could escape those horrible soundtracks being played daily.
I remember socializing with a man who stopped being the deejay of positivity records. He did this because he lost out on getting free. The work he did for himself was life-changing, but as soon as someone else said his deejaying wasn't worth hearing, he quit on himself. He retreated to deejay negative's soundtrack. It became a platinum hit. One that he fell in love with. Those tracks played day in and day out, causing him to knock his head against the wall, literally.
When you get lost on what others say you should play, they're the deejay of your life. They make you move your feet to their beat, and as they do, they have you moving to a rhythm that has you trapped. This was my friend. This was his favorite soundtrack. Sour lyrics that sent him deeper into himself, thinking what the deejay said was true. So true it consumed him.
I tried giving him a new album, but he didn't want to hear it. He became a super fan of the deejay. The more he listened to those lyrics, the deeper he sank. He's still there, and I kept singing deejay positive's lyrics. I moved to a different beat, one nobody respected. So, I was alone with my soundtrack of life.
I sat in my cell, staring out those bars of steel, noticing a world I wanted to be amongst again. My amazing lyrics came, and I sang them. Loud. Full of life. I wanted God to hear me.
I exited my cell, running into a downcast man. He only nodded to me, his lyrics saying it all: "My life is over. I'm in hell. I'll die here. I'm a loser." I didn't stop to invest in a deejay that sucked. I had my own, one that played a positive mix.
Those who can follow this song of life have a choice to be the deejay. You play what you want, and I hope it's lyrics that encourage you to be great. If not, turn that crap off and put on a better song. You deserve it.