There was a Breaking News flash. Rapper Lil' Wayne had died.
One of those crappy MTVBETVH1 "Story of Lil Wayne" type of specials was on the idiot box. Some male friends and I were watching it together. I was the only girl in the room. I shook my head in disagreement at much of what was being said.
Just as they were discussing his drug habits, his perceived inadequacies, and his failures in their eyes, some old footage of Wayne as a young pre-teen was played. How timely.
It displayed him (high as a kite) talking about his parents - or the lack thereof. The dudes in the room nodded their heads and signaled to the TV. "See! Look at this nigga, man...A waste," one of them validated.
Wayne touched on how he was a product of his environment. He explained how many like him can only express what they absorbed; what they were fed; what they saw everyday; what they heard. The point being, in so many words, what life deposits into a person is what that person spits out in return.
"This is my way of expressing that shit... " he said, after exhaling a puff of smoke.
The special continued on. They fast forwarded to a more recent clip of him as an adult. In it, he was high to the point of incoherence. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I remember that he started to get emotional and teary-eyed. Finally, I heard him mumble, "If I could do anything differently, I don't think I would. . . or could. I think I'm who I was supposed to be. I think I did what I was supposed to do."
He paused. The off-screen interviewer waited. Wayne needed a moment. "Hey, cut the camera off," he managed finally.
The dudes in the room dismissed his comments in the clip as bullshit. I intervened. My two cents: "Say what you want, but he still made a HUGE impact on millions of people. And whether you deem it positive or negative, it's both...because it could be either one to anyone in the world. "
"Please. Buffoonery. He could've been great," one of them protested.
"He was... Maybe not to you. But he was [great]. And relevant in the eyes of millions, no less. If you could've done what he did, better than him, you would have. But you didn't. You have your own mission to accomplish instead; your own part to play." I rebutted.
At once, the voice I've come to know so well, and even expect, was audible once more.
It whispered: Every contribution is valid. Every expression's a puzzle piece. Every message will reach who it is intended to reach.
I woke up. Late.
- kj
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