gangster zquad :: ziall

one™

rewritten

I used to have a regular life complete with parents who loved each other in a healthy marriage, friends who supported me checked up on my wellbeing from time to time, my childhood the defining years of my life continued normal wholesome moments. nothing could have possibly pointed towards the life I live right now. so why did I steer this way when I should have steered the other?

it's quite simple. control. power. it's the rebellious gene, going against my better judgment and turning it into my second nature. my life was too predictable and where's the fun in that? guy has the money and friends, gets his dick wet every once in a while but somewhere in between that all-to-perfectly laid out life a 19 year old boy asks himself, "would I be happy if I died right now?" the answer was no, it would always be no.

all of the academic shit and athletic trophies made me successful but not happy. this is not what I wanted to do for the rest of my everlasting life. I look back to the last day of my senior year and remember receiving a letter from my freshman self. I read through the paper and when I got to the end, it was printed "what do you want to be when you grow up?"

my younger self answered, happy and who was I to deny his request. I threw away the shitty medals, moved out and started living without thoughts of consequences as I was now a free man with a free will. I tried new things picked up some habits along the way. my parents didn't really support my decisions, my mom basically disowned me saying the devil must have entered my soul even went as far as to try and set up an exorcism. none of that mattered all is forgiven I was living a happy life. I was living my life my own way.

everything happens for a reason. who am I, a simple tattooed man to deny its request.

I was drifting through the wind no end game in mind no purpose in life, drinking away while waiting for my motorcycle to get its fill when a fight broke out in a group of 3 guys. the sound of my voice along with my authoritative presence is what made them listen to me. from then on out they made me their leader against my will. I followed along because it gave me a sense of belonging, something to do with my life. a purpose made me happy.

it only went up hill from there. soon they introduced me to a group of other people asking me if they could let them in. as if I was running a fucking clubhouse with a membership fee. however I could see just like me they also had nothing better to do so I agreed and it made them happy. 

imagine a group of 5 year olds who if given the chance would stop at nothing to get what they want. replace those little piece of shits with men that do have the ability to obtain whatever they want with no regard of others. every where we went we would cause a riot or mess. If we wanted beer because we wanted a buzz, they would rob from a gas station. if we wanted more tattoos they would follow me into a parlor then punch out the guy cold because they didn't want me to pay. 

I had them at my fingertips. with word getting out pretty quick in the street lowlifes started to come, begging me for a spot in my circle. very few would make the cut. if you have the slightest fucking clue about the street life you should know how hard it is to keep your nose clean. each day it got more and more exhausting having to steal and fight for luxuries so I turned my eyes towards the real money prize. drugs and narcotics. my circle made sure to introduce me to the right people, set us up with proper distributors, before the world knew it I was at the top of the meth empire.

there were bumps in the road. people think I'm blinded by god knows what letting them think they can get away with undercutting my prices or previous gangs I bled dry having the fucking brilliant idea of trying to take back their territory. multiple times have I had to set the record straight, prove myself through countless ways to make the world understand I'm not going no where.

we showed up at news, broadcasts, even the fucking grammy's were forced to stop and show a picture of my face asking viewers for any information of my whereabouts. that was the day we wiped out a whole gang needless to say it was a drug deal gone wrong nothing more to it. their way of operating didn't make me happy so it had to be terminated. 

some innocent people got the shitty end of the stick at the wrong place wrong time that's the glowing reason I was wanted for murder. if the only victims where gang members I would practically be getting praised by the world seeing as there's less scum thanks to me.

being leader of one the most powerful gangs on the rise had my hands pretty full these days. attaining more power, more control, owning this industry is what kept me driven. I was slowly turning heartless, the initial burst for pursuit of happiness kept in a dark cold corner. a brand new person took its place and I was okay with that.

I never lost a fight, the most damage that was ever done to me was a busted rib and a bruised cheek along with bloody knuckles but does it count if the blood was from the other guy?

I often get asked if I feel 'guilty' for taking those years away from humans. I don't, if you recklessly follow what makes you happy you're bound to find danger around the corner.