I had a dream called Los Angeles

I was born in the ghettos of America, but that’s not what this piece is about because if you look up Los Angeles it will say it’s a safe diverse place, and where I live, I learned a lot and actually survived so let us join hands and read.

In my younger adult years I had a nightmare that a city was burning and the people were fleeing to safety. I quickly got up to tell my mother.

She looked at me and said, “Brian, maybe God is trying to tell you something. Give it time.”

I’ve never been to L.A., but as a child, I admit that I did play for the little Raiders and me and my street cousins as a family would rock to Tupac, D—th Row, and NWA was pretty big at the time and we were all victims of street violence praying for a dream to rise out of the harsh ghetto, but I say again, that is not what this piece is about. After the dream I saw a man at a popular grocery store, I never met him before, but he looked me in the eyes and said “Never go to L.A.,” young and dumb, his words echoed in my mind. 

“Why would he say that?” I thought. 

I’m assuming that he must have known something that I didn’t. Now an adult, I can’t escape my passion for a part of America where as a child would seem close to home. I can’t escape the reality of a people searching for peace in their lives, peace in their communities, and peace in their homes. Little children with dreams of flying like angels. So I say go, learn and help as much as you can. They say the world is burning, but I say the world is teaching us something about ourselves, I do know that if my dream was showing me Los Angeles, then God must have a plan. I believe his plan is to bring us together. I say this because there are prayers in many parts of the world that need to be answered. Brethren, there is beauty in the hearts of places that we all have never been but dream of, and that beauty is in the people finding away to make something out of nothing. I’ve never been to Los Angeles, but I’ve heard about it and their street warriors, just like the warriors on the East Coast have little humble hearted children searching for a dream to believe in. In the words of the dreamers and lyrical genius that have passed on, “To live and ——-in L.A. it’s the place to be.
And the angels go 

You’ve got to be there to know it where everybody wanna see or be.
To live and—- in L.A.” If I got the words wrong, forgive me, I’m sure you get the picture. In closing, I pray that the city of Angels and the state of California rise from the ashes like a phoenix while the angels of God spread their wings around California and bring hope with a spirit of holy vibes in the city founded by Felipe in 1781. I hope that like every tragedy on earth that it brings us closer to God and most of all brings us all together. I think that’s what the dream meant. A town burning to bring people together while seeking the knowledge to rebuild. Peace. Written by a dreamer spreading hope for a better tomorrow and a better world. Always in memory of those fighting for a better tomorrow, tipped over with a pen and a pad searching for a way to the promised land.

I had a dream called Los Angeles.