DeAndre

Da Hotshot Manifesto

• Journal

  • The Manifesto: Pt. 1 October 28th 2017, 2:05 pm

    I realize my days may be numbered. It's at any moment that I could die, and I know it. I've known this since the day I spiraled down into the life I have. I've found coping methods by learning how to invest my money and get the payout I want; I got nice cars, a nice house, can afford coke on the table every night, and snort it off Instagram models. I have everything a motherfucker like me could want. I'm lucky to have the friends and family I do now. Days don't go by when I don't have gratitude for Balou. He has given me everything I have. I still bust my ass, knowing I must never disappoint him. I know I won't. I was raised better than that.
    
    Today was an even more grievous warning. When I attended the speech, I watched those bodies fall. Innocents, and maybe some not as innocent. I killed nearly every single last one of the shooters, with, of course, the help of a witch. This means I now have a target on my back, and the red dot's on everyone around me. I rarely spend time outside of the trap and Chinatown for security reasons, but I learned of a nice little cafe out on the corner. I bought a lot of pies, ended up befriending the assistant manager of the place after I saved her and a few others, and had the best blueberry muffin and caramel macchiato I've ever had. Needless to say, it was unlike anything I've ever had. You just don't know about the beautiful things in such an awful town. I bought her a dress and got myself a few pies for the homies. In total I spent about 8 grand today. Not a big deal when you're the dude who pulls a million a month for your own personal bank account. Though, the girl may be human, there was something that breeds familiarity. Similarity to my own condition. It's not attraction, but interest. But for now, I need to keep her alive. She's going to be incredibly valuable in the war against...them.
    
    As long as the city doesn't descend into apocalyptic chaos, we can keep the streets from a pandemic. But a monopolized street in Fucktopia doesn't give me any promising intel. I made this gang to have power in a world where nobody gives people like me any. I have to seize it. I don't know if there will ever be a world where there's no need for factions, but as long as people think in ways that constantly clash, there will be factions. I'm glad I was there today, or maybe the coffee shop girl could have died. The newscaster. The unicorn cop. The student girl. They all might be dead right now. I have my battles to fight. I don't expect support except from my family, and from my shooters. For now, if I just keep my head on my shoulders and protect the people who will be instrumental in bringing this shitty asstown together in a state of order for once, and keep making the connections I'm making, my new purpose I have decided for myself will find itself completd.