Release Hatred

We all looked up to him. He was, without a doubt, our leader. It was a mutual feeling though, because in a way I think he looked up to us too. There was a constant give and take. But from early on I always realized that I was the only one that could see through it.

We weren't any type of organization or organized group. We definitely weren't a gang or any other crime related group. We were just a bunch of people trying to make it out. Well, I wouldn't say make it out… we were just trying to find our niche in this fucked up world. It was more of a reaction than an action.

Just like any other random cluster of people we had our spokesperson. It just felt like this guy knew everything. He knew when to fight and when to let things go. He always had an answer. We were the innocent and he was the experienced. We were the naïve and he was the jaded. We were the weak and he was the strong teaching us to be strong. We broke our backs for that wisdom. And we were breaking our backs to have that type of wisdom. We would have, without a doubt, went to war with this man.

I guess one day he got sick of the way things were and decided to just leave. He called us together and told us it was time to go. There was a unanimous decision to follow him. So they all left in search of something better.

I decided to stay because I was the only one that could see. They were blind to the fact that he was blind. They were not wise enough to put the pieces together. I had learned just enough to know. His house didn't have windows… he had no reason to ever look outside or look inside or look anywhere because it was all black.

The literal blind was leading the figurative blind.

I earned his respect because I stayed and I knew that he knew that I would succeed and he knew that I knew that he would succeed.

The rest of them went down faster than a cheap hooker.

WW

Note from William Wallace to anyone reading: Change can only come from within. If you are unhappy with the way bombing is in Delaware, then you have to be a part of the change. For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction. Read that twice. As much as you would rather live in Philly or New York or wherever because "they're on that real shit"... guess what, you don't, and until you do, you have to be a part of this movement or you have to get off your message board and stop complaining. Pay attention to what is around you. Don't write this off yet. The Glam Life and Glory Days are on some real shit. And not just some real graff shit, some real shit period. If this was pure graff would I even have an audience? Fuck no. So generate interest, just because your boy isn't hittin a blackbook doesn't mean he can't be up on this. Photographers, writers, poets, musicians, anyone with a voice and a message should get involved somehow.

What I'm saying is... Stand up Delaware. Raise your hand. Be proud of where you are from. Read between the lines. Keep searching. Never stop pushing. Never stand still. Make moves. Know when to whisper and know when to yell. Stop hating. Be real. This isn't a movement. This is YOUR movement.

If anyone wants to hit me back, go ahead... instaticww@gmail.com... if not, thats cool, I'm gonna keep pushing because my voice will be heard.

Be easy.

William Wallace