Ode To Bucky Goad

I cried. So sad and moving

Thought Catalog

My oldest brother was twenty-five when he had the life stabbed out of him, but I was only eight. I’ve always known that he was murdered in Paris in 1969. What I didn’t learn until recently was that his whole life was only a dress rehearsal for that ugly final act.

My other brother Johnny, who’s thirteen years older than me and knew my oldest brother far better than I did, has helped me fill in a lot of the blank, bleak details.

Dad met mom at a USO Dance in Philly, accidentally knocked her up, and was in Europe fighting the Nazis when informed that he’d gotten her pregnant. Their first baby was born out of wedlock.

His legal name was Alton Howard Goad, Jr., but all we ever called him was Bucky.

Bucky was different from 99 percent of us because he couldn’t hear or talk. My mother…

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School? NOOOO

Bismillah hir Rahman ir Rahim.
Well I haven’t written anything for a little while. It’s not like anybody is actually reading this though.
Sooo school is about to start again -.- Im soooo not ready for this. Yes it’s gonna be my 11th grade year but honestly at this point Im bored and tired with this year to year crap. And this summer was sooo weird. It went by waaay to fast. But at least I had a summer.
In other news I have the most extreme case of writers block. I have no more ideas for my story on wattpad and I haven’t updated in months. Since before Ramadan. Im a horrible person, I know.
Oooooh and Ramadan was…okay. I kinda wish everyday was Ramadan because it’s so much easier to intend to do something good and stick to that plan. During the rest of the year Im always planning or knowing I should do something but when the time comes there’s always this evil little voice inside of me that goes “Oh it can wait five more minutes.” Then five mins become 10 and 10 mins become 10 years and 10 years become a lifetime. So this year was kind of a challenge for me because for some reason there were so many distractions and I kept hearing that evil little voice. Actually it scares me because everytime I listen to it, it gets bigger and bigger until maybe im never gonna be able to ignore it. This year didn’t feel the same at all.
I just pray that the Shaytan doesn’t lead me astray even though im immensely proud to say that Im trying to stay firm to my deen more and push that nigga away. If ANY muslim or even nonmuslim is reading this and has any suggestions that you think might help me with staying on ALLAH’s straight path PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU, PLEASEEEEE, leave a comment so that I may take heed and stay on the path leading to Jannah.