A Chance to Stop by A Okelola

A Chance to Stop

Aaron Okelola

The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people at-risk of, victims of, or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017 this innovative program expanded into Chicago to create tangible, high quality opportunities that nourish the minds,,expand the voices and share the personal truths of individuals who have long been underserved and underestimated. Through the process of drafting, revising and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive selfprojection to author new life narratives.

Since January 2017 ConTextos has partnered with Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Cook County Department of Corrections as part of a vision for reform that recognizes the value of mental health, rehabilitation and reflection. These powerful memoirs complicate the narratives of violence and peace building, and help author a hopeful future for human beings behind walls, their families and our collective communities.

While each author’s text is solely the work of the Author, the image used to create this book’s illustrations have been sourced by various print publications. Authors curate these images and then, using only their hands, manipulate the images through tearing, folding, layering and careful positioning. By applying these collage techniques, Authors transform their written memoirs into illustrated books.

This project is being supported, in whole or in part, by federal award number ALN 21.027 awarded to Cook County by the U.S. Department of the Treasury.

A Chance to Stop Aaron Okelola

The 7th grade came and we started smoking weed. We were all in. We went from 1 blunt a day to as many as we could get. I don't know whose idea it was but we figured it a be fun to go to school high, and high we was.

Sitting in the principal's office waiting on our parents to come get us. We got our 10 day suspension and awaited our expulsion hearing. First time I think I experienced being nervous.

Then 8th grade came. I didn't get kicked out but I had to take some classes at CVS Highschool, do community service and stay out of trouble. But by now I was sneaking girls in the crib, sneaking in their crib, playing point em out knock em out (to take their money for weed of course) leaving a trail behind.

All types of FUN (stupid) stuff. One time we beat up a kid and took his stuff, and was met at school the next day by him and his parents. Since we did it in our uniform, it was a nobrainer where to find us. We were pointed out and hauled off without warning. It didn't happen on school grounds nor during school hours. Lucky I guess.

My closest friends were in high-school already so I knew which school I was going to but my OG had other plans. She said, “you're moving with your grandma and great grandma in Noble Square.”

High-school on the North side sounded lame until my first day. There were so many lustful things going on. So many types of girls. So many types of weed. It was heaven. Now being in high-school, my little $5-10 a day for snacks wasn't going to get me snacks and weed so I figured if I could just sell enough weed to buy more and smoke the rest, I would be good. But that's how it all started.

Selling weed brought girls that just wanted to get high for real and niggas that also wanted the same. The girls were coming around for 1 reason but I didn't care because I only wanted 1 thing as well. These encounters slowed me down with the 1 girl who was really there for me.

But that didn't matter, I was young and in the moment.

Now the guys sometimes didn't have money but wanted to trade. So one day my homie said “I stole this lean from my brother. Smoke with me and give me a bag to take home and it's yours.” I’m like “This that Lil Wayne shit, iight! Let's do it!” So we drank it raw. No pop, no juice. I didn't know.

I needed to mix it. I just went to every class and went to sleep. It really wasn't that big of a deal because I didn't have resources to get it. But from the introduction we had, I could never forget it.

Later on during senior year, somebody told me “Ay these pills called supermans gives you superpowers, like you really turn into superman.” I remember taking 1 before a field trip to a college tour. I was acting crazy, having a ball. I didn't think much of it at the time. It just became another drug I had to have. It made me feel unstoppable, and who don’t wanna feel like that?

Now my supermans plus the weed made my bedroom encounters with my lusties even more better. So my standards got lower because I had to get in the bed with a girl while I was high. It would defeat the purpose of taking it if I didn't.

This led to being with girls I had no business being with.

You know them girls that are for everybody. Yea, well those girls sent me to have to get the shot in my ass or take a pill the size of a golf ball. The X pill cons out weighed the pros. If you got a bad 1 you might not perform in bed at all or you might be up for 24 hours. I was more of a downer guy anyway, so when my cuzo came from college with a xanax and told me this was lean in a pill form but better, I didn't hesitate to try it.

The xan was the best thing ever. I would take it, go on the block, start stuff with everybody.

Go home, go to sleep, wake up and forget everything that happened.

I would go outside and people would say “You bogus. Why you do this and that?” I would just laugh and do it all over again. Females would say “Boy you a different type of person off whatever you took.” I would either treat them really good or really really bad. I would start stuff, call them names when they try to leave. I would hold them down and lock them in rooms. Just the meanest things I could think of for no reason at all. Xans just make you angry sometimes. I pushed a lot of good girls away like this.

By this time I secured a good lean plug. It was weed, xans and lean on a daily basis. My same cuzo coming back from college said “Ay them xans be having you moody as hell, tweakin sometimes.” I’m like yea.

He like “This the shit right here. I left them xans alone,” and he gave me a percocet. He said the xan was basically green lean and percs was that purple. He said “It make you itch, but you can fuck all night and it just make everything you do feel 10x better like the purple.”

I took it again with no hesitation. Another drug added to my repertoire.

I realized that I was doing between 90 and 180 mg a day of pure oxycodone, so I said “Let me slow down.” I took a break, 2 days later found myself in the E.R. sweating bullets but freezing cold. My stomach felt like I had a midget in there doing summersaults. They couldn't figure out what was wrong. Of course I didn't tell them about the percs. I didn't think that was a problem, plus I hadn't done them in 2-3 days, how could that be it.

I got home, told my cuz what my symptoms were. He asked “When you last take a perk?” I said “a few days. I’m giving them a break. I've been over abusing em.” He said, "You got some?”

I’m like “Yea.” He said “You sound dope sick. Take 1 and if you feel better, you a dope head.”

The pain I was in, I would've done anything to feel better.

So I did and 10 minutes later I was damn near footworking. It was embarrassing. I was a dope head.

My body was strung out and needed percs just to feel normal.

Then I met this girl. She was a real situation. Always having fun, partying, traveling. She just knew how to have fun. One day we were riding around and she said, “the white guy downtown buy a lot of weed from you. We stay having to come here.” I said "He don’t smoke, he buy coke.” Her eyes lit up like fireworks on the 4th of July. She said, “let me see.” Rest was history.

When we would have sex she would be wayyy more alive than me. One time she brought a girl for a threesome, they were both coked out acting rambunctious. Out of desperation to keep up with them, I said, “give me some of that shit.”

Now my sex drive is through the roof because I’m taking all these drugs that make me horny. I’m also monogamously challenged so I’m cheating bi daily, if not daily. So once again I got slowed down with another girl that cared more than my 3-am-WYA-text-lusties.

At this point all I was left with is a medley of drugs that had been done in a specific fashion. I needed 2 percs just to get out of bed, coke for the energy to do daily tasks, xanax to balance them out and weed needed to be burned throughout the day just because it was a habit and lean at the end of the day to go to sleep.

Now at this point my health is declining. My care for anything or anyone in general that didn't have nothing to do with my daily fixtures was of no use whatsoever. I was mentally and emotionally detached from the world.

I was getting into so much BS and also avoiding all my problems, letting everything just overload. It wasn't untilI I got arrested and held with no bail that I realized how dumb I was being, how much time I was missing out on from being with my kids and family. Now I’m in jail not having that option. Feeling like the lowest piece of trash on earth.

Traded precious time that I can't get back for drugs I thought I needed. Drugs that were eating the lining of my stomach. Drugs that were confiscating my memory. Drugs that veto my hunger and rob me of my muscle fat, leaving me looking like a skeleton.

I’m sure if I wasn’t arrested I would be dead from either an overdose, an underdose or for simply doing something stupid.

Battling addiction is an everyday fight. But if you don't start, you don't have to worry about stopping. But if you do start you might not get a chance to stop before it's too late.

Aaron Okelola I Am From I am from Noble Square, 1100 From the Circle and the black top I am from mother’s house, where everybody go for Xmas and Thanksgiving I am from the cross the street sto Where I couldn’t go unless I was with big bro I’m from John John knocking on the door And Malik pissing on the floor From playing 007 on Nintendo 64 And from don’t go past the pink bricks And from don’t dirty up your kicks I’m from you can do whatever you believe I’m from the 13th floor From homemade everything and slushies in a blender From my Grams correcting all my grammar I am from love Because everyone in the hood related one way or another

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright

2024 ConTextos