|Twenty years earlier a series of photos where being taking.
The general had a character he’d practiced in the mirror until the character became who is identified as himself, as well as a learned lean and limp he would give up later in his career; simply because it would hurt his hip to hold his waste like that, and the fact that he would no-longer have anything to prove.
He walked the corner of seventh and Kanesworth as surveillance cameras snapped shots of him openly selling drugs (But more to the truth:
He was giving people what they wanted, and were going to get somewhere if not from him.
He was too busy to make the rounds to peoples houses.
An older man in his mid twenties appeared on the street corner buying what he had, the general (who at the time still went by the name Joseph Framton) kept passing the crap he got off on this sucker who seemed happy to buy it.
Joseph was so young and cocky that he didn’t even think to wonder what the catch might be.
“ Hey ‘90 proof’ I don’t want to buy the dried up shit anymore. I bought that shit to start a dialog with you”.
“If you don’t like what I’m giving you go someplace else. And my mother calls me Joseph. Are you trying to disrespect my mother by calling me some whack as shit, cuz this is my corner, this is where I live.”
“Alright big 90 P, you don’t know how right you are. Here is where you get to live”
“What are you trying to say?”, he asked as his anger grew.“ Cuz youngster I know things you don’t” Technically I’ve been around longer, and you look like a ‘90 proof’ to me.”
“What ever you crazy ass, you smoke too much of that bunk I sell you.”
“Actually I don’t smoke any. I just buy it get your attention. You, just you- by fortune, chance, manipulation or design (I donno which, I’m thinking it doesn’t matter either) But the result is the same- out of all these kids on the corners of the Nonagon- you are going to be the one that ‘lives large’ as your generation puts it.
Don’t take it to your head.”