I’ve always wanted to be a superhero. I’ve even had dreams were I can jump, fly, and destroy things with my fists at will. Lucid dreaming. However, I can’t do those things in real life. Though I’ve had instances were I act out like my favorite superheros. For instance, Monkey D. Luffy the charismatic rubber-man from One Piece is one of the superhero’s I seem to implement a lot in real life.
Monkey D. Luffy or Luffy, is a 18-year old boy who has eaten a magical fruit that has turned him into rubber. Gum-Gum Fruit has given him the ability to stretch any body part great distances. He can blow himself up like a balloon increasing his mass. Luffy also has the power to scare people because of his mere presents. Luffy is extremely optimistic even when everyone around him seems to be upset. He has a brute fighting style only fighting with his body, no weapons. Luffy’s goal is to be the Pirate King ( In a world of pirates and Naval forces who are trying to become or defeat the Pirate King).
Now I’ll give some examples on how identify with Luffy. I’m a wrestle, and this means I;m always fighting and battles with an opponent like Luffy. I only use my body, and skills to defeat my opponents. I want to become a NCAA National Champion as well. This identifies with Luffy’s desire to become Pirate King. I’m always optimistic about things that seem to have a negative potential to them. I’m also extremely confident in my skills within life, not just wrestling.
I remember in high school I had aspirations of becoming a state champion in wrestling. I was going into my district tournament to qualify for the state tournament. Now I’ve never won the district tournament before. At the time I always watched One Piece trying to emulate Luffy. I had the opportunity to become a state champ. So, faced with a lot of difficult odds, I gradually won matches leading to my final match in districts, to go to states. Like Luffy, I was very confident and optimistic about winning to advance to states. I used my wrestling superpowers to defeat my opponent, who was projected to win the tournament. That gave me great joy. I emulated Luffy in that moment as well.
My day one hon was an Ice queen. Her heart, made of ion sub and rich with pain. Her and I was six years old when we first met at day care. I crossed her each day, in hope that she would talk to me. Though I grew keen, and arise to her and said,” Hey girl, who yo name is”. She gave me back her shot,” No boy, I’m too cute for you”. I fell in to a world of pain at that point. I would punch her to show her how true my love was for her. She’d turn me down each time. I’d spill my food in her hair and make a mess to show her I could be a tough guy.That just made her cry. I thought that was a good way to get to her heart, but it would just make her mad at me. So I beat up some kid in our class to show my strength. At last she talks to me and has me beat kids up. I was fine with that, til one day our day care tough guy gave her a hard time. This was my chance to show I’m the best for her. So, I took the fight to this kid, and… I got my ass beat. I still hate that kid til this day. As for my crush, she’s a whore now. Too bad.
Hannibal Ali Tate is my name. My father, a black nationalist and Muslim convert, named me after the Ancient Carthage Army General, Hannibal Barca. Hannibal Barca is famed for crossing the Alps Mountains to fight the great Roman Army in Italy. Hannibal was a successful Commander, winning many battles against the powerful Roman army. Outnumbered Hannibal, devised schemes and formations to cripple the Roman army. However in the end Hannibal’s campaign came to an end, because of the lack of numbers that Hannibal had. Overwhelmed Hannibal stopped fighting and hid for over twenty years. Eventually Hannibal killed himself to avoid the persecution from the Romans. Anyway, my Dad was born in the fifties were Civil right movements like, the Black Panthers were active and gathering in numbers. My name reflects the fight against racism within my father’s life. Even for me, my name has influenced my life greatly. I’ve won wrestling matches simply because the guy whom I was facing knew my name and saw my black skin. They tell me this, I’m not assuming at all. All and all I love my name and it is one of my greatest assets.
First of all, I love the name Hannibal. So to change that would be of great significance to my life. Not in a good way either. Though, if I were to change my name I’d change it to, Abena Dada Tolong. The entire name is African, because I’m African American. Abena means,” born on a Tuesday.” My new lifestyle would consist of me going to the club every Tuesday and lighting it up. Dada means rejoice, because in the days of being on a farm I’d rejoice for the peace I’d have. Tolong has no meaning or origin, it’s like Malcolm X, but Tolong. So I’d move to a small town in California with nothing but farmland and a Diner Bar. I’d live in peace with my cows, chickens, and porn star wife, Skin Diamond. Every Monday I’d drive to the biggest club in L.A get wasted with my wife and her friends from work. I’d live a promiscuous life, doing cocaine, and pimpin’ hoes for two nights straight. Then I’d retire to my farm for five days, drive to L.A and do it all over again.For ten years I’d do this and be completely happy.
Zelasco was the last person i met. Yielding my urge to goof around I took a deep breathe. Xanax. White people was all I saw the first time I set foot in Petersen hall. Versus us, was the football team full of black players. Undone, I knew I was the only black person on my wrestling team. The only time there was another black person on my wrestling team, was when me and my brother wrestled. So this time wouldn’t be any different, however I felt something in the air. Right as i thought i was all alone. Quiet little loner who’d only dream of a friend who knew my struggle. ” Pow” he broke through my door with a pair of Jordan’s on. On top of his head rested a Snapback with the Chicago Bulls plastered on it. “Only God can judge me (Tupac).” Now Tupac was playing in the background as though his angel had just resurrected him from the dead. Mountain tops rang their silver bells, while the valleys deep voice sang Amazing Grace. L.A. street gangs may a peace treaty. KKK members gather around in a circle to sing Kumbaya as though Hitler returned to tell them he actually doesn’t mine Jews. Just as I thought that I wouldn’t have someone to receive my black brotherly love (pause). Inching closer. ” Hey”, he said. “Great” I responded with so much excitement I just told how I felt right off the bat. “Fuck Yeah!” we screamed collectively as though we knew what each other was thinking. Each of us knew how exciting it was to have someone like yourself to have with you now. Doubts about survival went right out the door. Connections, connected. Brothers created. As the days went by though we hated each other, Goddammit.
As I struggled to come out the front door, the doc yelled ” Push”. “Breathe, breathe”, my dad reassured mom after every scream. Couldn’t see, yet mucus and juice riddled my body. Don’t ever go to our families water park party. Either we’d have my funny uncle, a doctor, pushing us out the door at 9:00 am or yelling push to scare us out. Funny uncle’s just aren’t that funny after high school. “Gamgam”, that’s what I called my mom, would scream going down the water rides, so my dad would reassure her safety. Hated being stuck with the kids, who’d spill juice and snot on me. I’m regressing from the point. Jargon was my native as a kid. Kind of a big thing for me then around around nine, ten years old. Learning how to speak was a challenge. Mine you that my mom never learned how to read. Nothing further from a illiterate became the topic of how my uncle would describe me. Older than her brother, my mom made sure that my uncle had an education though. ” Pace yourself, just keep going”, (my Mother). Quite the woman, I had thought of her to be. Ready and willing my father would always take me and my siblings to tutoring class. So as long as I’ve been alive, I’ve always knew that I’ll have my family. Tate-Brown. Unity is our badge of honor. Vicious ass whooping for any sibling that chose not to follow. Well, I guess it’s just a dictatorship as a child. Xanax. Young and obedient is what they taught me, so when I got older i could be free with a choice. Zebras are black and white, that last thing is a choice to get done sorry, P.J.