Editor’s notes: Ray once told me you can’t be a full time gangster and have long-term relationships. So I asked him to write about gangsters and relationships. What he wrote about relationships is pretty sad.
But I remember he told me how he met a woman named Klaudya with fond memory, like a movie script with initial dialogues they had and a fight scene between Klaudya and another girl. His nick name Low Low (as in low rider because he liked to wear baggy pants) was given by a woman who came running to him, yelling “Low Low” after he disappeared from the neighborhood for a while and reemerged. He also told me how he could relate to Edmund in The Count of Monte Cristo (a book I sent to him) when he was first locked up. “The Count of Monte Cristo” is a great book. As I was reading the book, I remembered that I had seen the movie, which is good, but the book is better. So, I can picture Edmund. It’s sad when he gets locked up. I can relate because when I first got locked up, I had this female, and well, that’s the first thing I thought about – her. As I’m sitting in the cop car in handcuffs, I felt sad because I wouldn’t be able to be with her. Every day, I thought of her; every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. It’s sad, really, Iris, so I felt his pain.” There were happy moments and not so happy moments but all in all, it does seem that relationships with a gangster can be best described as tumultuous.

“I honestly ain’t really good at this.” This would be the realest thing you ever said, kid. In this life, probably the realest thing you can ever say to a female. They may not understand, but it’s life, fam, or your life, which is crazy and twisted, so you just keep on moving, fam. Fast, don’t slow down, just go, fam, and don’t look back. So your thoughts run in that direction, forward, until you meet a girl, and you think about it. She makes you think about it, stop, and listen. Sigh! Something about a woman does this, and it’s true for every male. Thing is, you’re a gangster, and your life is twisted, and you’re poison for her, and she won’t understand this until it hurts her fully.

A relationship with me, the kid that’s lost? Can she save you, help you? Nah, no one can; only you can save yourself, fam. But they always try. It doesn’t work. You can’t change a person who ain’t willing; you can’t change a person that’s lost, fam, only you can change and save yourself, fam, only you.

Relationships with the kid? Damn! A good female ruined is the result, believe me, I’ve done it. How can someone have something so beautiful yet ruin it to the point that it will never be the same? She told me once, ‘I wish you loved me as much as you love your gang.’ Another female said, ‘Why do you live this life?’ The kid couldn’t even respond. What could he say? Even if he spoke the right words, it wouldn’t even make sense to him. He’s corrupted, he’s dark, he’s twisted, and he’s too far gone.

You will only hurt women when you live this life, you disappoint and let them down, you make them cry for you, and you don’t even care because if you did, then you’d be there for her, love her. But that word is nonexistent, that word is lost to you, even if you feel warmth. You’re so lost; you don’t feel it inside.

Relationships, kid? Nah, those aren’t for you, fam, it’s gang, fam, and nothing else. You’re better off just having one-night stands, lil homie. Even then, females get attached. ‘Stay with me; I’ll keep you out of trouble,’ she said again, with the loss of words, again with the leaving and running. She takes it as you discarding her like she’s nothing; her facial expressions look plain as day. She doesn’t understand, fam, what you’ve been through, your life; this has made you this way. She doesn’t know that life has poisoned me to the point that I’ve never been the same. She doesn’t see nor feel your pain because fuck that pain, because fuck life, fuck the world, it’s gang, and I’M a gangster, fam, a real gangster, and destruction makes the kid feel so much better… I love you… she said. ‘I love you, babe…’ No answer. She cries… I leave, and she pulls on me, but I still leave. I can’t feel anything, fam, but inside, deep down inside, you feel it, the warmth of her words. She’s gone… now you feel them, ha! Kid, you’re poison, kid, you’re a monster, accept it, live and, and fuck it. If I die, then in my grave, I’ll die a gangster.

Can you feel the darkness of this, kid? Many of you can’t understand; many will try, many will fail… ‘I love you,’ she said… were the last words you heard, the tiny bits of warmth that you refused to acknowledge and embraced evil. Love, kid? Relationships for the kid? Lost kid, you’re lost, admit it, you’re lost…

Editor’s notes: Despite the professed complexity of maintaining a relationship, Ray remains optimistic and a rather romantic view about relationship. Recently when I joked about starving due to prison lock down and slimming down may look good on him, he said in his email dated 09/13, “Slim trim might look good on me:) ha! I don’t like being skinny. I like to have some muscle on me:) that way I can pick a female up and carry her around with me ” He also has names for his future daughter and son. “I have a name for my daughter when I have one. It’s Milliahny, the name I got from the word million. It’s pronounced (milli-ahh-nee). It’s unique, right? My son will be (Aric), like my middle name. Already got names for the gremlins:) ha! “