                Lucki(you called me)
The opioid crisis is one that, unfortunately, too many people can relate to. Whether it be them, a friend, or a close family member, it is a topic that hits close to home with many Americans. And its been then way since the early 90’s. “The number of opioid prescriptions dispensed by doctors steadily increased from 112 million prescriptions in 1992 to a peak of 282 million in 2012, according to the market research firm IMS Health”(CNN). A lot of people blame the music that the younger generation is listening to nowadays, as a main culprit in this epidemic. This is due to the various references to drugs that a majority of rap artists use. Such an influence spans outside the “hood”, especially today. Kids from a suburban neighborhood, or kids who didn’t necessarily grow up in a bad neighborhood, might be listening to the same artist that a kid living in the Bronx, or in the projects is listening to. And both are hearing the same words as each other. People love to give the argument that drugs are being depicted in a false manner, that drugs are being glorified. But, not all rappers are built the same.
Lucki (formerly known as Lucki Eck$), is a rapper from Chicago. I personally have been a fan of Lucki for a few years now, but his music is starting to “blow up” for the lack of a better term. Like a lot of artists today, he is known for his references to controlled substances. Now, I can you rolled your eyes, but its not in the way you might think. Lucki talks about the dark side of the pills he takes, the drink he sips, how its all killing him slowly. And he knows it. But he’s in the hands of the drug, and seems to have little to no control of his needs. Lucki also talks about his personal problems with depression. About how he uses drugs to “block out” all of the bad things that are going on in his life. The drugs help him forget. I think the point Lucki is trying to make is that all of these people around him are fake, “smiling when they losing”. But, even though people call him an addict, and label him as one, he is more genuine than most. This is because Lucki expresses his raw emotions, what life, and drugs, and depression, and withdrawal are doing to him, how its affecting Him. He may conceal his depression, but doesn’t ignore that fact that it still exists. ((Lucki reminds us that turning to drugs for helps may help short term, but controls your life in the long run.))
The time is 12:35 am. I am returning home from work, hands aching. The blisters on my hands remind me of the work I put in during my shift. I’m listening to my music, as I usually do. I pause my music, just for a second-and the stark contrast of the dead silence makes me remember where I am. The  faint smell of beer permeates the cart, most likely coming from the homeless man sleeping on the far opposite end. I know this because a bunch of malt liquor seemed to have tipped over. I periodically shift from side to side, swaying along with the train as it makes its way through its destined path. I am watching all of the building pass by. Most of the window lights are off, but equally as much are on, burning midnight oil. Listening to Lucki, I feel like I am not so alone in my thoughts, Even though no one is there, I am not alone. I am more accepting of who I am.
