I am leaving the country in February to either seek political asylum or get the U.S. Embassy involved. A Lyft driver stole my film school laptop out of my bag after I left a filmmaking workshop and the police did nothing even though I contacted them immediately. It was not happenstance at the MacBook Pro and it’s accessories were the only thing missing. They items were purchased via a vocational rehab program for classes at The Los Angeles Film School for my career. They contained a lot of unfinished screenplays and films that were in the processes of being edited and completed. This is not an isolated incident.Please write your Congressperson, the Governor of Oklahoma and the Mayor of Los Angeles and ask for a full and fair investigation of the privacy violations, civil rights violations and the theft of my property I have endured. LAPD report # 22110300000263.

Respectfully,

Enrico J. Green

www.linkedIn.com/in/hollywoodenrico

Filmmaker | Actor | Writer | Atheist | LGBTQ Ally

#lonelypenguin

#lonelypenguin

#redfall2020

Oh, how r u guys?

I’m the only one the planet earth who even understands what love really is...

#redfall2020

#redfall2020

#redfall2020

If you have multiple kids by multiple men and ain’t married none of them your religion isn’t christian it’s ho....

I was in elementary and we lived in this house on G avenue. A duplex. And behind us was this little boy and his mom and dad and I used to go play with him sometimes. He had the entire collection of these toys called “MASK” that matched the cartoon TV show. He was in a grade lower than mine. His mom would give us snacks and we could reenact the entire show right after watching it. Sometimes we’d change the ending so that the bad guys won. One day his mom started complaining about niggers and having to be around them. Then she looked at me and said “not you Rico, you’re one of the good ones.” And she smiled at me.

I looked around and their house was clean. The cookies were sweet and the milk was cold. Her dad wasn’t home. The house wasn’t filled with trash like mine, the refrigerator didn’t have rotten food. So I swallowed my pride and smiled back. And my friend smiled at me. His dad would be home soon and we’d get to climb in the back of his pick-up truck.

We went back to the toys and this time we made it so that the good guys won. My friend and the good nigger.

For my friend C. L.,

A goth girl from Mexico who was stranded on the middle of Oklahoma with me. The first person I met who was proud not to fit in. Her only rules were:

1) never call her “Carlingas” because that was the nickname the kids used to tease and bully her with in Mexico...for being fair skinned and pale. Not like the others.

2) I must listen to her music. Somehow she found out about #smashingpumpkins and #Nirvana before anyone. She was like that. She knew all the stuff before it ever came on the radio. It was like magic. I much preferred N.W.A. and Ice-T, but good music is good music.

We both were fatherless and we both lived with sisters who got on our last fucking nerves. We both liked Daria.

Then I went to USC and she went to Georgetown but we talked and mostly talked about how we were cooler than everyone else sitting stuck in Oklahoma. Her running off to DC and me running off to Los Angeles. Then she got sick and she kept calling me complaining. One day she called and said cracked a joke “ do you know anyone white Mexicans with extra bone marrow?”

She got cancer.

Not even 21.

We met in Oklahoma again and she was bald and fearless. She didn’t hide it. People stated. We talked about how much cooler we were than everyone else because we was tried and ran out of money, but we swung for the fences. And then she asked me to take her virginity before she died. She didn’t want to die a virgin and I didn’t....it was too big of a burden. I could not bear it. She didn’t speak to me for a while after that. But she got over it, and then told me don’t hit on her sister when she was gone. I told het don’t talk like that, you’re going to live forever in your twenties after all. Leukemia isn’t something that vodka can’t cure.

I went away to Alaska after that, working at a military base pretending the Russians were invading. Some secret project. She called and said she was dying soon. I told her to hold on until the project was done. I needed the money. She said she would try.

She died before I saw her again.

I skipped the funeral and stayed in Alaska to finish the weapon project. The Russians never invaded and congress defunded the weapon.

I loved Ben Folds Five. “Whatever and Ever Amen” was dying to be sampled with all those pianos. And what kind of rock band has pianos anyways? Then “Brick” came out and it blew me away. Who was this girl and what was this brick?

Finally, years after it had left the chart Ben Folds revealed the story behind that song. It was devastatingly haunting. He sung about it though.

I’m nowhere near as famous as him... yet 😉

But here is the story behind one of my songs.

I wrote this song “End of Message” from the perspective of one of my mom’s live in boyfriends. His name was ‘Golden Kelly.’ He taught me to tie my shoes. He also taught me that monsters were men. I stoped him from beating my mom to death in elementary school. We got evicted from the trailer park where the incident occurred. His parole was violated and he ended up in McAlaster State Prison, where he eventually hung himself. He wrote my mother a letter before he committed suicide. My mother cried and I felt guilty. They were both monsters in their own way which is perhaps they were a perfect match.

This is song written from what I imagine his perspective was. What does a horrible person say and feel when he’s in love? And is his love valid?

I made the song while living in a suite at the Tokyo Dai-Ichi Hotel Grandmer in Okinawa, Japan for a year.

I hope you find the time to listen to and it enjoy it.