The Story of NAS



The Sanctuary SafeHaven
by NAS (Never Angry Smile)

I’ve rewritten my story many times, and I had to question myself did I want to keep reliving the past and all the trauma it caused? I don’t enjoy it- though it’s who I am in a sense. Trauma can be beautiful as I’ve learned that as a writer, I can change as I write… as I take each new step to something greater; more positive.

I stepped onto Venice Beach not knowing exactly what my greater purpose was or why I was called there. I only knew that I had to take care of me in the present, at that moment in time and trust in my process and God of course. I thought of only to enjoy the perks that came along with being Homefree. I wasn’t alone. We all stood together but separately. I immediately noticed and ruled out the people that gave off uneasy energy. Mind games were played like Fortnite. Some of the tactics were evaded but some I could not escape until it was too late. Those were the cons of being a woman and Homefree, men prayed like wild wolves. It would start out as them trying to explain their entire life story, because anyone Homefree can relate to trauma. Then the conversation would break into a more comfortable tone, and gifts are offered.

I learned not to accept gifts because it always belonged to someone. I laid low and stayed out of circles that tainted my overall look. I didn’t want to look like I was apart of something I didn’t stand for. Drugs mostly. The confusion became adamant of me not needing any help with building my home. “No help, no reason for them to say they did anything for you”. It gets thrown in your face later. Trust me, staying independent gives off the mystery of who you are. “No information, no strategies on ways to move about you”. It was shocking to come across any woman on the beach that was clean they said. Most of the women that come to Venice Beach, become zombies after a week they further explained. Growing up, I was often called “Crack Head” from my family. I was skinny and looked fairly different from my two sisters. My first aunt who I favored took a loss with drugs and they often would predict my life to turn out as hers. I vowed I’d never loose myself. Because drugs weren’t my thing anyway, but to piss them off. The Taurus in me.

Besides the weird antics of some individuals, the beach held a community of lost ones I like to call. Lost can be found so I didn’t give up hope for any, but held my boundaries as I soon learned more about them. The ways of finding a way into someone’s bubble became more creative from the people. I soon made it harder for them to contact my energy directly; as we were out in an open space- I created a fence using tent poles which then became bamboo sticks along my adventures of Dumpster Diving. My tent surrounded by a clear barrier for those to see only one way in or out. I used common sense to teach or remind them of common decency. They complied. My home soon became the place to sit, talk, paint, listen to music, read and share clarity for all the Homefree. They were normal again inside the sacred place. Those who did not wish to maintain positive energy or where on drugs which made them irate were banished until they were sober or banish for a few days. They complied more each day as my voice was my weapon of defense. Setting boundaries was my new hobby. I was learning old things we all honestly forgot about. To be kind.

My name became an acronym when people would ask “Like the rapper?” Yes like the rapper Nas. I created “Never Angry Smile” in light of my own reflection and the water boy that would plan his daily routine to walk up and down the boardwalk selling beverages and snacks. The name “Water Boy” became redundant and I soon made it my business to learn his name. He made Venice! I figured, if he is as happy to see me everyday, and speaks daily… I must make sure that I’m happy to keep him going. The good karma echos like sun ray’s on the beach. We all have a good day. I soon learned my significance on the Beach. Everyone confided in me. It was for the one time that I wasn’t the only one ranting about my problems. So I learned to listen as well. Given that Iam proclaimed to be a stubborn bull, I often look mean because of the steady rate of thoughts running through me head, giving that concentrated look. The “Yo Nas” was my que to smile, because they were counting on it. I couldn’t let them down, they were already down. I was down.