So finally after all these years I watched.
American Me.
My nickname threw high school, my name on the street. Finally understanding a reason for the name. Don’t get me wrong I knew that I was the one white guy in the sense of Hispanic culture. But after seeing J.D. and how he just fit in, how that color didn’t matter because he respected the street and respected and embraced the culture. To me and probably to J.D. it just feels right, like you belong your actually a part of the familia. No matter how long I’m gone for those street those people, those homies (Yayo, Compita, Uly, Goofy, so many more) always accept me with open arms. No other place I would rather be then in East Los.
Food For thought
It’s amazing how much you actually learn from a white wall. It’s like a blank canvas waiting to be painted on, a place were your mind could run wild. You can just look at it and create every thought that you fear, or want, dream, dare. But it’s amazing that sometimes when you stare at the blankness you can clear your thoughts since there is nothing to distract you from the rest of the world and then it just seems like answers to those questions your never really willing to spend time on finally jump out at you in full effect.
