City Heights (San Diego, California)

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  N_B (guest)

  College teaches us to do many useful things. Back in the day when 6 or 7 dollars bought you a 40, a pack of cigarettes and a carne asada burrito. Where gangbanging in some neighborhoods was so deep, that at a stop light in the middle of the day you’d see older men (if you could call them that) trying to jump young kids and the back of your car would get hit with a rock. While driving by late at night you’d see the blue light and flash of a gat, and under the alcoves of Mexican stores shadows running, in front of the sound of glass breaking. Where as you drive by in the middle of the day, kids and teenagers would be tagging up the side of buildings. So what they did was destroy the neighborhood by making a freeway run through it, destroying all the projects and shack homes of the poorest of the poor on 40th street, forcing them into the neighboring streets of poor neighborhoods. Until problems multiplied in example where supermarkets left abandoned buildings behind because of hypes boosting meats everyday, and people jacking liquor sections with backpacks full daily. It took buildings to become police stations so big that you could land helicopters on top of them, and even wanna be presidents to visit during democratic conventions in downtown. So taco shops become Denny’s, and liquor stores, Laundromats and check-cashing places became Starbuck’s and gas stations. Forcing the poor to move again, to the poorest of the poor streets, where the poor population was so thick that English was spoke only half the time, a cop car was seen every 1 to 2 minutes. Where arcades and park community centers got turned into police sub stations. And so the poor kept moving, into the darkest and densest of the neighborhoods, where those who survive and come out are miracles. Kids ride by on bikes and try to sell you guns. The strangest things about rains are seeing all the cops wearing yellow jackets. Where you come home to getting your place robbed, either seeing them do it or feeling their presence as they just fled seconds before you opened the door. Where so many people die in their front yards. Where enough people got hit in their head with a thing heavy enough to break concrete, losing their teeth or becoming retarded. Where it was common to have a homie who turned schizophrenic, or would forever find ways to hide their face because of drugs. Where you found used pocket pussies at the foot of canyons and in alleys. Where cops let K-9s chew on your arm for 5 minutes. Pit bulls hang off tires from trees. But it was a lot of nice cars, and good music would blare out from them or homes where people would stand in doorways, and there would be young lovers showing their skin, colors that differentiate from those who moved in to 30th and 40th street.

  13 years ago | reply | hide comment