Fuck this place, I’m out…
I grew up poor. Really poor. To steal a line from Chris Rock, we grew up so poor we couldn’t afford the O R at the end of the word, we were just PO. hahaha. Still accurate. But my childhood poverty isn’t the point of this post. I mention it because growing up I had to watch all my friends going on family vacations to Disneyland and the Phillipines and Mexico and wherever their families were in the world while I roamed my asphalt jungle like a half wild animal in a cage. I always vowed that I would see the world someday. It was a fervent childhood promise full of idealism and hope, as only a child can conjure. In my heartbreak of being left behind and alone to fend for myself all summer, I knew, in my bones…I just KNEW… I’d go out there and see the world some day. Even as those bitter tears streamed down my little cheeks, the fire to see the world, the one I only ever read about in books, burned deep in my soul. … … … Fast forward a few decades. I’ve seen some shit. Travelled to