African American

Memoires of a Late Bloomer

spoke to mom the other day and she’s all ecstatic about living in Florida.  Let her tell it; Florida’s the warmer version of New York.   I’m just not so sure that’s a good thing anymore.   I used to feen for a taste of  New York with a warmer climate 365 days of the year.  But I’ve gotten all quiet and grown accustomed to suburbia.   I don’t know how I’d fare in “warmer New York” these days.   I’m just not the 20 yr old I used to be.   I don’t quite see things the same and I no longer wake up yearning for the sound of gunshots in the morning or the 5 train coming from Baychester avenue, rattling the windows in the afternoon.   I miss hangin with my friends in Eastchester projects.  Rollin 13 deep to the liquor store and deep throatin that bottle of Bacardi (ahhh well Not so much the Bacardi, but just the camaraderie).  

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