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I don’t know about this crazy world, all I know is I found this guy on lonely street in the midst of summer heat. He was rollin on wheels against the crackling pavement, facing me and my mismatched socks. I was a child of life size arcade games, Tab, phen-fen, the Who and it’s hard. Ragged was my mind and torn were his clothes, chrome tops of lighters he placed strategically clasping the collar so they sparkled in the sun, this kinda fashion statement allured me, I might be yours, I’m done. His military green vest covered with punk patches, Crass and Minor Threat and Bad Brains. Another sign of order versus chaos, or perhaps just a simple taste in music. 

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Oakland. California. I found home there with our matching lack of tan and lack of plan. The noise all around us, all the cacophony of cell phone signals and street trades happening fifty handshakes at a time and stab you in the back, all the street artists tagging ten walls a time and crazy out there talking themselves into some kinda trouble by pure accident…  (Ame and the Tangy Energetic, Book#3)