small, curvy, bumpy roads,
they're not comfortable but they bring you places.
I've had to come from big highways to come back to these roads to remember...what Ramirez has taught me.
The hawkers, they never seem to die, they still back at their same corners, selling their same specialty, only filled with more white hair than ever, but they ain't dead yet.
And that hot hot humid heat, the breath of life that burns in my lungs still tastes drier than ever, it makes me love the darkness but also realise how cold it can be.
There is still not much vanity on the island compared to the city, people are simpler and could not give a rats ass what lies beyond the bridge.
Those of us who have left to find a bigger world, find an endless road that leads to the lives of others, though similar but far from comforting.
Let us not forget where we came from and those who choose to identify their origins, we are all part of something big but immensely diverse.
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