the boyz in the hood, they're alwayz hard...
i once considered that had my person been cultivated in the hood, or in a hood of any sort, that things may not have turned out any differently. this doesn't necessarily frighten me, nor does it interject any significant level of fate-based vision on my part.
currently, i live in the city. i'm close enough to the beach to matter. and i'm not home enough to care. i consistently wake up to sub-par videos on the television, though i rarely make a change in that regard. i take more time planning the discs in my car's changer than i do in planning a rare day when i'm slotted to do development work in my office. packing for a business trip is an art i'm studying. a well fitting suit can be drastically underrated. red wine every night, and there are very few exceptions to that, no matter what city i'm in. my cell minutes in a given month surprise me. every time.
i think that somewhere in between here and there, these are some of the things that could matter to someone.
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