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About San Diego

This one time, I’m chattin’ her up, she’s all, “What you want, boo?” I’m stutterin’, actin’ dumb, and she hits me with, “Time’s money, let’s go.” Cold as ice! Made me mad, like—bitch, I’m Drake, respect the name! But also, lowkey, I was hyped—she owned it. Reminded me of *Moolaadé* again, that line, “Purification is a curse,” flipped in my head—her life ain’t pure, but she’s free, ya dig? Got me emotional—happy she’s real, pissed at the game she’s stuck in.

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Tang-ier than a Key West key lime, spicier than an 8th St. prostitute, and saltier than a Coconut Grove shrimper. Coconut Grove, FL. Grand Ave, Miami.

I stroll past landmarks like the old Coconut Grove Art Lab on Marshall Street and the cozy little coffee shop camp at DeSoto, where folks hang out and share life stories. The street names here? Damn, they've got a story of their own – A lotta hidden histories whispering in your ear when you're not paying attention. I mean, most folks just walk by, but as a fam psy, I peek into every cracked sidewalk and shadowed alley – sometimes it makes me laugh, sometimes mad, sometimes even kinda teary. Like real-life psycho-drama in slow mo.

Bicyclist hospitalized after hit-and-run in Coconut Grove