“This isn’t an essay or simply a woe-is-we narrative about how hard it is to be a black boy in America. This is a lame attempt at remembering the contours of slow death and life in America for one black American teenager under Central Mississippi skies. I wish I could get my Yoda on right now and…
Random things I like, Find amusing, or so on. Perhaps eventually there will be some sort of narrative going on here. But I'd not hold my breath.
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