fucking miserable.

Today is strange.

The streets of trench town were filled with kids, especially since school had just gotten out. 

It's kinda a bad habit to generalize... so i'll have to go back again one day so i can learn more about the Jamaican youth. I've only had a couple days of hanging out with them...

there was one point where Stacey 9, pushed me out the way and said, "move" as she looked me up and down. i later asked her what her idea of rude was? in a way, it was kinda rude how i had asked her and i somewhat regret it... she assured me of my guilt when she said, "no." but later she had a bag of chips in her hands and said, "this is you" as she crushed it with her hands.

Closer to Equator

where Bob Marley learned his songs.

Trenchtown, JA

homemade pie on the patio for lunch

overturned mangrove on the beach

Where my father grew up

the bridge of Spanish town.

Spanish town is the old capital of Jamaica. This is the reminisce of the government block. It's slowly being worn down, brick by brick... once and a while, some Jamaicans remove bits and pieces by hand and resell them to make new buildings. 

Dear friends who have decided to come visit my site again,

as you might notice, there has been a bit of a change.

THERE IS A MISUNDERSTANDING ABOUT THE WORLD.

here is a straightened up version of what should be.

i comb my hair and dab my lips with a napkin... to present to you...

the new and improved technikolly.

fuckyou