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My immediate thought is rage. Another fucking gun fires shots in my neighborhood. I practice restraint--I don't get a gun and put holes in the shooter's head. Clear thinking is down the drain, obscured by the sidewalk painted red. This moment's opinion: this asshole's better off dead.

Two worlds separated by a forty-foot wide strip of pavement, a concrete line. To disavow community and keep us divided, distrusting and hating one another.

My second thought is fear, as the getaway car drives by on my left. Ten eyes staring back at me; any look of threat could mean my death. Anticipation's cusp in near, but the story this book's based on is true. This moment's opinion: I hope I live to tell my story to you.

Two worlds separated by a forty-foot wide strip of pavement, a concrete line. To disavow community and keep us divided, distrusting and hating one another.

Then I'm left with despair, after ascertaining my life will go on. No bullets were meant for me, but they were meant for someone... It's happened before, it'll happen again; I can't see how it'll ever end. This moment's opinion: I'm suffocated by the impossible repair.

One night while being frisked, I learned that the wrong side of the street has implications of suspicion, and we're forced to surrender our rights to either side. They're taught "black", we're taught "white", and interaction is not just discouraged, it's denied. In the words of Ricardo, a neighbor I broke the walls and and met, "I used to deal drugs, and that I do regret. But I was even able to pay bills for my friends." Security and poverty in exchange for a dangerous means to an end.

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from Profanity in Hi​-​Fi: Splits'n'Comps, released June 15, 2011

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