Street life

I’m a Mexi-Redneckian , a veterano , from the streets of east side phoenix, a Chicano, ran with Brown Pride, in the Barrio, ran the streets, wild with the heat, gang fights, wild nights, flying high, rode the border with the law due to crime. Made it out the hood , lost friends, Jail time, shot at so many times and god bless being one of the lucky ones, a missed event from Taking a life, thank the lord , that would have lead to concrete and bars doing life.

Rough streets, drugs and creating a rough life. Always flying high, young punk age 21, 3 kids and an X wife, so many rough calls and life ending events. The life of a Chicano , self infliction, a night walking a created struggle for a decade of my life. I’m old school, dealt with bad cards, learning to grow up on your own, all alone growing up in the hood life. My homie where my brother and the streets , brown pride were my life. One by one the fall, the steers change, death and gangster life, feels like a short story. Was lucky to make it out the hood, that changed gave me a small glimmer of life.

Late in the game, no direction or future, trying to live raise my girls and that how I found the Army life. Lead to know I needed structure or one day I’d be dead. Did. 20 lost more life, found rock bottom, found a lose that will never heal, if the streets taught me one thing it was to never lay down, no matter the enemy always get up, beat down and heart with a never ending hole, strength, desire to carry on, a armor of resilience, and finally met the woman of my life, Today we live