Hey, Allen here...

“What it do homie? How ya been, crankin on ya studies ‘ready? I gotta hit em books to, n learn me some propa’ English, yadadamean?”

So … figured out where I’m from yet? Thinking Nor-cal? Bay Area? San Francisco? Yeah. I’m from the city of San Francisco… the actual city. (Not San Jose, or Oakland, or Hayward…) I lived in an outer “ghetto” area half of my life, and then moved to a more decent location across the city. In the end, or presently, I live in a four story house… awesome right? I don’t know how my parents did it, but I guess it is hard work and wise spending habits. It’s quite sad thinking about my parents living by themselves right now, since my sister and I are both attending college out of the city. Whenever my mom calls me or when I see her during winter and summer breaks, she would tell me it’s so quiet there without me. And now that my sister just left for college this last quarter, there’s barely any noise. When she says things like that, I ponder about the past and my life, growing up as a pretty normal kid. I remember getting electrocuted when I stuck a key into an outlet in the hallway wall when I was a few years old. I remember the pain, the burning sensation on my hand when I touched the bottom of an iron while it was still on. Then there was the time when I drew pictures on the hallway wall, and got in big trouble for that. I was really sorry because my mom was busy in the kitchen and I caused more problems for her. So I went to the bathroom and got toilet paper, wet them, then went to clean the wall. But as I was scraping the wall with the toilet paper, I made a bigger mess because the wall wasn’t flat-it was bumpy, so pieces of the tissue paper were coming off and getting stuck onto the wall. As you can guess, my mom yelled at me even more, and I felt tiny and helpless.

School was the same for me as it was for everyone else. I got into my first fight in either first, second, or third grade. Of course, it was with a friend. He said he could beat me up, and as a proud (and stupid kid) I said “Let’s go”. The fight was only about a minute long. I took off my backpack and I asked him “Ready”? He nodded and I did some kind of flying jump kick into his tummy and he fell down and started crying. I got my backpack and left. (The next day his mom approached me as I was walking into the school…) In fourth grade I transferred to a private-Catholic school. I did worse in there than I did in public school because it was more competitive and I didn’t know anything about religion. The class Religion killed it for me. I got D’s and C’s because I didn’t know what the bible was and I figured that the stories of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, were just other folktales. So I transferred out … (Fast Forward)… went to a public school for 7^th and 8^th grade. (First girlfriend in 7^th grade) Then went to a College Prep high school, ran away two times … watched many fights and kids jumping other kids … and now I’m here in Irvine, the safest city in the nation. I used to listen to a lot of Rap and R&B, but now soft rock is replacing Rap. So-cal is really turning me into a softy. I believe religion has a lot to do with politics… and I believe everyone’s view on God is different … even within Christianity; God is personal and means something different to everyone. So in a way, everyone should have different political views … I don’t know how I perceive things politically … I was never really into that stuff even though it does affect my life….. And Superpower: it’s between flying and telekinesis. Ok, I wrote too much, ciao for now.