Screaming/Punching: Clawing to the top (a note on self discovery)

Starting the hike, I put on my small backpack filled with water and snacks (plus a couple cigarettes but I’m won’t tell my mom that); worried that I’ll get cancer later, I tell her that I quit; SHH… #LIAR


Topping the Cerro feels unlike anything else; the lights of the city; Tijuana, Mexico is most beautiful at night; in my opinion; there’s two options.


We go slowly to start; it’s been a while since I have hiked this peak (if you could call it that—it’s small); still it leaves me out of breath (prob from the cigarettes); we did it—we are now at the top; looking down, the lights of the stadium welcome us in as the baseball game commences; 3-0 is the score after the inning closes out; lucky to watch it; we enjoy the heights; altitude; MOTHER FUCKING attitude, bitches; let’s do this!!

I look over at her and see her smile; even in the dark, she sparkles; I didn’t think that she would make it; we all, somehow, made it; every single, one, of, us; bitches.

Pictures are taken; we sit at the base of the cross covered in graffiti.


“Did you think that you could do it?”, I ask as we drive back to her place.

“Umm… I don’t know”, she musters.


Dropping her off at her front door, I thank her for a fun time joining the group; hope to see you again!


I’m off the clock now; I take a breath; Breath and Stay Calm is repeated in my head; my mantra; these days, those words are all I can think to say; working it, man; working it, man; and, so I continue.


When you can’t? Don’t tell yourself that, bitches.


Light enters the house at sunrise; it’s never dark, for long; if you can sleep, sleep; if you can go, go; still in the night, we wonder; speculation; running water; neighbors signal.


I like living here; home, at last.

Jamie Smith
therenegadeinc@gmail.com

It's all about the story, man.



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