The gentrification of it all.

How about I go to the housing commission for help because after all they they ones who sold me/us a house. They stick me in a room I'm waiting for someone to meet with. I look up to a picture on the wall of a my then home with a little boy on porch of a different race. Mitch the postman who lived next door for free while he grew weed in his front yard, his house was in the picture. Man, that was a moment. That was a hard one to swallow. No wonder my stomach hurts.