My world is bright as well as dull. I get my personality from my humble mother and my seriousness from my distant father. I am the voice waiting to be heard. I come from two undocumented parents who neglect responsibilities and drink until their feelings become numb- as well as their bodies. I live in the city of Los Angeles, where some parts are colorful but some are broken. Broken souls and broken homes. Where the sun shines on the children, and when there is no hope, murals of la Virgencita are there to help. Candles of San Judas constantly being lit to help us get out of the mess we are in. Frijoles to accompany the huevito, y cuando no hay nada de comida te toca sal con tortilla.