So once my mom told my sisters and i we are moving to a new state. I was born in Michigan. The details in between time now are a blur. More like nonexistent. I squeeze my brain, far back in life and colors are mostly what I see. We got to California. Somewhere in California. My mom's boyfriend, he was rich far as I knew. He drove him limo whenever he wanted. Like it was casual. His second car was a Lincoln I presume. The name "Lincoln" on the front of the car is why I'm going to ball park it and assume it was a Lincoln. I don't know shit about cars but I know a little about money. I know who have it and whose faking it on the path to making it. Me and my family never had it, neither love. I would love to go in order but it's hard to organize a memory. Aye yoo listen to that. To organize a memory. Isn't a memory the complete opposite of organization. My memory my thoughts all that I can remember have been hulk smashed together into one. It yall overlaps. Was this a dream or did it happen? Was I high or sleeping? Both? What's significant and what's boring. Maybe I'm tired. But I know for sure I'm loosing sight of why I began this memoir.
