brixton, 8:04 pm

he was standing at the back of the gym hall amongst his brothas, seemingly one of them
yet on his very own. he, in my eyes, exuded integrity; the kind of integrity
that grew out of fascinating stories of 'becoming' and 'being', the tale of his transitions.
i obviously admired him. he smiled at me- the way american boys do- then
he came closer

- why are you using this funny machine?
- 'cause i am funny, i guess.

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