Playa Del Seville, defined by its rows of aging apartment complexes and tightly packed housing projects. The buildings stand tall and tired, their stucco walls sun-faded, tagged with graffiti in some corners and peeling paint in others. Narrow balconies sag under the weight of rusting railings, and laundry often hangs from makeshift clotheslines, fluttering against the backdrop of cracked concrete.
Young entrepreneurs raised in the ghettos on the meager money of their parents who worked their hands packing and distributing drugs now enjoy the money and seek to develop in the world they live in. It is true that the money from drugs is not exactly small, but for our entrepreneurs it is still there, and their old but continuous vision of continuing to make money can bring them to extremes, a little blood here, a little there, a gun thrown in the sewer, nothing new and unusual. The boys enjoy every dollar they make as much as they can, until they are spent, but still, it can keep coming.
ihatemexicans joined the community
Am I Becoming a Narcissist? / What the Fuck Is This on the Wall, Do They Call It a Tag?
G9d_sir joined the community
