Where I'M from

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Because she was drawn to the "southern humor" that I employed and she liked the way I treated her as well as her family, she always wanted to know where I was from.
If I said I was from Texas, the biggest state in the country, in a city just off the warm Gulf Coast beaches, where the military and the schools share the population, do you think then she might know where I was from?

Where I'm from, Texas stays on my mind whenever the humidity is bursting from my pores no matter how many windows are open, no matter how many fans create a false summer breeze.
Where I'm from, the natives are visited yearly by foreigners searching for a place to play, hoping for a time in the sun away from school and family, where fantasy can become reality and reality can be televised.

Where I'm from, my peers drive "phat" rides, wear "sick" clothes, and live behind the walls of classy culture. They run in packs of pride, circling the deprived like they need to control all avenues of trend.

Where I'm from, the weather blows in like a behemoth, driving the community into their homes, drowning out their sun, and drying up their merriment.
Where I'm from, the neighborhood children play together in backyards that are visited by an unfortunate individual that the authorities have to keep track of and eventually immure.
Where I'm from, the scent of aged wood, the clink of sculptured gems, and the voice of "Don't touch" echoes throughout the home enriched by the touch of motherly love.
Where I'm from, it's a fight for the remote every evening with my brother, it's a home cooked meal every night by mom, a choice of delicacies every morning from dad, and a round of play every day with my friends.
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