(Published originally in my book-Monster on the 7^th)

Before the realization of our own mortality came into play, before panicking was a daily routine, life just wasn’t taken as seriously as kids. Everything was peaches.

And upon the realization that we would one day die, you could either rebel in the streets or hide under your mother’s skirt, awaiting and fearing the inevitable casket close.

We, the Kingsbridge kids in New York City didn’t take to well to hiding.

Upon realizing that our death was always right around corner wedged somewhere between the greasy Chinese restaurant and the Dominican Bodega, we were set loose by the lack of one another’s inhibitions.

We kids understood what was preached to us, but we never listened anyhow.

And when we fucked up, we took our parental beatings with a smile; even the ones with the belts, fists, and wire hangers.

We broke all the rules, broke all the windows, bottles, all that was made of glass.

We showed no respect to authority and nosey neighbors until Grandma started yelling.

We told girls we liked them just for a quick kiss and then to watch their hearts break.

We fought each other over nothing, friends fighting friends over nothing!

Parents told us to stay away from cigarettes, but we never felt more alive inside that cancer cloud.

Parents told us to stay away from booze, but all insecurities vanished while inebriated.

We ran the streets like we paved them ourselves.

We littered the sidewalks and spray painted the walls.

We jumped the turnstile to the subway in the mornings and we ditched taxi cabs at night.

Some of us would leave the neighborhood while others would choose to stay.

Some of us kids would unexpectedly die young, while some of us kids would choose to die.

We were reckless jerks, punks, shameless thieves, loiterers, failed romantics, and rejects with just a touch of arrogance.

*The opinions and ideas expressed are solely those of the author, and may not reflect the opinions of The Bronx Brand*

Richard DeFino is from the Kingsbridge neighborhood of the Bronx. The Bronx showed him that the outcome of any situation can be beautiful, no matter how ugly it started off. Also, adaption to your surroundings is essential for survival and he was influenced by all of the survivors that he met over the years, whether they were family or friends, good or bad. We all survived. If he needed to ditch school because anxiety was crushing him, there were countless neighborhoods with plenty of friends to sit on a stoop and share a beer and a laugh with. The Bronx is far too big to get lost inside your head.

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