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About San Jose

Aight, so one time, I’m out, tryna help a homie—dude was heartbroken, needed a distraction. We hit this sketch spot, neon lights buzzin, air thick with desperation. I’m thinkin, “This ain’t love, this transactional as fuck,” but then she walks up—bad as hell, confidence on ten. I’m like, “Oh, she’s a problem!” Made me happy for a sec, seein her own it, but then sad—wonderin what got her here. “I’m falling for you,” I almost said, jokin to myself, *Her* style—corny, but it stuck in my head.

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Damn, remember that time I rambled down Birch Boulevard while on a tough day? Felt like every step screamed, “Carlos, my precious!” And the city whispered back in slang and beats, “Stay strong, bro!” Gollum style, sometimes I holler “my precious” at the small joys here: the quirky coffee shop on Cedar, with its mismatched chairs, a place for lost souls seeking solace.

State dual titles to Southeast Polk, Algona and Don Bosco