It is completely understandable how early civilizations could have
worshiped the sun, and how some still do. I don't even believe that God
would be jealous or mind. The sun is glorious, enduring, and
always pointed at me. The sun entices me into believing that I am the reason it
rose from behind the ridges of rock. When I try and glance up at it, I
can't look too long, like it might see right through me. The sun lets me
feel the cold nights. Nights, that hold little stars to remind me of
the of the brilliance making its way back around. It stays behind the
mountains long enough to make me yearn. It never gives me anything
tangible except the day. Then again the life is revealed during the day.
There is a part of the Chicano culture that is ruthless. Even the slightest social struggle creates opportunity for deviance. My family wa...
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