King of the City

When I came back to my town, to the usual place I eat, I stepped in. Friday night, I assume that club hoppers get hungry too. Why else are they here? But it wasn't about whether they frequent the booty clubs or not. As I entered, they stared. It wasn't a stare of reverence or admiration. It was a stranger's stare, as if I didn't live here, even though I was raised here for the past 17 years of my life. Just because I left doesn't mean I was gone. Most people think being King of the City is a race to see who can stay the longest. But I'd rather not be the winner of a rat race. The truth is, in my case, the true royalty of the county had bigger things in mind. They took the first train/flight out. It was bigger than becoming the king of a dying city. I'm not saying you can't do big things in North Hollywood. But I had the chance to do bigger things in this world. If a city/friend/sister was dying, a true king would leave, come back, and help them out. Like I said, just because I left doesn't mean I'm gone. It doesn't mean I'm not coming back. So save the stranger's stare for someone else or maybe save it for the mirror because I'm doing this for us. Now, I'm not saying I'm the king of this city. However, when you see me doing something big, and someone asked who raised me, I'll tell them that it was Los Angeles, the Valley, North Hollywood that raised me. If you decided to stay and start staring me down, acting like I haven't done anything or don't even live here, please don't insult my home by telling anyone that North Hollywood raised you.