"I began to understand the realms between public and private, which are scattered, dispersed by urban sprawl, as incomplete sentences. A sentence communicates clear and concise opinions or ideas through the combination of words and phrases, which make paragraphs and so on. Architecture does the same where its words are elements such as doors and windows. These words are then harmoniously placed to communicate rhythmic and proportional spaces. In accordance with nature, these combinations create a context for an efficient and/or effective urban environment. Walking through suburbia, this concept is hard to understand because ideas are fragmented by slow observation, only as fast as you are walking. If you are in a vehicle, then, the context is easier to understand. People would have to travel for miles to achieve a coherent idea. Not only that, but the path is hazardous or the short cut is abruptly cut off by a cul de sac wrapped in a 10 foot high wall - where trees and a frame view of the hill use to be.

"Moments like this made me a writer. Writers like me replace nature were it once stood by anthropometric strokes and geometry of letters, connecting the paths which make epitomes urbanistically and strengthen our architectural and urbanist minds. So as I walk to the store I understand a healthy and safe travel path. Unfortunately most of these sentences laid before me did not communicate an efficient path. Rather, they say there are unsafe hazards along the street and buildings. I sometimes get confused because of the scatter words or misplaced context.

"In this case, urban sprawl taught me Ebonics."