Lupus is no Tambrin Walk, your probably wondering what that means. Growing up in Jamaica on top of a small hill they called SIPPLE ROCK, i had a lovely affair with a fruit called Tamarind. The story is, I loved it so much that I would crawl through the barbed wire fence when no one was looking and sit at the base of the tree and eat my heart's content but one day my little feet got caught in the wire and it cut me so deep and left me with a nice scar to remember her by. Needless to say we broke up that day because I don't remember liking Tamarind that much anymore.
