eyedream_history_portrait eyedream I was born july 4 1986 and everything was happy my daddy hit my mommy and nothing was happy we ran away when I was 7 and everything was happy my bubbe had schizophrenia and nothing was happy so she went to the nursing home and everything was happy I had my first orgasm at eight years old and everything was happy I started asking my mommy too many questions the happiness decreased why why why this why why why that the bubble popped she wanted to kick me out when I was 13 but girls’ homes don’t take gifted students who like puns apparently anyway she talked to her shrink who told her I was great especially considering that I was a Child Of Abuse (mommy doesn’t know my daddy did things to me yet) everything was happy I was 15 and my mother wanted to kick me out again too many questions I asked and too many rules I found nonsensical fighting fighting fighting everywhere friends more interested in aptly named “boyz” than finding souls I tried to kill myself but I didn’t and I don’t want to go into any more details about that and soon enough I realized how stupid I had been and everything was happy my mommy started comparing me to my daddy at 16 oh lord she was angry angry angry and I started having nightmares and waking up screaming that he was back nothing was happy and now I am 17 and everything is happy sometimes you are and sometimes you aren’t just remember it’ll all be okay in the end if it’s not okay it’s not the end I am beautiful and strong I am eyedream I am a dreamer this is my history portrait tell me yours 030914 ... imposter My history. . . is not important. I am nothing special, really. Yet I am magnificent and resplendent. Born on the twenty-eighth day of the first month of the year 1985. I was three days early and 11 hours of labour. I am born in St. Jude’s Hospital in Fullerton, California. St. Jude is the patron saint of lost causes. Born the bastard son of Deborah, my father I have never met nor never seen. I live with my grandparents and my mother, along with her two brothers. My mother will not move out of her parents' house until she is 39 years old. I will be 14 when she leaves to live with my stepfather. She will never hold a job in my lifetime. I am a sickly child who is never able to go out and play. Only-lonely child. I read. And I read. My only friend is an adult, a man who takes my innocence away from me when I am too young to understand what I am losing. Looking back, I wonder if he wanted something else, too. He will be gone by the time I turn twelve. I get better – ironically, it was the tonsils. Had the organs removed, and my immune system never looked back. My family gets sicker. Sometime in 1991-92, my grandfather, mother, and both of my uncles are diagnosed with Miatonic Muscular Dystrophy. MD. Jerry's Kids. You've probably seen the stickers up in supermarkets and the telethons on PBS. It is a degenerative muscular disease for which there is no cure or way to slow its advances. It ravages all muscles – neck, jaw, fingers, stomach lining, heart, everything. Manual dexterity and physical coordination are slowly lost, as well as the ability to walk and lift. Within ten years my mother will be in a wheelchair and my uncle will be dead from heart failure. He will be 38 when he dies. The only ones who escape the ravages of the genetic disease are my grandmother (unassociated by blood), my aunt, and myself. As the disease is usually passed by the mother and the chances of my being healthy were less than 40%, I am declared a miracle baby. I will watch my family waste away in front of me day by day for the rest of my life. I see them die a little bit every day as I remain young, vital, strong, and healthy. I have never nor will I ever see my mother run. This kills me. I will helplessly watch them die every day. My family is Catholic. I do not believe in God. I have no friends. I will not hold someone's hand until I am 14, and I will not kiss a girl until then either. After that though, things will take off quite rapidly for me. I am declared an incredibly gifted student and put in special programs for all of my schooling. I skate through these advanced programs, but am not advanced to higher grades due to "poor social skills." A lack of challenge results in my underachieving. This is a habit and problem that will grow and consume me, to plague me with insecurities. I am needy and dependent while being fiercely independent. I wonder if this is a facade. I start acting – salvation. My mother moves out and marries my stepfather, a man that I despise. They have dated since I was 1. When I was a child they would have sex in front of me, all the time, regularly. While I was in the room. Awake. Watching TV. Or camping, in the sleeping bag next to mine. This is not walking in on your parents, it is this man whipping out her bare breast to nuzzle and suckle it in front of me, and fucking her in the same room as me when he thinks I am asleep. This does not stop until I confront my mother about it at age 12. He abuses her emotionally and mentally, but not physically. Sometimes I wonder if this is worse. My mother experiences chronically low self-esteem – a trait played out repeatedly in the women I find myself attracted to. She also suffers from dyslexia and narcolepsy. By the time I am twelve, I will be intellectually smarter than my mother. She moves out when I am fourteen, and I do not go with her – she is too poor and I hate my stepfather. I will continue to see her regularly. She has no depth and cannot carry a conversation with any meaning. I draw closer to my grandmother. I will live at home, alone with my grandparents. I enter high school with a bright horizon. I enroll in all honors classes and for some reason, explode socially. I blossom and thrive in this new environment, and I become a social butterfly man-around-the-town. I become emotionally dependent on a person that uses and controls me, eventually discarding me. She will unfortunately play a large part in my life to come. I enter a stage of intense depression. I begin drinking. I date and "hook up" irrelevantly and shallowly with different girls every week. I want to die. I would kill myself if I had the courage, but I think suicide is too selfish. I am prideful and intensely arrogant, and I alienate myself from my new friends. I hate that I am needy. I hate myself. I go into therapy. After nine months of therapy I reinvent myself and am better. I am happy. I love myself. I completely discard the life I was living, the friends that I had, and my old modes of thought. I stop drinking, and I no longer want to die. I strive for humility and will continue to battle my intense pride. I take control of my own life and no longer am dependent. I get new, better friends that are wonderful, beautiful dreamers just like myself. I am the success story. I want to help people. I want to love everyone. I want to save everyone and help everyone’s pain. I am still needy. My uncle dies on February 28, 2001. He was the father I never had. It is the worst night of my life. I still do not believe in God. I become an ardent and angry atheist. I apply to college and am accepted into the University of California, San Diego with a full scholarship. When I am 17, I lose my virginity to the girl I let control my life before, and we continue to have sex. I will regret this for a very, very long time. I do not love her when we have sex and I ruin something beautiful for myself. My thoughts on sex are warped from childhood by the man that was my friend and by my stepfather. I slowly, painfully become healthy in this part of my life and rid myself of the baggage. This takes time. I begin slipping into old modes of pride and shallowness. When I am 18, I fall in love. This girl – and our love – saves me. I graduate with honours from Fullerton Union High School. Class of 2003. I go away to Europe and reinvent myself yet again. There, I will decide to not attend UCSD in the fall, and walk away from it all. I will realize that the most important things to me in life are family, friends, and home. Safety and security and, most importantly, love. I will realize that this girl that I am in love with is the person that I want to spend my life with, and that I love her and her alone. I will reprioritize my life. I will become a Christian, led there by the one I love. She saves me again, through Christ. I realize that this Jesus that I fought for so long, so spitefully, all of my life, is really all about love. I will puzzle and ponder why I fought this truest love for so long. I come home to find that I have lost the one I love, and I am devastated. I do not know where to go. It will become one of the darkest times in my life. I become closer to God. I start writing again. I reconnect with the one I love, and things slowly start to get better. We start over, a new beginning. We love each other, and I am given hope for a brighter tomorrow with her by my side. I still believe she is the one. She does not love herself and hurts herself. She has done this for a long time. I will finally realize that I cannot save her, and all that I can do is love her. I begin again. I love. So that, in short, is my history, dear eyedream. Not special, not that interesting either. I have been hurt. I have gotten better. I fall repeatedly, and I repeatedly I get back up again. My history is a history of continually reinventing myself and getting better – always getting better. My own story is one that gives me hope, gives me faith in the knowledge that things really do always get better and that everything works out in the end, that everything will be ok. The summation of myself now: I am 18. It is September 14th at six minutes till midnight Pacific Standard Time, and I have work at 6:30 tomorrow morning at Jamba Juice. I am listening to Konstantine by Something Corporate. I am still needy, and I still struggle with pride and depression, but I don’t let these things control me anymore. I am in control. I am happy with God and Christ is with me, and I am glad I finally know that now. I wear my heart on my sleeve (and I gave her my shirt). I hurt. I hurt others. I love. I am in love. I am human. And, as you said so well and so long ago. . . I am me. 030915 ... imposter minor corrections: My uncle died in 2002, not 2001. And reading this over makes it seem like I hate my mother. I do not. I love my mother with everything, she is wonderful and beautiful. 030915 ... bandersnatch born in San Antonio tx august 21, 19984. my dad leaves before i can remember anything, but we keep loosly in touch seeing eachother 3 or so times a year. when i am 6 i go to boone elementry where i mostly play by myself. i am shy, and violent. i go to "transitional first" next year because of my age and lack of social skills. my violent tendancies and rebions increase. i dont do any work or talk to anyone, and i suposedly throw chairs around. in second grade it increases more, and i get in fights at school, but i am more outgoing and accually speak up in class. my teacher has me read out of her book and decides that i am gifted, so has me put in gt (gifted and talented program) at school. that summer we move out to live with my moms boyfriend and his son. he yells at mom, and his son hits me. before school starts we move in to grandmas house and wait for the renters to leave ours so we can move back in. the boyfriend calls alot and after each call my mom cries. at school the next year i raise my hand for all the questions, get them all right, dont do any work, try to impress the teacher, and get in more fights. i get put on ridalin and to go therapy. in fithgrade i am being made fun of by this kid, so i chase him around during PE and get him up against the wall, and choke him almost to the point of passing out. it takes 2 teachers to pry me off of him. i run away from school during the TAAS (a manditory statewide test) because i dont want to do the writing part. the ridalin doseage is pumped up, and makes me highly depressed. when i cry my mom doesnt know what to do, so she gives me more ridalin. i discover masturbation. 6th grade is rough. i trudge through it all by myself with little friends. in 7th grade the ridalin stops. i develope (descover i alwase had?) a stutter. the depression stops. i meet most of the freinds i have to this day. that summer me and therisa talk on the phone for about 14 hours a day. in 8th grade i get in my last fight. i get extreamly mellow, and calm, and stoic. in highschool i learn for myself what people have been telling me my whole life: i am smarter than the average bear, and more creative too. too shy to meet new people, i develope one friend in the first month of school, and dont meet anyone new. the summer between freshman and sophmore my uncle tells me something i will never forget, bringing me so close to him that i start to push him away (as i do with most close people), and making me ashaimed to admit that it was the most touching think anyone ever said to me. he told me that when my aunt told him about my moms boyfriend, my aunt had to phyiclly hold him back from getting his gun and shooting him. i discover an intrest in psychologly, but am to shy to tell anyone, espesially my family, because my brother is majoring in it, and i feel that it will look like im just copying him(i used to do that alot and now i am paraniod about it). i get in a car wreck driving a friend to my house on my 18th birrthday. i am to nervious to drive for almost a year until i go to collage. i am me. 030915 ... endless desire i am born on Feb 19, 1988. i am blue because i refused to enter this world for 22 hours. but i am lucky to be alive since they feared i would not have a heart beat. we are anything but rich but i suppose we are doing the best we can. . . the first five years of my life are simple and some of the most beautiful i have experienced. my brother, fred, was born in oct 2, 1989. my life is very organized, between room time and nap time and lunch time and play time and learning time. everything has a time. i am trained for the first years of my life to strive for perfection. this desire will be carved into my soul. my sister is born on march 9, 1993. i have a lot of friends. i will always have a lot of friends because of my personality. i am a lot like my father. i love my papa. my papa leaves. he just leaves. october 3, 1993. he just leaves. and i want him to come back. more than anything i do. my perfect world is smashed to pieces and swept aside with all the world's crap. and no one cares. i am a little girl who doesn't know what to do with her life. i've grown up in a christian family. i let God be my father. i let him comfort me. this helps heal scars. a lot of things happen. i go to schools that i don't like where i get in trouble for talking too much or creating potions with my glue and lotion. i have my first little boyfriend. nick. he names our children. my mom meets nino. my papa meets christy. marriages and siblings. we come together at such a young age though, that my two new brothers are truly my two new brothers. i love them with everything i have. i want to jump up at the wedding though and tell them to stop. this is all too final. but i have self control. i really do. i always think it's funny to think i had a crush on my brother, raul, before he was my brother. we move. i don't mind. i never stay at the same school anyways. i finally settle. and do so beautifully. i am one of the smartest (GATE woot) and tallest in my grade. those two combined give me a lot of friends. i'm imaginative and i make up stories and tell them to all the kids my age. i have wonderful friends who care about me. i love sports--baseball and soccer and basketball. but i form a lot of conclusions in my head. my other siblings don't do as well in school as i do. my parents give them lots of help. lots of attention and love. they read to my parents. i always wanted to read to my parents but they never have time. i try to do better and better in school but they never pay attention. there are 5 of us now. no one ever pays attention. my sister is only 2, she is no use to me. i connect with my 3 brothers. but i feel left out. they are all boys and i don't fit in. my mind takes this and tells me i'm not good enough. i become a tom boy. i cut my beautifully long hair as short as my ears. i think that the more i eat and weigh, the older i am. i always acted older. i wanted to be treated older. i wanted to grow up. i look in the mirror one day. 8 years old. and i hate what i see. i see this fat girl who isn't good enough. i join the swim team. i lose weight. i don't feel so bad. i don't look so bad. my papa says i look better. i'm his perfect daughter. the one he brags about. i want to fit his perfect image. i'm never good enough. lets not eat so much. lets not eat so much. i'm only 10 years old and i start lying to my mom. i put dirty dishes in the sink. i don't eat breakfeast or lunch. i lose a little weight. but i'm so insecure. no one knows. i would never let anyone know. i get A's and have tons of good friends. we play on the monkey bars and start the double dutch team. i remember chantel. she told me that if my butt wasn't so big i could be the prettiest girl in school after erica andrews, of course. it's comments like that that push you over the edge. i hate being the good girl. i slowly begin to change. but just slowly. juniorhigh and my first B's. silly boyfriends and relationships. boys cheat, hearts broken. there is more competition in junior high. all of the sudden, popularity became an issue. i couldn't sit out on the fields and make necklaces and sing to myself. i had to be with people and circles and boys and wear certain clothes. i act so sure of myself. so very sure. and i smile. i'm the girl who is always smiling. always happy to see everyone. but i'm dying inside. i start throwing up. i start doing everything to lose weight. i'd lose 10 pounds. gain a few back. lose a few more. it helps that i'm growing. so i throw up. in trashcans and in bowls and in toilets and in everything. but i don't think it affects me. it's just something i do. like anything else. i try to stop because i have no energy. i'll stop for a while. and start again. by 8th grade, i don't care so much what everyone thinks. i meet one of my brother's older friends. he is very nice to me. i'd rather talk to him than anyone i know anyways. and then highschool. glorious highschool where everything seems so much better. i get first kisses and wonderful things like that. i go to a school where i know no one. i like things like that. hopping into a situation, making new friends. and i'm so happy, but all the while, i'm throwing up. making my fingers raw. ruining my innocence. but i'm happy. i'm everything i wanted in junior high. i'm not constantly trying to be popular because i'm very comfortable with my social status. i'm so involved in school. i meet everyone i can. i tell my parents about throwing up, finally. because raul makes me. they try and put me in therapy and i leave. i finally realize what it all meant to me. . .when i have to let go. i can't let go. it becomes who i am and what i want. everything i want. i'm so happy yet so miserable at the same time. i go to church. it's my safe place and i love it there. i have a lot of friends. i become increasing more close with my brother's friend. we talk and he helps me through some of my issues. he wants to save me. . .but we learn he can't. and then i fall in love. secrets and sneaking and excitement. my mind is opened to a whole new world. i'm no longer an innocent little girl. . . but a growing one. who is forming herself and her ideas. who doesn't want to be forced into her yellow house. who wants to be set free. just a little highschool girl dating an older boy. and now i am happy. i don't really know what happened from then to now. i know that i don't throw up so much anymore. . .only when i have to. i don't eat so much anymore. i've only lost 13 lbs. though it seems like this has been going on for a while. the numbers never make me happy but they mean everything. i don't mind being hungry but it makes me stop caring about life. and now my happy life is not so happy. and i don't know where love has gone. and i don't know where i have gone. i just need a reason to get up in the morning. i need something to break through my cloudy mind and find some reason for living. but i'm still me. loud and melodramatic. funny and smart. opinionated and stubborn. creative and dreaming. critical and irritable. tired and dragging. smiling and sad. i am me. 030920 ... Souless Wanderer I was born October 25th, 1985. Two years later, almost exactly, my parents divorce. Dad leaves. Mom meets her new boyfriend, who becomes her husband. We move around alot. We get to the house beside the bar, where there's fights underneath my bedroom window all night long. Blair is born eventually, on April, 30th, 1990. WE move around somemore, to the orange house that has two bedrooms. I sleep in a hallway closet. We move again. Me and someother girls start doing things to each other. At their houses, my houses, garages, parks. There were 5 of us. Lesbian orgies at age eight. My mom catches us one day, and tells me to kiss a pillow instead. Like thats the same. I seek aproval from everyone i can, no matter what i have to do to get it. Mom's boyfriend tries to strangle her. We end up in the attic of the women's shelter. I eat grape halls, because i'm sick, and throw up all over the room. We go back to live with the abusive husband. He beats my mom again. He leaves again. Mom starts dating, all the time. I am 8. She leaves us alone overnight. I come home one day, during a visitation with my father, and she's making out with a guy on the couch in a barely-there dress. I leave again. Mom decides i can't see dad anymore, becuase his girlfriend spanked me. Once. Mom hits me all the time. I try to get into the car, and she pulls me out. I cry, but dad leaves. I already hate her. We move again, and again. New house.. and after a while, new friends. Me and my best friend fight everyother day. We shoplift, we smoke. We're 10. I move again,3 weeks after grade 7 starts. My new school is so small, i've always lived in the city before. More smoking, and stealing. I'm pretty sure the twins were sexually active with each other. I work at the tuck shop at school. I steal the money. I work in the office, I steal the money, just like at my old school. My first boyfriend. WE lasted about 2 days. He actually used the "friends" line when he dumped me. Got felt up, and felt up others. Once on the bus. Moved again, for grade 9. No friends for weeks. i followed around my older brother, sat in restricted hallways alone, and fought back tears. I'm a size 13. I'm also 13 years old. I start cutting. Eventually i make friends. Get drunk for the first time. Start reading literary porn. (ie, romance novels) Grade 10, I become a "christian" That lasts about a year. I quit, and also stop talking to my bestfriend. I move my seat in history so i don't have to see her. She sends me notes, i throw them away. Eventually we start talking again. I try the wiccan religion. It doesnt do anything for me. I give up on all religions. Grade 11 i have my own little group of friends. Grade 12 i start cutting all the time. I also start throwing up after i eat. It only lasts a while though. I also try not eating. .I'm a size 23. Grade 13 i slit my wrist. after a while it stops bleeding, so i cut it again. and again and again. I lose about 3 cups of blood (750ml) of blood in two days. Grade 12, i told two people about my cutting. Grade 13, my mom goes through my garbage, and finds some prose that i wrote, covered in blood. Partly written in blood. She tries to have me commited. They said i didn;t need it.... I lied to them. "Have you ever thought about suicide?" "no." All lies. "Do you want to die?" "no." again lies. I'm constantly watched. I'm moving out soon. # months earlier than planned. I've stopped cutting, but will probably start again someday. I always pretend to be something i'm not, something other people will approve of. I am everyone but me. I am me. 031205 ... june(fraudulent) It's very sad and I have learned to try and not be me. Being me gets me nowhere. I am trying to be somebody else, I might start church just to make myself appear to be portraying the role better. Something I should be for this society, when you don't fit you just get shit so fucking fake it that's what I've learned. It may not be right, but who is to judge whether it is or not? When I'm dead are people going to say, "Gee, she was really a great person and independent thinker." No! More like "She was an asshole, a real bitch and we're glad she's off the planet." That's what they'll say if I don't hurry up and do a better job of becoming FAKE. 040120 ... marked . 040121 ... :-) ok, wow, where do I start? earliest memory is having an indoor picnic for my 4th birthday. well, at least that's the earliest memory that has a date attached to it. the first few years of my life were pretty uneventful. I got vaguely picked on at school, but not horrendously. I was frequently called mad, so in middle school I started the MSC (Mad Scientists Club). we invented a time machine. (sorry, can't remember how it worked) and i invented a way to travel faster than light. I was told I had a lot of potential, which made me feel quite helpless, as no-one gave any clues what that meant, or whether it was a good or bad thing. Got OK grades at middle school, I wasn't the best, but was far from the worst. Left middle school a year before I was supposed to, because my rich Gran was appalled at the fact that I was bored at school, so decided to pay for me to go to a private school. Then she died that summer (~97??) so never got to see me go to the school. I still wasn't sure what life was all about, so didn't really see the significance of school and education. I wasted my time in the expensive posh school. But I still managed to get 5 Bs and 4 Cs at my GCSEs, not bad given that I was a year ahead. Started A Levels, tiny class sizes, 1 other person in French, no other people in Economics, 1 other person in English, and 2 other people in Business Studies. Yeah, 4 A Levels, plus General Studies, plus a school company. I left in Easter (nearly half way through the course) Just before that I'd met T (a foreign exchance student), who had a large influence on me - introduced me to Mr Manson and nightclubs, then promptly buggered off back to Utah. leaving me as the only weird kid in school. Got depressed for no particular reason.. family life was crap after I 'failed' at school, and even before, really, lots of arguments, etc, plus school really was a bad experience. my own fault - I had no motivation. Gran dying knocked me over quite badly, too - first death I'd experienced. Spent a few months 'being taught at home' which basically meant cooking and cleaning for my parents. I volunteered to do work helping improve the local environment, with BTCV (British Trust for Conservation Volunteers) which was really good fun, building dams, and bridges and fences, etc. Then I did some more voluntary work at MND (Motor Neurone Disease Association) general office bits, but again, great fun. I did a bit of part time work as a waiter, which is where I bought my first quarter ounce from. wow. suddenly, the world was so different! I finally had an escape. I also was part of the local theatre group, Masque, which was.. interesting. It was there that I met C, who liked the same music as me, and a few other people who were fairly cool, then one bored day, C and I started scratching ourselves with pen lids (drawing blood), which is when it all went a bit haywire. I never really talked to C about it after that, there were a few knowing glances at each others arms.. that whole episode continued for a while, then one day (really out of the blue) C phoned me and asked me if I wanted to go to the pub, so I did, he told me all about the other people who were going, R, M, J, and this girl he 'quite liked', L, although apparently she was a real attention seeker - pierced her eyebrow using a safety pin, and took it out in a science lesson, blood everywhere, I am told. :) So I got to the pub, met a really nice girl, an hour later she asked me out, I said, 'sure', then a few hours after that she asked me if I remembered what her name was. I only knew because she was wearing a necklace with an L on it. C was suprisingly cool about it, and soon after, found E, his (now long time) partner. Haven't spoken to him for years. Many drunken and blissful nights ensued, I was pretty much no longer depressed. My parents went to Italy on holiday, so L moved in and lived with me for a week, which was good fun.. wink wink. :) Then a little while after that, I spent more and more time with L, until I had actually moved out of home to live with L at her parents house. Which was really great fun. But, of course, all this fun has to come at a cost, which L paid after many tears. But we both took it quite well, really. It was the right decision. So, I was doing temp work, I think L was still at school, or applying for college.. Then I turned 18, and got £1000, from some bond or something, which me, L and our friend A mostly drank. by the end of summer it had all gone! still, we had fun with it. I think there was another £1000 from somewhere, too, but that probably dissappeared into cigarettes and alcohol as well. and beyond that, there's not much more to say. I got the job I'm in now about 3 years ago, L has hopped from college (where she got amazing grades) to a few jobs, and hopefully by this October, we'll have moved out of our flat, and be at University together far away from this horrid, empty town. 040121 ... < and you are you 040308 ... whitechocolatewalrus was that last on User24? 040309 ... magicforest I have no idea. 040310 ... Doar yes it was Mr. U24. 040310 ... magicforest Thank you. 040310 ... u24 it's mildly depressing that 6 months down the line, there's nothing to add to it. 040722 ... ... except that we have now moved out of the flat :( 040722 ... anne-girl i was born, there's a tether in mille neuf cent ochenta y ocho dans la mois de julio and i was the first child my parents had, and they loved eachother very much and my mom was young and pretty and they went to church and were overall very normal my dad worked at air canada, and my mom stayed home and cooked (!) and took care of us kids my brother was born several days before my birthday two years later and we were normal kids... ran around and fought over everything and had birthday parties every year and friends and stuff i had short hair, when i was a kid... when i was five i had friends who would come to my birthday party and we went to the pool and played i lived at the pool, would stay there for hours and hours and hours and hours and not leave until i had to go home and eat and my mom would cook dinner for us, she must have, but i don't remember us all eating at the supper table i got my first watch when i was eight... i got two more in the next six years, but lost the third a year ago and haven't replaced it yet and i got older, and had less friends... i'm ten at this stage, in elementary school, already the smart kid cause i know algebra and my math teacher thinks i'm a brat cause i won't do homework and read in class but still get 100%s on everything so he keeps me in at recess and makes me redo the homework and says i'm not working to potential i arrogantly wonder why he's using trial-and-error instead of algebra to solve the problems on the board, even though i know the answer and my parents get divorced and i have a 2-year-old sister who does not remember my parents being married six years later. i was sad once, but got over it and all through my childhood, this is important sort of, i read all the time... anne of green gables, star trek, and all that jazz i tried older books like david copperfield, but couldn't get through it i learned about sex through books... fantasy books tend to have a fair amount of it, and i'd read those parts over and over to figure out what was going on but mostly i just read a lot and i had my first crush on a boy when i was 10 years old, he was sixteen and cool and i got over it in a week or so. at the same time i accepted christ for myself at a christian camp after going to church for ten years i did the testimonial thing at campfire and everything, and genuinely believed it and i tried to deepen my faith every year until i was thirteen, went to that camp every summer the common complaint was when you're at camp it's cool and excellent and everyone's like "yo, jesus rocks!" and then you go home and it's harder so i graduated from elementary school and went to a private school for a year and was homeschooled for a year which was disastrous so my mom kicked me out of the house (not really seriously, i guess, she was just angry, but she locked the door behind me and i went to live with my dad for the next year) and during this time i got a haircut which i did not like and wore a hooded sweater with the hood up for the next year because of it, and because i was angry with my mom when she called to say she was proud that i'd passed my 436 exam (96%, natch), i cried, but didn't call her back and i went to a new school and made friends in gym class, and got into a couple advanced classes and this was when i was fourteen i had a really excellent physics teacher that year, i was kinda the "teacher's pet", he thought i was brilliant and then i turned fifteen and one day i went over to my mom's house because my brother was there and he said he'd lend me the new harry potter book, and i went home to her house and lay on the floor in my old room reading the entire harry potter series for a day and she said she'd missed me and i stayed there until now and beyond and i was gloriously happy i'd been crying a week before because i hated my dad at another christian camp, and i believed god answered my prayers and i was fifteen, and started grade ten and i met a boy who was an atheist, and intelligent, and we started talking cause he was my chem lab partner i had a crush on him, and we became friends, and after much thought and self-debate i was no longer a christian partially because of some things he'd said he was never in love with me, will not be so i graduated from highschool with his class and not mine, a year early, and i was somewhat proud of this, but it was necessary for my sanity and grade ten was better than grade nine i slept through a year of history class and got 90% in the course and thought this was unfair i was mostly nonlucid at this point so i got into cegep and i made new random friends and enjoyed my courses and this year was again better than the last and i'm hoping it's a trend that will continue so i'm sixteen, and almost seventeen, and happy with my life right now and if you read all of this, i'm impressed because i wrote a lot and it's probably not very interesting to anyone but me and if you didn't and just skipped to the end so that you're reading this, that's ok too, because i'd probably do the same thing 050713 ... akuma aoi born a pisces in a year of the rat (March, 1972) a brief flash of memory around age 2, some other kid falling on top of me and breaking my leg. Christmas in a cast that looked and felt rather like a pair of very itchy plastic over-alls. No real memories again until age 4, going to Texas for my grandfather's funeral, not really knowing or understanding what it was all about. Church every Sunday morning... at least until age 10, Mom kept going, but Dad usually was just getting back from work and by that point, i found myself preferring light housework to the the rigorous test of my patience known as the 9 o'clock Mass. Learned to read at age 3, was proficient enough in reading and basic math by kindergarten and was allowed to skip 1st grade. Being younger and (believe it or not) smaller than the rest of my classmates, i found myself picked on pretty relentlessly by about half of my class. older kids mistook my shyness for retardation until i started getting used by some of my teachers as a dog-and-pony show being sent round to read to the kindergarteners and first-graders. my friends were mostly the other misfit kids. the other nerdy, book-worm types, a couple of kids who - to absolutely no one's surprise later in life - turned out to be gay, and a trio of redneck savants from the trailer park section of the neighborhood. found myself taking junior-high classes in 3rd grade and being shuttled twice a week to a "gifted program" class at the main school in the district. Didn't really notice girls until 8th grade, maintained one unspoken crush on a cute ESL girl i had known since 4th grade. Felt my sense of religion seeping back into me and went to a catholic_school during my high-school years, explored the possibility of becoming a priest. Got re-introduced to a girl i hadn't seen since Kindergarten (even though our moms were friends and even though we lived just 2 blocks away from each other) and became good friends. My other grandfather died when i was 13, and this time i was old enough to understand just how badly that sucked Was picked on some more for being awkward and nerdy until sophomore year when a member of the JV football team kept pushing my buttons and i head-butted him into next week in the middle of biology class. I got a broken nose and he had a headache that lsted him for a week and left him benched for the last game of the season. discovered that, on top of a hard skull, there was az certain thrill in getting into fights. found out my dad was dying of cancer, chose my deepening affection for my best friend over my desire to be a priest. She rejected me, and i started down those first steps toward the time when i would be blurring_the_edges made some shady new friends in my senior year of HS, discovered the wonders of drugs and frequently anonymous random sex after a prolonged fight with cancer, my dad died 2 weeks after my 18th birthday went to college, got a job, had to work more than full time, and between my day job and my less legitimate work, dropped out of college to keep the bills paid and keep myself stocked with a nominal quanity of drugs worked as a debt collector, a bar bouncer, a bodyguard and general trouble-maker for hire During this time, my mom got sick and eventually died of her own long fight with cancer quit most of the drugs, left eh shady friends behind, focused on my job and on trying to enjoy what i could. let some friends move into my house with me, they screwed me over, i moved from job to job, i kicked them out. only half-way good thing that came out of that was who i met 9 years ago yesterday (even though she has now been out of my life for twice as long as she was ever in it) ended up homeless for about 3 months after a run of spectcularly bad luck and under-employment. spent that time either sleeping in secluded areas or crashing in the apartments of any of the few friends i had left at the time moved in with my sister for the summer, got one job, then got a slightly better job then another one and ended up where i am working now. gave up the anonymous sex looking to find something a little deeper and more solid (and boy, what a complete fucking mistake that turned out to be, and only now that my looks and my health are pretty well shot along with my opportunities to be a complete slut do i realize it) so here i am, older, maybe a little smarter (in spite of what some may have said) occasionally lonely, occasionally cranky and frequently bored. after all, anyway, my list of sins is extensive enough that i don't know what else i could do for an encore 050713 ... sab i used to be shorter 050714 what's it to you? who go blather from