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Friendship1980’s. . . [Nov. 29th, 2003|05:00 pm]
Me. .
I purity much didn’t have any friends growing up. I was in and out of so many foster homes. Well wait. There was my friend Jason. If it weren’t for him at this time in my life I would have lost my mind. Jason helped me to read and to see the other side of how a family should be. Before going into foster homes, I lived with my aunt Linda and uncle Dave also Randal and Tammy there kids. Jason’s house was next door to their trailer… Yes a trailer that was back up in the woods off of Harriman hwy. I met Jason on the school bus ride home. I can’t remember if he was riding the bus to school, other than form.

I would see Jason setting in front of me on the bus looking at comic books. I was so intrigued by him. Jason had this intelligent look about himself. Jason also had a sister that was a lot younger than him, maybe about three or four years.

I would try and set beside Jason and talk with him, but he was very shy and also he had a very bad speech problem. At the time I didn’t know that about him. I just thought he wasn’t talking to me because I was poor or gay. Only I didn’t know I was gay only poor. I was called fagot so much that I just played the part. I thought if I made them laugh that it was a sign that they liked me. Little did I know that I was playing the fool.

I will have to come back to this I’m out of time.
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Bro An Sis. . . [Jun. 24th, 2003|07:56 pm]
Me. .
[mood |cheerfulcheerful]

I'm not going to use big words or discuss the logistics of my feeling. I'm just going to tell my story with how it comes about in my mind.

I really hate them all.

I hate my brother Christopher Lee for getting all the love from my father and being the man that I will never be. I hate my sister Lorie Ann for being the girl that my mother always wanted and that I could never be. My hate for them runs so deep, more than words can tell but I will try and talk about why I hate them in this journal, I can feel my face the air around me get hot from thinking about my life, my past.

My bro is 25 years old, the last time I seen him was when he was 17 teen. I most say I dont care anuff to find him or to see how he has changed. My sister 22 years old, I tryed to get to know, she didnt have two word to say to me. She looked at me as if I had Aids an should run and hide my self for being gay. The little judgmental bitch, I'm sure by the trashy way she looked; As if she just got off work from a seedy strip joint with sweaty dollers sticking to her inner thighs, ("Some one call Jerry Springer!!!!") that she is avery bit the slut my mother was and is.

What if I tryed to see my father, would he open up and show a side of himself that I never seen. With arms open; "Welcome home son" Well if I'm dreaming lets add some dramatic music for effect: Dunt Dunt Dunt DAHHHHHHH "Oh son, I'm so glad your here. I have got something to tell you, I love you and I'm sorry for hating you, the pain I put you in as a child. I'm sorry." Pondering on this dream, makes me sick, but if my father ever came to me and said all that shit. I can almost taste what I would do to him, I would take a gun and shoot him in the face over and over again, I hear voices crying out; "No!!! Donny stop, stop Donny!!" I can almost feel the gun noise echo through my ears relaxing all the nerves in my body as I end his flawed, typical rednacked existence.

This wantedness, I'm going to end this entrie with positive feelings of joy, cuz this dream or conscious visions is the pinnacle of dreams an inner self wants, a turely great mental gem.
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First Day at School. . .. [Jun. 23rd, 2003|07:22 pm]
Me. .
I hate you all, I hate ever one. why was I put in this hell, I hate you all.

I was only a kid when hate came into my life. As far back as 2 years old. now at 28 I can still hear him calling me "Asshole". That was my fathers pet name for me, he would call out; "Asshole, get in here you little dick sucker!!"

My father would hit me with everthing an anything he could find. It didnt matter if I cryed. He would smile back at me as if that was his way of loving me. I was 5 years old when I first run away. I stayed out side until my mother came home at 11:30pm, I thought she would stop him from hitting me, I was wrong for thinking that. That next day was supposed to be my first day at school. I didnt get to go for all the cuts I had on my faces. I didnt start school until the next week.

I didnt talk much to any one. The first day of school I was shaking uncontrollably, I was confused. I was seeing kids my age that could talk perfectly like the kids on TV. I was not even there a hour, this boy name James Suttles came over to me and said "Hi, do you wont to play GI-Joe's?" I dont understand why I did it, I hit him as hard as I could in the face. He cryed so load. I run out of the room and out of the school to the store down the steet that my mother had stop at for gas on the way to school, well the guy in there know my mother so he called her at work. Later on I would find out that my mother and him was fucking.

So she came and took me back to school, all the kids was looking at me with fear, James mother was in the room, looking at me with the same hate my father hads in his eyes. I look back at her with the same look in my eyes. I could hear Miss Pees ask me "why did you hit him, did he do something to you?" I know its not funny, but I told her to; "Fuck off, ya no good cunt licker" James Mother's cover his ears with her hands and called me a evil child. My mother smacked me in the face. I didnt cry, I wanted to, but didnt want them to see me do it.

Mom took me to her mothers and dorp me off at the end of the road and told me to walk, that she had to get back to work. As she pulled off, I just set there at the end of my mom's mothers road and wished that someone would pick me up and take me away, I would do anything for them. Someone did come along. It was the mail men. He pulled up to the mailbox and said " Hi there, should you not be in school ya Eddies little boy arnt-ya?" I said I'm not anyones kid, he just looked at me then said; Okay if you say so, do ya wont a ride around with me then?" I didnt say anything I just walk over to him and he picked me up and set me in the back with all the mail. He told me he was going to stop some where and call my daddy and tell him I was with him, not to worry. I started to cry, " Dont call him, plez's dont call him!!" I put my arms around him and kissed him on the neck. He said "ok, dont cry, I wont call ya daddy."

I could feel his cock when he put me on his lap, it was hard. Unknowing why, I put my hand on it and moved it up and down, He didnt move, then he looked at me and smiled, I was with him all day. He would pull his cock out, its so odd, I know just what to do, as if this was why I was born. My first day of school became my first day of cock sucking.

The mailmen Tony took me home late, it was dark. He ask me not to tell anyone about what "I" did. I told him that I hope I would see him again, that maybe he could ask my mom if I could spand the night with him. He said he would ask them, he was one of my daddys friends from school.

After Tony had left, dad came into my room and put his hand over my face stoping me from getting air. I could feel my self above the bed, the next thing I could hear was my mother crying I was back on the bed bleeding from my nose. That night mom took me back over to her mothers and I stayed there a week. I didnt go to school, just set there watching TV with my drunk ma ma.
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One on one. . [Jun. 19th, 2003|08:15 pm]
Me. .
[mood |cheerfulcheerful]

I'm going to try and do this journal right. Its going to be all about me. . .
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