user since
Wed Mar 30 2005 at 04:40:55 (13.4 years ago )
last seen
Wed Mar 30 2005 at 05:44:49 (13.4 years ago )
level / experience
1 (Initiate)
mission drive within everything
what else is there to do
if you're in hell, just keep on going
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02/02/85 was the date of my birth, according to the western civillization calender. i don't remember much of my early years. they were spent watching every movie that came before my eyes. most were terrible, but a few managed to actually tell a good story. unlike what i am doing now. but i have to say, the tv show that i can recall being my favourite is peewee's playhouse. no wonder today at the age of 20, i still act like a child and the only music i'll listen to has to have screams in it for me to even consider it being good. so back as a child(chronologically not just mentally), i had only fun times with my brother and sister. playing our version of handball many nights in the basement or trash compactor with the pullout couch. at the age of 6, i believe it was, my parents were divorsed. this never really bothered me too much through out my life. i was never one of those damn kids you see on dr.phill wondering why mommy and daddy don't love each other. i got used to it fairly early. if i was bored at one parent's house, i went to the other. it forced me to meet a lot of people, but never stay long enough to get to know them. that's probably why now i only have one good friend. my best, cassie, i've only known since the last year of high school. we started hanging out when we discovered we were both ditching the same class to get high. so giggling our way to get muchies and hanging out making sure we had the fan on right next to the window, we managed to realize we had simillar views about the world around us. with our equal dispise for most chicks out there, we began to build each other's egos and start the unquenchable pit we call our music. to me, each piece of music i own makes me feel like i have one less. it must keep growing and growing. the amounts out there are infinate, and i want most of it. you can keep the pop, rap, and country shit for yourself.
i know i skipped a few years. my mother remarried when i was 9. her, her new husband and i moved out into the country. this is were the, well insanity we'll call it began. isolation does many things to the growing mind. it forces one to have only the voices inside their head be the only others to listen to. it's either that, or talk to the cat. daydreaming became the only thing i enjoyed doing. the downside is, the further education you get, the more they tell you to get out of your head and stick to being a robot. forgetting how to live inside my head, i wondered around like a lost puppy. then i discovered weed. ah the voices seemed to have come back and this time i didn't care if my teachers knew i wasn't even bothering to show up to class half an hour late just to stare blankly at the wall. the two years after barely managing to graduate from high school were what seemed like the best years anyone could ask for. no job lasting more than a couple of months, with nearly a year in between. i was free to be a typical stoner bum. but then as the high wore off, i noticed something was missing. actually many things were. friends, a driver's lisense, money, brain connections, and goddamn a hot dude. now all i'm trying to do is get these before i bite the big one. or at least have fun trying.