i know, a new post already? yes. because i cant help but share it with the world. I'm going to skip through the many terrible experiences of 7th grade because those were just what got me depressed in the first place. 8th grade was a whole new story.
it was finally here. 8th grade. the last year of Jr. high. i was done with Jake and Chase, and Devon had moved to Cali with his dad. not only was he the only thing different, change was in the air. and so was my new found B.O. i was changing from annoying Sevie to slightly less annoying 8th grader. top of the food chain, and no more bullies. i had gotten big. and by big, i mean i went from 83 lbs to 126 lbs in one summer. in that space of time we had moved to another new house. it was a beautiful home. nice backyard with a pool. and i loved my new room. i changed my style completely. no more super skinnies, no more volcom, no more gay ass shoes. i upgraded to t-shirt brands like Obey, Vans, Diamond, and pants were very expensive now too. plus, my shoes consisted of Chuck Taylor's, Vans, Supras, all the really nice, top of the line, high class clothing that everyone wore. i felt comfortable at last. and people actually respected me. i was finally considered "cool." and I'd be damned if i lost that popularity. even if it meant hurting old friends and accomplices. and little did i know, i did. nothing major happened from the time school started till about 2 months in. i met a girl. a wonderful girl, with good values, good taste, and great boobs. they caught my eye like a fisher catches fish on a hook. 32D's, and i was as hormonal as ever. she was full of life. not the most popular, definitely not as popular as me, but she could work. we had 1 class together. art. my favorite class ever. our teacher, Mrs.Erickson, she literally let us do whatever the hell we wanted. after class one day, i asked the girl out. she said no at first and i was super bummed out. i started to walk away, when she turned me around, and she said, "just kidding, hell yes I'll go out with you!" and so it was done, and we were official. it had a nice ring to it too. Alicia and Cooper. Hmm, this could be fun.
about 2 weeks into this mistake of a relationship, i knew it. i was in love. but to me, making out, touching each other everywhere, and holding hands was love. because i had never experienced love before. it was really just strong feelings of affection. we had been hanging out now, a couple times at her house, a couple at mine. in total secret though. if either of our parents found out, we'd be dead. so we met up in secret. and as most relationships do, we wanted more than just kissing, we wanted to see things, and experience things. i wont go into detail, but we went over a $200 phone bill from mostly sexting. her dad, he now wanted me dead. i didn't blame him. it was risky business, but to see my girl naked, was totally worth it.
after the whole phone bill, her parents made us break up. i was totally fine with it, except, maybe i wasn't. i needed my daily dose of Alicia. i loved that girl, and her nude body! but we were done. and the school year ended, but not our secret and scandalous partnership.
during this, i was not only experimenting with girls, i was experimenting with a whole different kind of drug...real drugs. this is where my life went to absolute shit.
Towards the end of my 8th grade year, i met up with a girl named Mary, Mary Jane. now Mary, she knew how to give me a good time. weed was an all new and awesome experience, and tbh, i loved every second of it. it was exhilarating! i wanted more, and more, and more. and i got what i wanted. from time to time, i would pull all nighters and not come home until the next morning. my mom had no clue, but now she does. she knows everything, and i love my mother so much. but back in the stoner years, she had no idea how much i really loved her, and neither did i. it never seemed like it. more tomorrow. its getting late, ill finish my drug story when I'm not high off of sleep deprivation, if that's even possible :) ha ha goodnight everybody.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
In The Beginning...
okay, so I've always been told since the day i could talk, i was important, destined for great things. i beg to differ. well, not completely. i do live a good life, i mean, living two of them sometimes gets hard to keep after, but i like them both. i have to be as sneaky around "The Mormons" as possible. i get it, some people think that that is REALLY bad. i can understand where they are coming from, but i am different. i have always, been different. thinking back on my life, i can see why i live two lives. because no matter where i am, i have been surrounded by two extremely different groups of people. as mentioned before, we have "The Mormons" and new to this game, "The Popular Crowd." as one may assume, the Mormons have brought me much more good times than the Populars. but by good, i mean like, Jesus good. the Populars, they have brought me good times as in, drinking, parties, and what most parents and adults would call, bad stuff. and i love them both. its weird, seeing the very noticeable difference between the two. how easily you could pick out who's who, just by the way they dress, act, talk, and..well, feel. not in a physical sense, an almost spiritual sense. you know? i favor the Populars over the Mormons any day though. sorry, its true.
the reason i started this is to tell others of the absolute shit i have been through. this is a very dramatic story. it is sometimes funny, hilarious really. sometimes it will be depressing uplifting, or scary. very scary. but no matter the story you read here on this blog, it is all true. every last bit of it. from beginning to end. you may want to share it with others who need it, so do it. i encourage it, because living the life i have lived is nothing i ever want anyone else to experience. not the beginning at least. most definitely not the beginning my message for you right now, comes from the amazing Bob Marley. "Live the life you love, and love the life you live." so no matter what you do, smoke, drink, steal, anything, do what you do. but always remember, your the one messing your own life up. no one else. think about it that way
time to actually start from the beginning. it really all started in 7th grade. i was a complete loser. i wore super skinny pants, purple Nike basketball shoes, and i liked all that shitty mainstream music that was on the radio like 4 years ago. i hate mainstream music now. oh, and for a backpack, i had a satchel, just putting that out there. i hung out with really popular kids in Jr. high. Chase, Jake, and Devon (Dev-on, hes black.) Jake is actually one of my really good friends now. i don't know what drove me to chill with them, they were losers. i remember one time i had just gone shopping with my mom. i got what i had thought was the best outfit ever. they were the coolest pants in the world. along with a really sick shirt. it was a Volcom stone shirt and grey skinnies. with dc shoes. it wasn't really all that amazing, but in my 11 year old mind, i thought it was. i even remember my thinking process. it went something like "maybe if i dress really cool, everyone will finally notice me! Chase and Jake and them will stop being so mean to me at last!" i was quite the little hopeful back in those days. but now I've found reality. if i was asked to define reality for someone, i would tell them it was a hand, a cold, dead, unforgiving hand that grabbed you by the throat and never let you go until you realized the true shit-tasticness of life, and how every television show we have ever watched , every fantasy you've ever had about how your world would change just for you was fake. unreal, and not true, never to be either.
i woke up the next morning feeling ready to face the day with a smile and see my best friends in the whole entire universe. i had actually convinced myself that's how it would go down. but of coarse, it didn't. i got to school in my freshly purchased articles of clothing, and walked out of the bus onto the cool pavement. with a heart full of good intentions and innocence, i marched straight up to my "friends" and said with a smile that reached from the school to the edge of the galaxy, "aren't these new clothes awesome?! i just got them last night and my mom said they were awesome. what do you thi-" i was then cut off by Jake. "you look like, probably the biggest faggot Ive ever seen!" the laughter that followed this remark immediately afterwards, was the biggest slap in the face i have to say, i had ever felt, and to this day, i can hardly think of a time i can remember pain that intense. it was the most heartbreaking thing anyone had ever said to my little prepubescent face. i was crushed, they had said terrible things to me before, but i always expected it. it was my fault half the time, i would say Chase's shirt was cool, or Devon was funny, and they'd tell me to fuck off. but i knew it was a joke...that's the kind of mind-set i had for the first half of my life. if someone said something mean to me, it was a joke, so i would then proceed to laugh it off as such. "it really doesn't look that good?" i asked teary eyed. "No, i will not cry" i thought. "not here." they then laughed again and almost simultaneously blurted out a "yes!" and they walked away laughing harder then anyone id ever seen laugh before. i started to cry, i started to weep. not just tears of sorrow, but tears of stupidity. i felt sorry for myself, because i looked stupid. my shoes were purple and green, my shirt was red, and my pants were grey. i wasn't matching in any sense of the word. i felt beyond lame. so much in fact, that i left school. i ran home like kids in the movies when a bully hurts their feelings. come to think of it, my life so far could be a movie. a very real, a very disturbing, and a very saddening movie about how life really is.
i was sobbing so hard i almost could breathe. i walked in the front door if my house we had just moved into. there were still boxes scattered everywhere. i lied my backpack down on my floor. then made my way to my bed. i sat down, looked around, and burst into tears. i hadn't cried that much for so long, and i thought i was being a pussy for it. i was so retarded i couldn't even match my own clothes. i had no friends except for the ones that had just made me cry. but obviously they were kidding around, so why was i crying? i finally regained my composure after about thirty minutes of self pity, then changed my clothes to something simple that matched this time. i grabbed my stuff..then i looked in the mirror. my eyes were so red and swollen i can't even tell you. i started to cry a little more. then i walked out of the front door and back to my school. to the absolute shit hole i called a school. i actually loved this particular Jr. high, but i hated my experiences there. it would only continue more aggressively as the year went on.
the reason i started this is to tell others of the absolute shit i have been through. this is a very dramatic story. it is sometimes funny, hilarious really. sometimes it will be depressing uplifting, or scary. very scary. but no matter the story you read here on this blog, it is all true. every last bit of it. from beginning to end. you may want to share it with others who need it, so do it. i encourage it, because living the life i have lived is nothing i ever want anyone else to experience. not the beginning at least. most definitely not the beginning my message for you right now, comes from the amazing Bob Marley. "Live the life you love, and love the life you live." so no matter what you do, smoke, drink, steal, anything, do what you do. but always remember, your the one messing your own life up. no one else. think about it that way
time to actually start from the beginning. it really all started in 7th grade. i was a complete loser. i wore super skinny pants, purple Nike basketball shoes, and i liked all that shitty mainstream music that was on the radio like 4 years ago. i hate mainstream music now. oh, and for a backpack, i had a satchel, just putting that out there. i hung out with really popular kids in Jr. high. Chase, Jake, and Devon (Dev-on, hes black.) Jake is actually one of my really good friends now. i don't know what drove me to chill with them, they were losers. i remember one time i had just gone shopping with my mom. i got what i had thought was the best outfit ever. they were the coolest pants in the world. along with a really sick shirt. it was a Volcom stone shirt and grey skinnies. with dc shoes. it wasn't really all that amazing, but in my 11 year old mind, i thought it was. i even remember my thinking process. it went something like "maybe if i dress really cool, everyone will finally notice me! Chase and Jake and them will stop being so mean to me at last!" i was quite the little hopeful back in those days. but now I've found reality. if i was asked to define reality for someone, i would tell them it was a hand, a cold, dead, unforgiving hand that grabbed you by the throat and never let you go until you realized the true shit-tasticness of life, and how every television show we have ever watched , every fantasy you've ever had about how your world would change just for you was fake. unreal, and not true, never to be either.
i woke up the next morning feeling ready to face the day with a smile and see my best friends in the whole entire universe. i had actually convinced myself that's how it would go down. but of coarse, it didn't. i got to school in my freshly purchased articles of clothing, and walked out of the bus onto the cool pavement. with a heart full of good intentions and innocence, i marched straight up to my "friends" and said with a smile that reached from the school to the edge of the galaxy, "aren't these new clothes awesome?! i just got them last night and my mom said they were awesome. what do you thi-" i was then cut off by Jake. "you look like, probably the biggest faggot Ive ever seen!" the laughter that followed this remark immediately afterwards, was the biggest slap in the face i have to say, i had ever felt, and to this day, i can hardly think of a time i can remember pain that intense. it was the most heartbreaking thing anyone had ever said to my little prepubescent face. i was crushed, they had said terrible things to me before, but i always expected it. it was my fault half the time, i would say Chase's shirt was cool, or Devon was funny, and they'd tell me to fuck off. but i knew it was a joke...that's the kind of mind-set i had for the first half of my life. if someone said something mean to me, it was a joke, so i would then proceed to laugh it off as such. "it really doesn't look that good?" i asked teary eyed. "No, i will not cry" i thought. "not here." they then laughed again and almost simultaneously blurted out a "yes!" and they walked away laughing harder then anyone id ever seen laugh before. i started to cry, i started to weep. not just tears of sorrow, but tears of stupidity. i felt sorry for myself, because i looked stupid. my shoes were purple and green, my shirt was red, and my pants were grey. i wasn't matching in any sense of the word. i felt beyond lame. so much in fact, that i left school. i ran home like kids in the movies when a bully hurts their feelings. come to think of it, my life so far could be a movie. a very real, a very disturbing, and a very saddening movie about how life really is.
i was sobbing so hard i almost could breathe. i walked in the front door if my house we had just moved into. there were still boxes scattered everywhere. i lied my backpack down on my floor. then made my way to my bed. i sat down, looked around, and burst into tears. i hadn't cried that much for so long, and i thought i was being a pussy for it. i was so retarded i couldn't even match my own clothes. i had no friends except for the ones that had just made me cry. but obviously they were kidding around, so why was i crying? i finally regained my composure after about thirty minutes of self pity, then changed my clothes to something simple that matched this time. i grabbed my stuff..then i looked in the mirror. my eyes were so red and swollen i can't even tell you. i started to cry a little more. then i walked out of the front door and back to my school. to the absolute shit hole i called a school. i actually loved this particular Jr. high, but i hated my experiences there. it would only continue more aggressively as the year went on.
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