My movitation for this? Honestly, watching Brave New Voices. I've always loved spoken word. Always. I just suck at writing in iambic pentameter and all that. I'm much better at holding everything in for years and then one day going "Fuck it and fuck you. This is how I feel" No seriously, I'm doing this mostly because I've noticed I'm falling back into my stressed out, pissed all the time, highly irratble self. That shit is not cool. I'm not really happy. I mean I'm cool but having every little thing piss you off? Not cool.
See there's a whole lot of stuff I keep in and I know that's not healthy it's just easy. The way I see it..if I can get this stuff out then maybe it'll help. Maybe. I’m not absolutely positive it will work but as cliché as this is going to sound life really is short and it’s not really worth it if there are no risks involved.
With that being said, I must warn a few of you that may be reading this: there will be sections dedicated to a couple people I’m currently involved with or have been involved with in the past that will be of no interest to you. Names will be mentioned (all except one). Nobody knows who you people are so don't trip. I’ll warn you about that ahead of time as well.
There are 3 sections and the last part has about 6 sub-sections (don't get scared away now). They come one at a time and each one is just like a little history with a specific person and then the letter directly to that person.
So umm...yeah..
Paranoid.
My best friend say I’m bottled up, I need a fucking therapist But I can’t think of nobody I’d wanna to share this with. Why should I open up on somebody else’s carelessness? There goes the top niggas so here it is…
The "Incident”
I was a reserved kid when I was younger. Very reserved. I’m not sure what caused it originally but I know it lasted way longer than it should have. I mean I had friends and all that nonsense but I wasn’t as voicstrous as I am now about my opinions on things. I think I remember trying to break out of it at one point and then the incident happened.
The incident.
I can’t even really call it an incident because incidents (let me say that one more time. Incident. Okay) only happen once. This went on over a period of time. Now, before I say this let me say that it’ll be a big step for me because only 3 people know about this. Two of them were involved. One of them was me. Okay. A long time ago my mom used to send my sister and me next door so that her friend’s mother could watch us. Now this lady never really watched us. I remember the characters of As The World Turns and Oprah watching us more than she actually did. I actually remember her sleeping a lot too.
Word of advice. Never let anybody else’s old ass mom watch your kids. They never
really care as much as somebody that has an actual connection to you. No matter how nice they seem. So anyway two teenagers also lived in the house. The daughter of my mom’s friend (one who eventually ended up watching us later) and her brother. While the old lady was “watching” me I would sometimes get passed off or left with the brother. This is where the incident comes in. I’m not going to get into too many details but I will say that there was …how do I want to say this… basically he molested me and at the time I didn’t really know better. I didn’t know what was wrong or right about the situation really and I didn’t find out until much later. This made me hate him. I still hate him to this day. I never forgot. I don’t think I ever will. I actually cared about his sister. I can now say that I think I may have loved his sister for all she did for me. I looked up to her. I think I wanted to be like her for a little while. She actually caught her brother in the act once and from what remember she ousted him in front of his mother and my mother and they brushed it off. I think they actually didn’t believe her or something like that. Maybe she didn’t see what she think she saw. Maybe she was just angry at him. I mean I never said anything so it didn’t happen right? That’s bullshit. I’m actually getting angrier the more I think about it. I’m getting off track…
Anyway, she died in a car accident a while back. Years later I found out that he was in a really bad car accident and could have died. I remember immediately thinking, “That’s what he gets. …Fuck. He didn’t die?” I thought that because it meant the possibility of running into him was still there and I honestly don’t know how I’d react if I ever saw him again. I wouldn’t be able to be held accountable for my actions. I never understood how people who had traumatic things happen to them could be like, “Oh. I forgive him because he knew not what he did” or “I can’t blame him. I forgive him.” I say FUCK that forgiveness shit. I’m fucked up for possibly the rest of my life and you get to be at peace for yours because I forgave you? FUCK that shit. FUCK your life.
This wasn’t the only thing that I’ve held in forever that I think has slowly fucked up my way of thinking but I think maybe it had a hell of a lot to do with it. Maybe that’s why I get so angry so quickly. Maybe that’s why my sexuality is the way it is. I don’t know. I’m not sure. I can’t say.
You know why I think I don’t tell anybody I get close to this? I don’t want to scare dudes away with this information because a lot of the time girls who’ve had stuff like this happen to them are always crazy...or potentially crazy. I don’t want people sympathizing with me or feeling like they have to talk different around me or treat me any differently. My problems didn’t come out as crazy. Mine came out as anger. Pent up anger. Maybe that’s why I snap so quickly. Maybe that’s why I curse so much. Maybe. Maybe in some backwards way that made me want to be a boy, or at least act like one, for a good part of my childhood.
Coming Tomorrow… Part 2 | The Tomboy Phase
