Poetry, Ideas, Random Thoughts and Debates on ALL subjects imaginable…..

I haven’t been able to post in a while, though I prolly haven’t been missed. LOL But anyways, I haven’t had much time on the computer at all. Almost none, as a matter of fact. Even now, I’m not on the computer at home, I’m using my fiancée’s sister’s laptop. The reason that I haven’t had much computer time is simple, and yet very complicated. Simple, two words, and yet the meaning behind those two words, and the story to go with it, is unbelievably complicated.

Simple, two words: Brother, Mother.

Complicated: Long story. Here’s the semi-condensed version.

I have 3 brothers (one that I don’t actually claim) and a shit load of adopted siblings. My brothers are all younger than me, strike one. My brother, Meatball (LOL another long story) is my mother’s favorite, strike two. Meatball hates me, strike three, I’m out.

Meatball has hated me since almost birth. He has been my mom’s favorite since birth. I think part of the reason is I am a lot like her, only not the “good” parts. The “good” parts he got. At least she thinks so. That and I was a “keep a nigga baby”, and he was not. I shit you not, I was a “keep a nigga baby”. Maybe you know what that means, maybe you don’t. I’ll explain. A “keep a nigga baby” is when the woman gets pregnant to “fix” the relationship, or the man, or both. My case was both. My mom’s reasoning behind getting pregnant was this: “Maybe if I get pregnant, the baby will fix things. Maybe he’ll stop cheating on me, his wife, with every piece of pussy he can get his hands on. Maybe he’ll stop beating me bloody and putting me in the hospital. Maybe he’ll treat me right, instead of telling me to fuck his friend. Maybe he’ll actually come home.”

Well, it didn’t work. On the night before I was born, my biological father (who I also do not claim, he’s not my dad. My dad is the man who was actually there, who raised me), rolled over and went back to sleep when my mom told him she was in labor. Then, when they finally did go to the hospital late the next morning, my biological father “went to get Taco Bell” for my mom. He came back to her three days later. He was out fucking this bitch named Delores. He was not there for my birth, bcz his dick had other ideas, and he thought with his little head, not the one on his shoulders. I know that they say that the male body only has enough blood to work one head at a time, but COME ON NOW!! I mean, fucking really!!

What the fuck??

 Your first child is being born, the first girl in 47 generations on your side, and you choose to cheat on your wife?!?!?!?!?!?

Anyways, Meatball is my mom’s favorite, he always has been, and it is unlikely that it will change. She even admits that he is her favorite. She will believe anything he says, seriously, unless she knows for a fact that he is wrong, and even then it usually doesn’t matter, she still goes for it. If he tells her that the grass is blue and the sky is green, she’ll go for it. He is her “perfect” child, her little golden boy, her apple polisher. AS far as she is concerned, the sun shines out of his ass. And he kisses her ass like there is no tomorrow. I will not kiss her ass. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. I will not bow down, I will not be broken, I will not be anything but what I am. She hates that, and always has. She still cannot accept me for who I am, she still wants me to be different, she wants me to change, to be perfect in her eyes. I WILL NOT!!

I AM ME, DEAL WITH IT!!!!!!! LOVE

ME, HATE ME, GET OVER IT, I

DON’T CARE. IF YOU DON’T LIKE

ME, DON’T TALK TO ME. Plain and simple.

That is her philosophy as well as mine. Gee, I wonder where I got it from.

I am all of her misdeeds and failures come to being, looking her in the face, with a face almost identical to hers. I am all of her fuck ups, all of her problems, all of the bad things she has done or wants to do, all of the things about her that she hates. I am her, when she was my age, with a few exceptions. One: I am not a drug addict like she was, and I’m not into the” life”, the chaos, the stealing, the robbing, murder, the lying, the insanity. Two: I have three children. Three: My children were taken from me and adopted out, she gave me up to her mother.

Meatball told her this very morning “I’ll get a job when I damn well please.” If I told her that she’d try to fight me, and I’d have to beat her ass like I did the last time she tried. I don’t want to do that, and I’m trying my hardest not to have anything like that happen. But she keeps on it, bitching at me, nagging at me, telling me that I’m not good enough, yelling at me, hounding me, bothering me every chance she gets, giving me a “gibs” (a slap upside the back of the head). She is hounding me to “get a job” not caring that I already have one, plus two part time/spare time “jobs”, or that I need computer time to work. Yet she doesn’t hound him about getting a job, “Because he’s enrolled in school, he’s just waiting for the semester to start.” I am also enrolled in school, waiting for the semester to start, but the difference is, I know when my classes start, he doesn’t know when his start.

I am hardly ever on the computer bcz Meatball is always on it, on MySpace and StickCam. He’s just fucking around, being a douche bag, like always. And she doesn’t care. She told me today that every time she comes over, I’m on the computer, on MySpace, doing nothing. She’s not taking into account that whenever she sees me on the computer, I just barely got on (literally less that two minutes before), or I have been working and putting in applications for a 9 to 5 for hours. I have sent in more than 500 applications for 9 to 5 jobs in the past month, and I haven’t been on the computer much. That is a lot of work, just to look for work.

Bcz what I do isn’t good enough. I sell Computer Tech Support. And I do this, the blogging. And I sell for PartyLite. None of that is good enough for her. And I have to do what she wants, bcz I am staying at her house with my fiancée. If I don’t, I have to go, And I have nowhere to go.

I was recently homeless, bcz of my ex-husband. I’m just getting back on my feet, and she is “here to help”, but all this isn’t helping!! Bitching at me every chance she gets, hitting me, yelling at me, downgrading me, THAT’S NOT HELPING!!!!

Plus I’m supposed to be keeping track of her stuff, dealing with her shit with Dad, they broke up on the 9th of July, two days before my birthday; she had me, my fiancée, and one of our friends move ALL of her shit out of Dad’s. She has a whole house full of shit, and not furniture either, and I’m supposed to keep track of all of it and know where it all is. And she has called me many times to yell at me for HER LOSING HER STUFF. Like I’m SUPPOSED to know what she did with it, or what Meatball did with her ATM card that she let him use. I’ve never even touched it.

Mom and Dad have a cycle. They’ll be together for 3 or 4 months, living together at Dad’s, then they’ll break up, he’ll kick her out. Two weeks later they are back together. As always, it happened just like that. Now they are back together, getting Handfasted ( a Pagan wedding ceremony).

I can’t take much more of this. Her and her shit, my brother and his shit, being a dick all the time, people eating our (me and my fiancée) food, our stuff slowly disappearing or being fucked with or moved whenever we leave the house. I can’t do this for much longer. I’m stuck, I have nowhere to go. I can’t stay, but I can’t go either. I don’t know what to do.

Shit. Fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

 FUCK FUCK !!!!!!!

I’m stuck, and I HATE being fucking stuck!! I was stuck for almost 5 fucking years with my ex-husband, isolated, no friends, no family, no phone, no money, nowhere to go even if I had money, and no way to get anywhere if I did have money or somewhere to go.  Now I’m stuck again, nowhere to go, but unable to stay.  Not without flipping out on her, anywany.  Or my brother.  Or one of my adopted brothers.  Or my fiancée.  SOMEONE!  When I reach that point, I really don’t care who gets it.  And I can’t really stop it once it starts, not until its over.

This song really fits what I’m feeling right now.  “I’m So Sick” by Flyleaf.

As always, Thanks for listening.

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