Let's talk about my mother...

It's been awhile since I've made any posts on here, primarily due to laziness and simply not knowing just what to talk about. I've always shared different life stories randomly, but perhaps its time to shed some light about a few unspoken memories of my childhood.

My mother was a kid raising a kid. She was a stripper, cheated on my dad, and really made quite the negative name for herself in every scene, except the bar scenes. Where she would bring over different guys and I'd be kept awake with their moans. I remember screaming to the top of my lungs for her to "Stop", "Be Quiet", or my favorite "Shut The Fuck Up You Fucking Whore Of A Woman!" Which usually got her attention and got me hit by the belt. I didn't honestly care though... I was seconds away, every time, from just running away to relieve my ears from her noise rape. I was around 8 or 9 at this time, and felt so alone in this world. Had no friends, and before I would wake up my eyes from any sleep, I'd pray to god that when I woke them... I'd be somewhere else. Somewhere like my fathers.

The only friends I had were the other kids from my mothers friends list. Yes, there were more of them. These dick hungry girls used to live it up by going to clubs/ bars together. Collecting Child Support. Watching anime porn together. Gossiping about the newest military black man they have paying for all of their shit. It was disgusting to me, and frankly, If it wasn't for those other kids, who fell victim by simply being born out of these nasty vaginas, I would have been so much worse. I'm sure of it. I was filled with anger towards my mother, and honestly, always have.

She may remember the good times, good friends and good dick, but I remembered all of the horrible times, shitty taste in friends and the millions of dicks that came bombarding into my life.

Let's see... Easter, woke up next to my mother being body slammed in the same bed next to me. After school, her picking me up, taking me home, and then forgetting she picked me up. So goes back to my school, screaming and yelling for me, and gets brought back to the house in a police car, with my mother in the back screaming at me saying "Why did you do this Bryan?!?! Why?!?! Or the time she demanded I sleep with her, broke my door down, yanked my 49ers phone out of the wall jack, ending my conversation with my father mid-scream and pulled me back into her room, hitting me into submission, while her boyfriend watched. (Sorry for the run-on sentence.)

Yeah... To name a few... I hated my mother. Once Child Protective Services got involved, i was so infuriated with my mother, I took whatever substances I could find on her drug pan, and took them to school to show my counselor. I needed her out of my life, for good. I remember I was so fucking scared... Waiting till my mother would leave the house for one of her parties, and grabbed an amount of drugs that I hoped she wouldn't notice was gone. Putting it in my backpack, praying she wouldn't go through it... I miraculously made it into the bus, into school and stayed sitting outside my counselors room holding onto my backpack for dear life. Damn, I remember I was scared not knowing what would happen next....

Well.... Years have passed now, and my mother and I are still on no grounds of communications for a plethora of reasons....And all I can honestly say is?..... Thank The Cosmos! It's been an interesting life, thus far, and I have so much to accomplish with it. Thank You all for reading, and I hope I didn't bore you...