t11baf

I'm still here, and you can't take that from me.

I think, because dA' s going downhill, I'll bid my adieu, but still creep in so often. That's it.

This doesn't qualify as a journal entry, but here we go!
Quick back-story: My character, Creed confronts his mother on why she doesn't love him. She's a junkie with a negligent attitude towards her son, and had never wanted a child in the way of her party girl lifestyle. Believed in "children are to be seen, not heard." and is an awful excuse for a human being as well as "mother".



  ...Tears burn in the corners of my eyes and it's bad I'm already blinded by them. I'm tired of it. Tired of begging for my mother's love when I've done nothing against her, everything was for her; I did things I shouldn't have done, I allowed things that I didn't want happen to me. What type of mother prostituted her own child for her next high and still got placed on a goddamn pedestal by him?  She didn't care if I had molding bread to eat, or a warm blanket to sleep underneath; it didn't matter to Crystal if I were shot in bed. What mattered to Crystal was the Patrón clouding her inhibitions and the next needle of heroin up her arm.
     Swallowing bile back, I stare into her amber orbs, the same as mine. Her brows knit together, and she glares as she drags out a puff on the cigar loosely dangling from her mouth when it sputters out. With a curse, she flicks it back to life using a Bic while her eyes cut me down to size. Heart racing in my chest and beating like a drum, my mouth goes dry with a sudden and horrible realization: I'm afraid. I fear the woman I call mother just because she provided a fertile ovum that brought me into the world. Crystal Michelle Beckett terrifies me the way a monster under the bed would a child...

The year 2016 has been literally hell. Thanks for reading my bullshit and come back next time, folks! Maybe, just maybe then I'll be rotting 6 feet under.

  Well, I'm here for as short PSA...

   I'm not on very often, but I came by to announce something: my birth mother has died. My rights and life were handed away to my nearly 20 year old father a long time ago because of my mother, and I hardly knew her, but that one action has a huge impact on me. It was a lifesaver, you see— my mother, Angel, ironically enough, had issues with addiction. She'd been in deep since she was young and started having children at fifteen with several different men and was so used to not having a partner at the time who cared enough for her or their child, so she smoked pot while pregnant. My dad was a first who wanted to save her, he never found out I was around until after she'd came back after a few night stands and happened to be five months along by then. She knew Dad wouldn't have approved her drug habits with me, so we're assuming she didn't for five months and the rest of then. I'm the youngest of six (seven, even?), born to her at 24, and she handled all but 2 (or 3) of us, and most of my older siblings came out with addiction problems because she relied on drugs while parenting; she fed my oldest brother pot at fucking four years old because she couldn't handle the hyperactivity of a toddler and other children at once, and most are in jail or prison because of their upbringing; one was so damaged in uterine, he has a mental delay and he's the closest to my age. I'll appreciate her, and thank god, thank god that she chose to not let me live the life the others took as her best shot with parenting becausem myself aside, only one of my siblings that faced addicton beat it so he wouldn't have to put his own through the same. He's the oldest, 28, and looks 43-47. I'm grateful for her for saving me from that. I have what my dad calls the Angel gene because I look most like her, but I ignore it, due to years and years of resenting the woman that birthed me for not wanting to be in my life too much because she was afraid of affecting Me. I'm going to be her saving grace, do what she wanted out of me. The best I could have. So I won't face an addiction that I can't beat no matter how desperately I want to. So I don't put my iwn children through the same thing trying to get by. I wint get wound up in an illegal drug cartel and accidentally overdose while injecting myself with crystal meth while waiting to be admitted, and I certainly won't let any of you, yes, you reading this be so affected by drugs and die at the young age of forty-three. Please, please, don't do drugs, guys. You're worth it. Every single one of you is worth it. My mother knows I was worth it, and that was what let her live up to her name. Please, don't be a statistic. 

Rest in Peace, mother...

I guess, I'll come on every once in a while and assure everyone I'm not dead.

things
~5-20-15, I graduated!🎓 and now they (the family) expect me to go further and damage my mental health even further than what it was 😉😂😉… wait, no really. What? They aren't joking? Et tute, Brute? 
~I've been gobbling my iPad with half assed fan fictions that vary from KND, BTAS, ThG and many more. If I finish them, I might turn into dust in the wind after uploading them via my mindnet upon my deathbed in maybe 2084 or so...
~I've been really into the Tales of Series, RF:ToD and Eternal Sonata.They're all quite lovely, but ToD is taking over. It's got an interesting crop system, and haggling is fun, but why can't I haggle when I purchase like with Van in AWL? That would be interesting, but drop purpose of difficulty in the game. I've got all I need from James, so money has been really easy and I'm in autumn of year one. Disappointed in the bachelor:bachelorette ratio of 10:4. But, I'm determined in Aden (Atticus) winning Odette (her affections for him have maxed); and Sonja (Elise) is after James or Atticus (he's half way done, and I know he gets 8 LP by default after the plot finishes. Otherwise, I'm quite charismatic, and it's a fun and cute game lacking a fan base.

well, that's life