If i let myself feel...All i feel is pain...
Why did Chester have to die? :C
My mom loves her manipulative, child-abusing father more than me and somehow I have to make peace with that. I don't have to accept it. I don't have to like it. But in order to maintain my sanity, I have to find it in me to let it go and live my life as best I can.
Tragedy follows me but i still have....Time...
When I was in elementary school there was this cubby that belonged to this kid, and it had an ant infestation. I was 8 or 9 and one of the other kids dared me to eat an ant. So I did. But I didn't just stop at one. I ate ant after ant while the class gathered around me, chanting my name. I ate half of that cubbyhole colony. I was a true hero that day.
So when I was a little kid I didn't even know that being gay was a thing. I just remember being 10 years old and having a crush on a boy in my class. I was home alone with my dad one day when I told him about the boy in my class and my feelings for him. My dad got angry and said that I was only allowed to have those types feelings toward girls, said that it was wrong and disgusting for a boy to feel that way towards another boy, said that it went against the laws of nature and that the heavens would punish me. I started crying and I said that I didn't think it was wrong and then he dragged me by the arm to my sister's room and opened her closet and told me to strip. I was confused and terrified but my dad had always been an aggressive disciplinarian so I did what he said. Then he dressed me in one of my sister's pink dresses with birds and clouds on it and made me look at myself in the mirror and asked me: ''is this who you are? are you a girl?'' And I shook my head and told him that I wasn't and started crying again. He said that if I'm not a girl I shouldn't act like one, boys like girls and girls like boys, end of discussion. After that, every time I was alone with him he would do the same thing. He would ask me if I still liked boys and when I said yes he would make me wear a dress and ask me if I was a girl until I was crying. That has to be the most humiliating thing I've ever been though. It really messed me up. But I'm an adult now. I've lost touch with my dad (which I don't mind) and I'm still gay and have a boyfriend who I love more than the world. But I also sometimes suffer from gender dysphoria because of what my dad did to me. I mean, I'm a guy and I don't want to be a girl, but the stuff my dad did to me still messes with my head sometimes.
Gotta luv Huge Jacked Man
When I was in elementary school, my mom would often try to drown me in the bathtub. She had started to physically abuse me ever since my dad left us when I was just a six-year-old boy. There was never a point in my life when she didn't harm me, so I was accustomed to it early on. It almost seemed normal to me, sometimes. Anyway, when she noticed she was leaving bruises on me, she would fill the bathtub with water and ice-cubes and then she'd carry me and hold me under the water. She said she thought the cold would heal my bruises faster. I remember kicking and wriggling around, desperate for air, and even in the few terrified seconds I managed to push my face above the surface, I was shaking so badly I could barely get half a lungful before I was forced down under again. I remember how at times I thought that it wasn't the water that would kill me, it was the cold. The water was so cold that it drained all the energy from my body and turned my muscled into painful blobs of uselessness. Then when my mother's cruel game of keeping me alive just enough to watch me suffer was over, she'd throw a towel at me and command me to clean the water that had splashed out of the bathtub. But my teachers inevitably saw my bruises and I was thrown into the system. That is my most horrific memory. What's yours?
If a nigga catch an attitude...RasenShuriken...