Nov 11, 2005 07:51
Sometimes you go through life and you feel as though you find, learn, get nothing out of it.
That just means you're not paying attention.
I know I've gotten wonderful things from Florida, from Venice.
I've gotten some interesting friends.
I've gotten some horrible friends.
I've been though hell.
And I've been through bliss.
But for 7 years in Florida I can't help but think about the time when, I was beaten, screamed at, put down, and thrown down. I just can't let it go. It clings to me like a leach, and it's sucking the energy from me. It's like everytime I walk through my house I see something that reminds me of him and what he did to my brother, sister and I.
It's hard when you know those memories are there.
My friends are like $10 whores. They come and go very quickly. And all of them leave a streak of pain knowing that once again I failed at keeping a connection. I managed to fuck up again.
Nobody knows what my life was before I can to high school, or even before 7th grade.
I've never really told.
Because everytime the subject comes up
I lose another friend.