The Life Of A Pre-Rock Star
2002-05-04 02:42:54 (UTC)

May 4th "Welcome to the World and Your Family"

I suppose that you know my dream, so now you need to
know who I am. Well, I guess I'm gonna give you a brief
explanation of my past.

Well, I was born in Witchita, Kansas. Dec. 1st,
1982. My mother was 40 when she had me and my father was
56. So basically my whole exsistance is an anomoly.
(Something that wasn't supposed to happen.) In fact the
doctors told my mother that it was a very bad idea to give
birth to me. As usual my Mom had to be stubborn and well,
you get the picture. I'm here.

My childhood was always a bit fucked up. Every one of
my siblings except for my sister Kim was moved out and
married. I have 7 brothers and sisters all much older than
me. (Most are older than my friends' parents.) Anyways,
their names are Buk, Bob, Kim, Eddy, Elizbeth, John, and
Bub. Now, here's what's really messed up. Kim, Bob, and
Buk are all children of my mothers deceased husband, Don.
John, Liz, Eddy, and Bub, are all children from my fathers
previous marriage. Bub unfortunatly is now deceased, but
that's the breaks. Between this whole mess is me, the only
child between my mother and father. This leaves me being
the object of resentment and envy of my siblings. Mostly
because I'm the baby and because of their resentment of my
mother and fathers relationship. Especially Kim who moved
out when she was sixteen due to a fued between her and my
dad. So as you can imagine, she constantly throws that in
my face. Even if they don't admit to these things, I still
feel the reprecussions of it from their actions and words.

I've always been the dumbass of my family. That's my
supposed role. However, I tend to see myself as smarter
than most of them. Except for Kim. Kim is extremely
smart, unfortunatly she lacks the brainpower to realize
that I am far more intelligent than she see's me as. Oh

Anyways, that's my family life. The only people that
half ass care are my Mom and Dad, unfortunatly they don't
understand me at all. Oh well. This falls into the
teenage angst catagory I suppose.

I'm sick of writing. Adios.

-Scotty Psychotic