Austin

chronicles for the clinicly insane
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2003-02-05 01:37:20 (UTC)

My Name Is MUD

yes my name is mud. no seriously folks, im begining to
think that If it werent for bad luck Id have no luck at
all. I continuously get screwed over. I havent caught a
decent break in any area of my life in several months, and
im pretty sure that its been a year since I last got
layed. Lets start at the beginning and review. first of
all, My mom got in her accident and was in the hospital,
that continued for ten weeks. During which I missed
several days, and an asshole the likes of which you have
never seen suspends me from school for smoking. Now
normally that wouldnt bother me except this shit eating
fuck had to actually pass by people smoking to catch me
smoking and suspend me. Ive never even met this fuck in my
entire high school career but that day was aparently my
day. skip forward a few mutual months of dealing with
family trauma and turmoils. My mother gets a note saying
that the school has revoked my parking privlages for my
afformentioned absences and suspencion. Needless to say my
mother (now fully recovered) grounded me for a perioud of
time to be determined by her. Adding on to this steaming
pile of wreckage is the fact that, feeling that her trust
being compromised for some reason or another reads through
my personal online conversations and finds out of some of
my various chemical habbits. Then she takes from me one of
the things I cherish most. My room kicked ass, it was a
converted garage with one brick wall, I had a couch and
big ass garage doors. I loved that room especially because
I could play my guitar all I wanted. But now she says that
she cant trust me to be in the garage by myself because of
my now ceased (at least temporarily) use of the ganja. Now
I could usually deal with this ok except for mush-head. He
was recently caught when at one point he came home drunk,
stoned and with a nose full of xanax and you know what
happened to him. Absolutley Dick!!! He even is getting to
furbish the loft of his condo to his liking and is not in
the slightest bit of trouble. I on the other hand on the
verge of getting my car sold, am knee deep in shit creek
with no paddle in sight. Oh well, I guess thats just how
it is. Until the next thing I have to complain about

Truly yours in trust and through storm
Austin


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