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My Corner of the Forest


Back to DarkRowan's Journal

Journal Jamboree
Oct 31st, 1979 1:03 pm - Pacific Time Journal
In the beggining...

<<I'm testing out the date feature here. If it works, this will show up as the day and time I was born: Halloween, 1979, 1:04pm, Bakersfield, CA>>

This is a great day for me. First I get slapped on my wet chilled ass, and then I turn blue because of a heart murmur (which, if you don't know, is when a heart valve doesn't work right and causes a back flow). Dammit, why can’t all my parts work right? And why am I so frugging heavy?? I want my mommy!!!!

The doctor told my mother that the only thing he delivered on Halloween was warlocks. By warlock he meant boys, but the name became kind of befitting in the end. Though I’d prefer the term witch to that ^_^.

Yep… I actually feel that I was born pagan. Hell, I’m born on a pagan holiday (Sam Hain… say ‘Sow-in’ to be correct. Thank you ^_^). The first part of my life was spent in somewhat of a belief void. I had none in higher powers. I did understand that I though differently. I understood that the ways of the world seemed to change the way I wanted it if I ‘whished’ it hard enough. Coincidence it was not: Too many times did I have flashes of pure intuition or just things going my way, which helped in many cases.

Namely my sanity when I lived in Anaheim Hills, CA. From here on, we shall just refer this as to Hell. Really, that’s what I still call it. I hate the place I lived. Moreover, I hated (and still, deep down, hate) those I grew up with. Because of my size, I was picked on (Really, really, really picked on). I have seen so much crap in my time; I have a rather hard shell. It’s difficult at times to take even a compliment, seeing as my natural defense, if you will, is to let is just slide off of me… like rain on glass. Most of it doesn’t stay on me for long. I have had to learn in recent years to take words like that to heart; else I piss off the person giving the donation.

Getting back to the subject: Hell was just that: Hell. Ever feel the sting after having a rock being thrown at your head. I have, numerous times. I hated going to school. The only people I ever made friends with were (in order of appearance in my life) Joey, Kevin, Brian, Tyler, Dee, and Danny. Also in order of appearance, for nicknames now: Rogue, Spider, Captain, Too Tall, Deez Nutz, and Bugeyes. (Lovely names, ne?) I personally had several nicknames: Sandman, S**tface, Knight, fatass, Jeffy (note the lack of ‘re’ there. I hated getting called Jeffrey. Very annoying even today) and others too numerous to mention (and very hard to read with all the *’s in the way ^_^). I had many unusual friends. Other acquaintances included Shorty and his sister, Alien. Really, I had a f***ed up time. Ever wonder why I am so weird?

My salvation came in the form of moving. Had I stayed in Hell, I would be a very different person today. If I lived this long (did I mention that I happen to know so much about poisons from all the times I researched how to kill myself?). I found a new home and new friends. This time, nicknames were out. Brian, Marc, Jamie and such. I had more friends there. And even more crushes.

Oh crushes, how do I love thee let me count the ways. I’ve had so many, I’ve lost track. Some of the more memorable ones have become friends I chat to every once in a while. But in the friend category only one has stayed with me: Me bud Brian. BIIIIIG Brian. BB was 6’1” 350lbs when I met him freshman year of high school. I have been though more misadventures with this guy that some friggin cartoon chara.

All of this while my mothers health had deteriorated. My first real memories of her were with her crutch. Arthritis had already set in. Then a back injury really messed things up. Now, since I was 15, she has been confined to a wheelchair. She pops more pills than a drug addict. My father has sunken into a raged depression over time because of this. He’s an old boy’s club type man: Women are supposed to be barefoot, pregnant, and cooking dinner before the husband gets home. He lives in the past, I live in the present.

Past that my 2 sisters cannot be more different. We 3 siblings are each 5 years apart, with Shawna taking the lead over Crystal, but only in age. Sha is a person who lives best when under supervision of family. She has been in more hole in the wall rats nest that a hooker. Her son, Ken, has taken to this and had a parole officer assigned to him at the tender age of 10. Black sheep, anyone? Crystal has faired better, though somewhat as bad in some cases. After 2 kids (Evan and Elliott) and now 3 failed marriages, she is now living at home with me. She has become hardened but not cruel and mean. That’s a good thing. She is a good friend to me. That’s a good thing too ^_^.

Now days I have come full circle with myself, accepting my past as it is, and looking towards the future. I work a mailroom job for a rather busy Sales and marketing firm. I just got a car a month ago, and am looking to move out of my home with my sister Crystal as a roommate. And I’m looking around to date again *shimmies eyebrows*.

Man… that’s a long first post. I’m tired. Anyone got a Long Island Ice Tea handy?


Updated September 17th, '03 7:14am  






 

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