User Profile

(For any of you that remember me, my origional user-name was Black_Dragon. But that's been purged and I don't feel like trying to get it back. although... I had quite a few poems in it... ah well, such is the cycle of life. So here I am again.)

Well, my life's story begins before I was born, when my biological father was 18 and my biological mother was 17. I say biological because they have never been a father or mother to me in any other way than genetic. One night Jason I (father) knocked up Amy (mother), and I was concieved. Of course, being at such a young age they didn't know what to do and they got married. Idiots. Well, Amy threatened to abort me if she wasn't allowed to marry Jason... That's motherly love. oh yea, let me tell you. The next nine months of my life were probably the happiest I've ever had while in a peaceful ignorant bliss of all around me. Why did they have to ruin it by birthing me? sometimes, I wish I was aborted.

I don't remember much of my childhood. In fact, there are nearly no memories of my "parents". My grandparents raised me, at least as best as they could. My grandmother loved me like her own child, and still does to this day. Though I must admit she kinda smothers me. One thing I do remember is that my mother would always scare me. Be it from around the corner, or behind doors. I can only guess that she took great pleasure in freaking me out. Thanks to her I am no longer surprised by anything, nor am I ticklish.

Amy is devoid of all motherly affection. She is straight and to the point, most of the time, demanding all respect she thinks she deserves. Other times, she is devastatingly sarcastic and cruel. Out of every person on this entire earth, she may be the only person I truly hate. She is a teacher in an elementary school, surprisingly enough. She tries to get me to argue with her whenever she has the chance, and then quotes Bible verses over how sinful I am. I know more about the Bible than her, and I seriously doubt she has ever cracked one open outside of a church. She was simply not met to be a mother.

Jason, whom I am named after, is a large man. But only in size. He is content to live under the will of my mother and be swayed by her not-so-subtle manipulation. I can't really say how I feel about him. He has a temper problem, and is constantly getting upset by my nonchalant and uncaring attitude toward the state of this "family". I think he could be a good person if he was away from Amy and with a better woman. I do not support divorces, and I think they are wrong and damaging, but in this instance, I would back it completely.

Together, it seems as though they are still on their honey-moon. They always dote on one another and indulge in romantic practices.

As for me... well. I'm artist in every aspect. Acting, singing, drawing. I hate painting... I just have so little talent in that area. I've had a few girlfriends, one for two years, til she got drunk and slept with her foster brother, who was probably sober. Well... I told her not to go to that party. I told her not to get drunk. And if she can't listen to me about something as simple as that, then how can I trust her if we were in a serious relationship? or even if we got married. Well. I do miss her.

I have a brother, little demon. He is truly a terror. Always getting on my nerves and purposely putting himself in my way. Of course, the minute I inflict even the smallest amount of pain on him he calls Amy, who is only too happy to listen to the little bastard's side of the story and get me in trouble.

So what do I have? well i've got 6 cats to console me... and my neighbor and his family is more than I could have ever asked for in an actual family. They treat me like family, and I treat them like family. More than once I have escaped from my house and gone over there for solace. I just see the way he acts around his kids and how he treats them. They respect him, and I myself respect him more than any other person I have ever known. In some ways, he's like a father to me.

Except now, I'm getting ready to leave. Any positive influence a father-figure might have had in my life is now wasted since this is my last semester in school. I've applied to several places, and I doubt I won't be accepted, with my SAT score of 1270. But... even if I'm not accepted I'll leave one way or another.

One way or another...

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