Well it began when I was young. We lived in an apartment and we would walk to go visit my grandmother daily seeing as how she lived in the same complex, if I didn't do something perfect I couldn't go. I would have to stay at home and clean or something. Some days my mother would tell me I could go and as we were walking out the door she would say I couldn't because of something I had already done.
As I got older I become less and less trusting of them and that has lead to my lack of trust to anyone.  Many people are like those teachers who give you a grade for bringing back a signed copy of their course syllabus, in that in the class you have an automatic A you just have to maintain it, people, most of the time, automatically trust you when they meet you you just have to maintain that trust. I am totally the opposite, never shared my true inner feelings with anyone and you MUST earn my trust and I have never told anyone something I wouldn't want my worst enemy to know. I blame my lack of trust for the reason I love technology, it holds the user accountable you can say anything you want and it is up to you who reads it, if it makes a mistake it is the user's fault. The world of technology is wonderful the world may read what you allow them or you can let it only be known to you. I would have never thought of doing what I can do now with computers. I am asked by many people for favors or networking help. I am actually scheduled to go up to a buddy's place to set up his wi-fi on Friday.
Technology is the only thing that keeps me sane. Without it I wouldn't be able to tell you this stuff, nor would I be able to communicate with friends. Sounds simple right? Wrong. Actually I never stayed over at a friends' house until last summer and I have never been hiking, skiing, snowboarding, or anything of the like. My parental units don't let me do this stuff often it could be the fact they know I think they only had kids to have slaves.

Most kids hate school I love it. I like the  fact i am out of the house for 6 hours and not being yelled at constantly.  It is a great escape the only bad part is summer break.No school. The problem with the lack of school I am in the same house with my parents working I barely get time to do anything.

Until next time
Pax tecum


(LOOK IT UP!)

I talk about many things on here but what do you want to know?

Basically If you have a question for me then ask using a comment, I will answer them as quickly as I can and as complete as I can.
Have fun with this ask anything you want

I talk a lot so here is a question for my readers...

Well, when you see an injured bird on the side of the road what would you do?
(Beware, your answer here actually tells a lot about your personality)

"her"

There has been some questions, mainly , "who's this "her" that you failed with?...and why did you fail?" to which I shall give you a few tidbits of information
The Dictionary.com definition:

her

 [hur; unstressed her, er]
–pronoun

1.

the objective case of she: We saw her this morning. Givethis book to her.

2.

the possessive case of she  (used as an attributiveadjective): Her coat is the one on the chair. I'm sorry abouther leaving. Compare hers.

3.

the dative case of she: I gave her the book.

4.

Informal . (used instead of the pronoun she  in the predicateafter the verb to be ): It's her. It isn't her.

My definition:
A female

Well It would be totally unprofessional for me to give out names on such a public domain. I do not want to infringe upon 'her' privacy so I will not say any names but if you ask properly I may give you a tad more detail, not too much obviously 'her' identity must remain unknown.

Well it is a not so hot week

To begin, I want to say thanks a lot, 'friend' you helped me prove to myself I would fail with her good job I applaud you you won.

On Tuesday I was called to the deans office thinking  "what the fuc* did i do this time?" I get there and I have to talk to my counselor and the dean about alleged drug use and suicidal posts on Facebook.  Neither of which are true. They end up calling my dad to come take me to get a drug test and a Psychological evaluation.  We go to get the evaluation. No one can see me for 45 minutes.  I had to get an appointment with my medical doctor to order the drug test which was at 1:45 with a 15 minute drive. We had to go do that then come back.  I finally get everything done and get home around 4 PM and I am not happy because the psych eval proved I wasn't suicidal nor depressed.  On Friday we got the drug test results I take meth-amphetamines, also known as Vyvanse an ADHD medication I have a prescription for. Guess I wasn't on drugs now was I.

I would tell you about last night but that was the only mildly happy part of my week that would ruin it if i bitc*ed about it.

Until next time,
Keep your feet on the ground and your ankles right above them.

I'm Back

So after a while away from my blog and a few changes in peoples mind sets I am back.  I am currently working on a play for a creative writing project in English.  It has to be a "coming of age" story.  Well it is, but at what cost?  The main character, Pierre, dies.  He commits suicide at age 14 while he is in 8th grade.  This play is based upon a true story.  In eighth grade I almost succeeded with suicide, but didn't, thankfully. I will keep you posted with pieces of the play but for now here is the Prologue:

[Enter Chorus]

Chorus:

It all began when he was just a lad,

Intellectual; play just a tad.

His parents very heavy smokers.

Made fun of by peers who think they are jokers.

He muddles through life trying to escape.

The farthest he ever got was just broken drapes.

One day, to no surprise, he succeeded. He left nothing but a life, conceded.

And this play, explaining oh so little.

Few tried, failing, to get in the middle.

All he ever wanted was a friend.

Just a friend, could have kept him from the end.

[Exit]

Junior High

Well these years were not much better.  They really sucked to be frank.  In sixth grade, I was choiced into a school that I should not have been going to because I was out of district.  I was still having the family problems I was having in Elementary.  I have always loved school, for one main reason: it gets me out of the house.  I am away from my parents and have six full hours of being away from my parents.  It was hard in sixth grade because my mother was always late picking me up.  I was unable to take the bus because of the fact I was out of district.  In seventh and eighth grade I went to yet another school although I was not choiced in I went to the school I was supposed to.  It was just as bad if not worse I spent most of my spare time in the library and slept through classes and in the one I slept in daily I passed the class with over 110% in the class.  School was easy for me as you can see. This brings me to high school so far the highlight of my life.

Elementary School Years

Well the years from my first day of Kindergarten until fifth grade were a little rough at home, but at school, I was always ahead of my class.  The teachers would always give me my homework at least a week in advance because I was always so far ahead of the general population of the students.  Now, the elementary school years were not all good. I did not have very many friends and I was a social outcast.  That was mainly because people found me as a nerd who actually does his homework instead of just waiting until the last minute to do it and hope that you can get it turned in when the teacher collected it.  I was highly praised by all the teachers and I almost skipped fifth grade, which I highly regret not taking that opportunity now.  My home life, ever since I can remember, has been shit.  I was at that point in my life abused mentally psychologically and even physically.  My grandmother out of her love for me was concerned about my well-being and called Child Protective Services to have them do an investigation of my parents.  Well they decided that it was not too terribly bad and that all the family needed was counseling.  What a joke that was.  They assigned a counselor, who was supposed to come to our house, stay, and talk with the family for about an hour, hour and a half or so.  The problem with that was he called in sick like most the time so instead of getting the help we were supposed to for about 15 weeks once a week, we got about 2 weeks, once a week. Therefore, the help my family needed dearly was lost. We never got it and have since been to at least 5 different counselors none of which have helped more than a little bit.  This will set you up for the Junior high school years yet to come. 

In the Beginning

My biological father, a man that deserves little respect (if any at all) was not married to my mother, but they still decided to have a child.  That child was obviously me.  Well I was due in mid February and was born via C-section on March 12.  I was ass first, my mother says that “I was showing my ass before I was born and I have been showing how big an ass I can be ever since,” but that is okay, I am not much of a fan of her either.  Back to the topic, my father, whom we will call Earl, was very abusive to my mother and I, while I was a little tike, he on one occasion picked my mother up and threw her into the floor headfirst.  Earl was too lazy to get a job, so my mother was then forced to work to support the family.  He would not load the dishwasher, clean anything, or even feed his child.  When my mother would come home I was always still in my pajamas and I was starving because, as he said, “He never told me he was hungry,” so most days I would not be fed until late in the afternoon, once my mother came home.  This went on until I was about 18 months old, and my mother was able to divorce him. He still had visitation rights.  He was not barred from his son in any way.  Yet Earl has never contacted me, or my mother, by letter or even phone we have had the same home phone number since then.  My mother met my stepfather, who I call “Dad”, when I was about two and married him when I was about 10.  He adopted me later on and that is where I stand now.