Reminder: On 12/29 I will have a new domain name. Please email me with your location (geographical) at CET1980@live.com if you want the new address.
Today I made donation to a local radio station for the sole purpose of requesting that they play either N.W.A. or the Wu-Tang Clan. I mean, yeah, I'm helping the kids but that wasn't the point. I texted my friend about this and he said "for someone living paycheck to paycheck, you are quite the philanthropist." My reply was "I may live paycheck to paycheck but at least I have one. I firmly believe in giving when I can. I was semi-homeless for six months."
That is something I forget about sometimes, and I don't even know if six months is correct. When I was 18 and 1/2 years old, one of my brothers attempted suicide when I was home. I don't know if my mom blamed me for it or was just pissed that I never asked after him when he was in an institution. Both of my brothers always thought I was cold and heartless because I never spoke about my father leaving and dying. I don't talk to my family about emotional shit usually. But for whatever reason, about a week after my high school graduation party, my mom kicked me out of the house. She literally said "my way or the highway". Her way included a straight jacket and insane asylum, which I probably could have used. But I took the highway.
I lived for a few months with my dear friend Carolina, babysitting her children and serving as a kind of personal assistant. She was a huge influence in my life and it is because of her that I say "sugar honey ice tea" instead of "shit" at times. She died a couple of years ago and while I miss her, I never forget her. After that, I lived with my then boyfriend. His family lived in a trailer and I climbed in and out of the window and pissed into bottles and cups for however long. Then we broke up and I slept where I could, usually the art studio where I worked, taking 'baths' utilizing a sink that only had cold water. I once had to sew myself a pair of underpants because I ran out of clean ones and couldn't afford to do laundry. My mom once made fun of me for the amount of underwear that I have and I didn't have the heart to tell her that I horde that shit because I had to do that.
I eventually applied and got into college. By the time my first real break came up, my mom let me come home.
So I give because I can. When I tell people the story of my semi homelessness, they say things like "I'm so sorry!" or "wow, you've had it rough". But I really haven't. I've been to nine different countries. I've been to both Alaska and Hawaii. I was born with a decent IQ and I have a job, car, and apartment. My life has been a cakewalk. So whilst my past does make me seem like a badass, I'm really not. I just cope well and have a lot of mother fucking luck.
I will always donate to good causes if I think I can get some gangsta rap out of it.
Today I made donation to a local radio station for the sole purpose of requesting that they play either N.W.A. or the Wu-Tang Clan. I mean, yeah, I'm helping the kids but that wasn't the point. I texted my friend about this and he said "for someone living paycheck to paycheck, you are quite the philanthropist." My reply was "I may live paycheck to paycheck but at least I have one. I firmly believe in giving when I can. I was semi-homeless for six months."
That is something I forget about sometimes, and I don't even know if six months is correct. When I was 18 and 1/2 years old, one of my brothers attempted suicide when I was home. I don't know if my mom blamed me for it or was just pissed that I never asked after him when he was in an institution. Both of my brothers always thought I was cold and heartless because I never spoke about my father leaving and dying. I don't talk to my family about emotional shit usually. But for whatever reason, about a week after my high school graduation party, my mom kicked me out of the house. She literally said "my way or the highway". Her way included a straight jacket and insane asylum, which I probably could have used. But I took the highway.
I lived for a few months with my dear friend Carolina, babysitting her children and serving as a kind of personal assistant. She was a huge influence in my life and it is because of her that I say "sugar honey ice tea" instead of "shit" at times. She died a couple of years ago and while I miss her, I never forget her. After that, I lived with my then boyfriend. His family lived in a trailer and I climbed in and out of the window and pissed into bottles and cups for however long. Then we broke up and I slept where I could, usually the art studio where I worked, taking 'baths' utilizing a sink that only had cold water. I once had to sew myself a pair of underpants because I ran out of clean ones and couldn't afford to do laundry. My mom once made fun of me for the amount of underwear that I have and I didn't have the heart to tell her that I horde that shit because I had to do that.
I eventually applied and got into college. By the time my first real break came up, my mom let me come home.
So I give because I can. When I tell people the story of my semi homelessness, they say things like "I'm so sorry!" or "wow, you've had it rough". But I really haven't. I've been to nine different countries. I've been to both Alaska and Hawaii. I was born with a decent IQ and I have a job, car, and apartment. My life has been a cakewalk. So whilst my past does make me seem like a badass, I'm really not. I just cope well and have a lot of mother fucking luck.
I will always donate to good causes if I think I can get some gangsta rap out of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment