Right now I’m in a very, very, very bad mood. In fact, the details I shall bring forth will enlighten you to this, however this needs a backgrounder before I begin.

I’m not attention whoring nor do I want pity, I will be quite cross with anybody who even fucking DARES to post a awww huggles ur life sux but intarweb luv for you style post, my life is shit, I’m aware of that more than and quite frankly I’m so mentally/emotionally unstable not to be able to forget this shit, so there I forbid it.

Anyways, continuing on in my tale from the beginning to semi-present and then recent events…

My parents found eachother, had unprotected sex and go me, my mother was 19 my father was 21. They were young and it’s my fault their youth was ruined. They got married, this lasted until I was 6 months old, my father left and managed to be the most useless parent on earth, he offered my mum peanuts and called it “child maintinace”, then after a few months he just stopped paying.

My mother well she was just fucking class she’s done drugs from all the classes and she was an alcoholic too. Needless to say during my upbringing this was harder for me than her, why you may ask, well guess who she loved more? Easy answer this one and unless I come in a powder/rock/plant form then you’re answer is incorrect, she didn’t give a shit about me.

Quite frankly I’m not exactly sure how I got to the age of four, the stories both of them have told me about this time is more than likely false in an effort to use me to their own advantage.

By the time I was four (and could start remembering most of this) I had a step brother, of course the sun itself could be seen shining out of his ass. Christmas, Birthdays and generally everyday he was treated much better than myself, I didn’t even have the most basic of parenting from those two, they spent more time on him and quite frankly in hindsight this is a good thing as he’s left school, has no job and spends all day doing nothing, soon he’ll probably be queueing up for his goverment cheque.

During my childhood the only form of guidance (before I entered the school system, well, even after I entered school they were utterly useless too) was the television, I learned EVERYTHING from television and I’m severely fucked up because of it. I have no real communication skills, interacting with me can be like talking to a wall because all I was ever used to was being talked at by a two dimentional image.

This is just one of my faults, I also have no self worth, I value my life as most of you value a used tea bag, I feel as if I’m nothing that I’m lower than the shit that infests pond scum and this is because both my parents couldn’t be arsed to show “love”. I could have been playing in the middle of a motorway for all they cared just as long as I didn’t cost them a penny or get in their way.

One of the examples I can use of this was I once (stupidly) climbed a bookcase (when I was about 6) and gravity being the bitch it is, the bookcase fell and it landed on top of me. Thankfully it was empty and not too heavy, but it also made a loud crash sound and I’m quite sure I did as well. But my mother never came although she was only two rooms away, no I had to get this thing off of me and sort myself out. I even had on occasion to be “the man”, when I was about 5 my mother and step father had a row, my mother was pissed, she started throwing things everywhere and at that stage for some odd reason we had a bed in the livingroom, I got my step brother under there and myself as well to protect us from half the house being thrown in our general direction. I was five, FIVE, most kids my age weren’t already fending for themselves and others, no, they were in half decent surroundings with their parennt(s) not doing shit like that.

Later in life was just as shit, I’ve got a number of incidents similar to this one, but I shant bore you with them, I’ll summarise, during school I was the one child all the rest picked on, I had no friends, I played alone and I was very depressed, this continued until I was about 13.

At 13 it started to get better, well sort of. I had friends, my mother was probably on class b drugs by this point and going off the booze, which, I guess you could call it “progress”. However, I knew I was much different to all the other boys, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. This did however become appearent during a lesson about human sexuality, for some reason they asked “do you know what a homosexual is?” and of course EVERYBODY knew “cock sucker”, “faggot”, “fudge packer”, “arse bandit” those whole lot. There I found why I was different, I’m attracted to men, hurrah.

By this point I had nearly lost all emotion, I had got so deep into the pain caused by my parents, having to suffer the torment of the other children at school for years only to be hit with this. At that point I’m almost certain my brain couldn’t cope and started a downfall.

Skipping on a few years or boring antics, my mother upgrading to class a drugs (but now totally off the drink) I was pretty much hollow inside, I had no emotion at all, I couldn’t feel a thing not in that gothic “the world makes me agsty, I feel nothing but angst” way, I couldn’t feel a thing at all, inside I was dead. Untill I had the misfortune to meet somebody I call a friend, it’s not his fault that it’s a misfortune, he just happened to be him.

This was when I was about 15-16 now, my mother still riding in first class on the drug train and of course had her shoplifting scum of a boyfriend living with us (as it’s trademark in the heroin users guide). Whilst at school I found a lovely bloke, I immedatly fell in love with him, for the first time in my life I experienced this and it burned like a flesh wound being poured with salt and vinegar.

I wanted to be with him all the time, every minute I had with him made me feel so great inside, I finally felt like a real human being, but we all know where this goes, he likes ladies, supprise. But that unfortunatly didn’t have an effect on my feelings for him, they just burnt even more.

Eventually it lead me to a near breaking point, whilst my mother was god knows where and my step brother was off with his father, I found the sharpest knife in the house and decided that I couldn’t handle my life any longer, so I went to do the deed, I was going to leave no note, no nothing, not a fucking thing they didn’t deserve it and they probably would have sold my belongings at a boot sale for drug money.

But just as I went to cut the skin, I couldn’t, that fucking bastard I loved so much who would never love me back in the same way prevented me from doing it. I thought how he’d take it and it hurt to even think of what I could have put him through, so I stopped, I couldn’t go through with it.

After about a year or so my mother found a new character to date and she started dispearing for days, thankfully I was clued up enough to have nicked her cash point card and ask her whilst she was high as the moon what her pin was. I got it and I had cash to live on, she didn’t notice of course that she had no access to her bank account, but what the fuck, her son was being fed.

All this came to an end of course, no money went in (as she was unemployed) and the overdraft eventually wore thin. She was still off where ever and I was litterally left with a few pence and a button. This is when the real fun started, I ended up starving for what I can remember being a month, but I was mostly worn out during that period and it could have been only a week for all I know. But I rapidly lost weight all the clothes I had were hanging off of me, they were HUGE.

But on the front I played as if all was ok and there was nothing to worry about, nobody noticed a thing. At one stage I was so hungry that I would have robbed a person for a slice of pizza, not cash, just pizza and that is horrible.

At the end of all that I moved away, away from the man I’d give my life for (but couldn’t tell him) and my mother. I went back in to myself, even more so now as my heart which I offered (without saying a word) was trampled on (by a man who didn’t know it). From then on I was my “usual” no life from within, no love of life or fear of death, I was a flesh robot operating day by day doing what was needed and nothing more.

There are many more events that I didn’t include, but that is pretty much what has occured to this point.

Now to the present, I have recently reopended the “doors” to somebody else, who is returning it, or at least I thought until I inadvertantly read a text message chat that he was partaking in with a fellow named “Lee”, Lee lives in Blackpool, or as it seems from the message “I wish I was in Blackpool right now” but it goes further than that “I feel great since I’ve been thinking of you” he says, along with other such classic quotes as “I’m missing you :(”. This conversation was much more than this, but silently blubbering away with the dog watching repeats of Corrie pushed most of it out of my head now.

What essentially I’m getting back to now is closing up shop for good, never opening up again, these emotions I don’t want to feel any of them ever again, not happyness, not love, not hate, not pain. I want to return to the state where I woke up in the morning and felt nothing, all through out the day, nothing and ended the day with no feeling what so ever.

I had a statement that I was going to make in all this but I forgot it, which is quite a bit of a shit really. But all the same it seems the one who says he loves me really doesn’t and thats fine, because by friday I won’t feel a thing I’ll have returned back to the proper Kevin, the one who just lives and does things inbetween. Not the one who gets caught up in petty shit like this love bollocks.

Now I’m going to bed.

Listening to:

Vibe: NoMoodTag

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