On the 24th of next month I’ll be 21 years of age. Another year to go by without any favorable events, another year filled with stress and hard work. Another lonely Christmas to spend alone, another birthday, another reminded of how I couldn’t have felt any more deprived, deceived, and disgusted in my creation. The universe has wronged me in too many ways. You realize there isn’t any justice to be found in life. You realize that life isn’t only a tough place, you take away the flames erupting from the ground and we have a fully depicted Hell. I wonder to myself how children can suffer for so many years. How the odds are stacks and overwhelming. Are there any reasons why how I could have awakened every day for twenty years with the same recycled misfortune? Is there anything you can really believe in, besides yourself? I once thought that everything was going to work out and the next moment I was devastated. Is this what we call a cheap fate? I don’t know what is expected of me, I don’t know what life wants from me. It’s never been about what I want from life – because every chapter, every phase in my life there was this immediate pressure: some sixteen car pileup on the cultural highway. Long ago my grandmother gathered her three children in a car and begun to speed. She had the intention of slaying herself along with her children. My grandmother often abused her children in awful ways. My grandmother used to feed her children with dog food. My grandmother is metal ill. My mother calls the event a miracle. The car engine had erupted in flames. Trapped in the car and while all seemed terribly wrong they were saved. On the sunny clear sky of a day, in the middle of nowhere they were saved. Within moments there was a down pour, so much that it was enough to extinguish the flames within a matter of seconds. Years later when my mother was only sixteen she had passed out at some party. There were a variety of men at the party who decided to take advantage of that. One by one a number of men decided to rape my mother. Today I’m the product of my own mother’s rape. Today I don’t have a father. Today there is a man in this world that doesn’t even realize there is human being on this earth because of him. That man deserves to understand the pain that I’ve lived with. Do you know the pain of pulling on your hair, barely clinging to life? The moisture you feel as you run your hands down your face in distress. Do you know the taste of mucus that fills your nostrils and the tears the meet your lip? There is a rage inside of me that feels much like a vice around the chest, slowly tightening around me. Then you cling to your shabby blanket in the night, the closest thing to tenderness in your life. That was what I call a childhood. I was considered a retard in school. I was often the ugliest kid in the school. I have a lazy left eye and I have mild dyslexia. I was the kid that spent some nights flipping through an old hand dictionary. For hours and hours I did such. For no other reason than to aid me in my spelling. The only aid I had for my homework. I had erased used paper and repeat because I had little to no supplies. I still failed in school. I was humiliated and ostracized for a number of years. I eventually dropped out of high school. Everybody has dreams, I had dreams. When you log onto things life facebook and see so many people posting pictures and enjoying life. So seemed to be so much worldly prosperity in these people’s lives, there is innocence, there is joy. You see your friends attending university and enjoying themselves. You see those forming relationships on a constant. You see all these things you wanted for yourself, it hurts. Instead I had to witness my mother attempt suicide. I had to deal with a raging alcoholic for so many years. I have almost no family. The closest thing to a relationship I had involved her friends who created lies about me, ridiculed me. There was no dignity or grace because there was only confusion. The only time I felt excited but I was left to bleed dry. There was an intense connection yet still I have no answers. I have no idea. I’m left with something I have to remember for the rest of my life. There is no God and there is no reason to have hope. Life is cheap, espeically mine. I walk home on a cold dark night from another shift at work. Work some depression 14 an hour job. I sleep and awaken to a new disappointment in my life.