As I said before, I was pretty much like a pet human being; my family nor my friends respected me. And since my parents tried to teach me, I didn't know what I needed to leave when I wanted..many, many, many times. I started simply waiting to die.....
As a adult my Only real happiness came from a book I wrote. Even after everything: I still consider it my magnum opus. The best I could possibly do or a example of my very best! I couldn't replicate how well that process went and how great that book is. Nothing I wrote before or after could match up to it, so despite my attempts to expand or do something new: it, itself still remains the best. I even remember thinking my life was completed after finishing this story, and I could die happy after finishing it
But shortly after that year, the peace faded and I was treated worse as I had threw myself deeply into replicating & finding the happiness. Until the power went out. My comic and everything else I was working on was pn a device and was put on hold, while my dad and brothers madly ran around the house trying to see what started up what..(this nearly started a few electrical fires..) I purposely tried ignoring and staying out of this, as everything I joined in became a round of "hey look, it's the village idiot!" But a light erupted within this literally dark time…………………..
Comments (0)
See all