07-08 Writing Exchange III

Writing Exchange III
January 27, 2008

Journal #22
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about all kinds of things: about this one special girl, about how I might be getting off probation soon, and about how I’m going to be moving back with my mom soon. All of these things make me feel great, but there is another thing that seems to take over my thoughts. It doesn’t matter how good my life is going, when I think of this I almost cry every time and I am not one to cry. It is my daughter. I have no ill feelings about having her too early in life, but it is that I haven’t been able to see her for a long time, years. She just turned three. Her mom moved out of the area and she won’t tell me where she is or let me see her. I miss her so much. I love her with all of my heart and I always will. It hurts so much every time I think about her. I’ll do everything in my power to find her.

Journal #23
I’m just trying to get my life straight. It was never horrible, but I definitely was not on the right track. I just thank God that I messed up early in life because I have time to get my **** together. I’m good at numerous things, hobbies and activities, however, I have no clue what I want to seriously pursue. What I do know is that it’s not gonna be anything too extreme. A good paying job in a small town would do it for me. Some property in the mountains and a family would be ideal. I refuse to live in a city. I hate the whole industrial concrete look when I could be surrounded by trees. I guess you could say I’m a hippie at heart. I love nature. It’s the only thing that will always be breath taking.

Journal #24
Every day I think about running away because I’m usually pissed off at my mom and dad. If I get in trouble, my dad always says, “Do you want to fight me?” I say no and he asks why. I respond, “Because you’re bigger than me and I don’t want to go to school with a missing tooth or a black eye.” My mom says, “You’re lucky I don’t start wailing on your ass.”About a month ago, I told my uncle something that they did not want me to and my dad said, “I’m really thinking about beating the **** out of you.” My mom did. She grabbed a spatula and left long welts across my cheeks and arms. Afterwards, she said she was sorry, but I didn’t accept it. She says it too much. This is why I think about running away. Today is one of those days.

Journal #25
I was a little girl lost in the drug worldI remember my dad just getting out of prison and instantly getting a sackI heard him asking my mom if she would help him shoot upI saw the needleI worried that one day he would get bad drugsI felt I was gonna be just like himI am recently clean and I thank God for thatI think the real world is nothing but pain and sufferingI try to stay away from all of this ******** but it’s hardI feel depressed and angryI forgive my father for bringing meth into my lifeI will graduate and I will be someoneI choose to say no to meth as I slowly heal my addictionI dream of getting away from this place I call hellI hope I will be able to say no for the rest of High SchoolI predict I will make it to collegeI know I will be a way better person than my father.

Journal #26
Why is it that we always find ourselves at night? Last night I was standing on my back porch smoking a cigarette. It was around 12 AM. I wasn’t really even thinking about anything, but somehow my mind wandered to the fact that I don’t really fit in anywhere. I never felt like I really had a home. I mean, sure I lived in houses, had friends, but that never really seemed to matter. In the distance, I heard a rabbit’s dying squeals, and the owl’s hoot. I heard a dog barking and looked towards it. There was nothing there: just trees. I just figured it was the neighbors. I took another drag and looked up as I exhaled. The moon had a soft blanket of clouds covering it, but it still shone through, bathing everything in a grayish-white light. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and finally felt like I belonged. I’ve been searching to find my home for so long, but I finally understand. Home is nowhere, but everywhere around you.

Journal #27
This morning when I woke up, I sat there and stared at the wall, asking myself, “What am I doing alive and why am I waking up every morning.” As I walk into the bathroom, I always hear a rude comment from my guardian’s mouth. This morning it was, “When you wake up you **** up everybody’s day.” As I got ready and looked in the mirror, she asked, “Why are you trying to look cute, nobody is going to look at you?” Sometimes I feel like running away, but I know that will not help me with probation or anything. My life started going bad at the age of 9. I was abused by my step dad. He started raping me. It made me feel so sad and sick inside. At 12, I told my mom and it broke her heart. I had to let someone know. That was when I started cutting.

Journal #28
I was a hardcore pothead. I remember going out to steal weed and having guns aimed at my head. I had gotten away with it a few times. I guess I’m lucky to not have to pay for all of my crimes.I am a better person now. I need to get a job, but how? I have a felony on my record.

Journal #29
I was heading to prison. I remember shooting that man cause of the constant criticism. I heard, “Let’s talk it out,” but the trigger dropped instead. What I thought I saw when I opened my eyes was a body lying dead. He took two bullets: one to the stomach and one to the head.I want to change. I have a wife and a kid. I started going to church to become a man again, to help me get out of the gang life and move on. I want to move on and be a man. Hopefully I can be out in 13 years to be with my wife and child.

Journal #30
I don’t mean to be disrespectful in class and act out. I had some terrible things happen in my family. The grandparents who raised me died within six months of each other. I was eleven years old when they died. My behavior went out of control. I started doing drugs and living on the streets. After four years of that, I had to do something different.I still have a lot of anger and hate built up inside. When I explode, it’s not because of the teachers or the students. It’s just that all my anger and hate comes out at once and it overpowers me. I can’t stop myself. If I don’t get control of my temper, I’m gonna end up in prison or dead.

Journal #31
Take one look at me and tell me what you seeA failure, a thug,It’s what most think when we first meet.Until we speak and you get to know meI’m just a young boy with intelligence seeking a hero.Someone to look up to in this weird world.Someone different than the ones giving me weed, pills of ecstasySittin next to me passing the HennessyMany tell me I have a good head on my shouldersSquares to gangsters say the sameBut for some reason negativity rules my brain.I’m not sayin’ these are the people to becomeI’m just pondering why my mind is so deranged.