America the poor: A Wanderers Tale, Volume One

Chapter 25: Have a Beer Boy ,and meeting my Mistake

Life with a christian couple with two very young girls, was interesting to say the least. I was the invader, the fifth wheel (literally). However, they did their best to include me; Especially in the chores like dishes, which became exclusively my personal purgatory, so credit to them at least for trying. However, I was willful, and stubbornness ran in my very blood, and probably always will.

I had my own set mind, my own beliefs, and even back then, I resented religion in all its forms; I saw it as the ultimate con, even at that young age. Bible studies and all church services for me were closer to Hell on Earth, or at least mighty close to it.

If there was a God, he wasn't kind, nor merciful, to allow such horrible events to happen to fairly innocent boys and girls. If He was all Powerful and Good, He would have intervened before it even happened. Religion was a scam to me, and always will be, even now. However, my friends were "born again" christians, and so I tolerated what I must, believing nothing, except in myself, and what my eyes saw.

I smiled, and did what I had to in order to merely get by. I suspect I had a touch of diplomacy in my plethora of past lives somewhere. I must have had to tolerate what I have in my long life without the soothing condition of madness. The truly insane must have access to such a relief, to put aside the pain of living, for another reality, even if it doesn't exist, it still exists for them, which must be a kindness I suspect.

In my time with them,I ended up meeting a lot of other christian folks. Patricia's mother, her brother, and various other family members and long time associates.

So it's worth noting, my experiences with the female gender was colored somewhat negatively by that point. I was used to females yelling at me a lot, my mother of course, teachers obviously, girls disgusted at school, doing nothing but mocking at me, and sneering, and laughing of course. They laughed at Joseph as well, but somehow he ended up overcoming all that, I never did.

My impression clouded my opinions of all females, for all time. Patricia yelled at me often; However, since I usually gave her damned good reasons to react such as the river of milk incident, I can understand why. I know I was never easy to live with, back then, and today too. I have a strong powerful presence, and make myself known by my very nature. Meekness was never something I had to deal with, I speak up for myself, as much as American modern society wishes I didn't.

Back then, I found some girls very cute physically, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. Pretty much all my experience with the opposite gender was based on cruelty, usually towards myself. The life of a misfit and outcast I suppose.

Sometimes I would be drawn to them, their voices, their hair, their softness, their mannerisms, but I didn't realize why. I had a libido, maturing, but I wasn't aware of exactly what it even was back then. Girls were certainly never interested or drawn to me, for any reason. Very strange that I should be drawn to them, for all my belittlement I still tried to put up with them. It would be only natural that I should learn to hate them, in every way, from my treatment over the years.

The laughing, the hate, the scorn, and the embarrassment, I was always just being myself, but I only got derision from girls back then. Very little has changed from that time.

At a certain point, I met a female relative of Patricia, lets call her Cee. Through some random occurrence, I met her at our place. She was a few years older than me (of course), related by direct blood to Patricia, maybe a cousin. She was amazingly alluring to me. Granted, I was very young, quite naive, and still very innocent, but not completely jaded. Perhaps even though I should have been, considering my treatment from ALL females around me by then.

She was slightly taller than me, long black hair, alluring dark eyes, slender, and fully 100 percent italian, I was drawn to her, as a hungry vampire to a beautiful innocent. I really could never exactly say why, but it was like the essence of life itself. Her beauty, her voice, her very mannerisms, drew my utter attention. Like a lover of gold to the inner vaults of Fort Knox, she was something I needed somehow, but I haven't a clue as to WHY I needed her, I just did. Everything else paled compared to being in her presence.