The Journal

My Life

Spare notebooks galore, and a little free time is all it takes to conjure up an idea like this, though some part of me is resentful I'm glad I'm starting this journal before my memory starts to weaken.

I guess I'll start with my life and my upbringing. My parents were in their mid-twenties when they made me. My mother was ready to settle down and start a family but my Father wasn't quite as ready. In fact... He wasn't ready at all, and took off to some other state before I was even born, but he was around long enough to get my mother pregnant. Every now and again I pass by him on Facebook with his arm around a different woman every time. Strange how someone so sad can have a smile that big.

My brother Frank yes-I-still-can't-believe-they-really-named-him-that Stein, is a little younger than me, soon after my mother realized what my father had left her for, she fell into the worst mid life crises of all history and started spending every night at a different guys house, partying and doing things I'd rather try to forget, trying to remember her former youth.

One time she even came home high on something I couldn't explain the effects of, either acid or cocain, and tried to smashed me under the fridge... I'll never forget how fast she sobered when the fridge fell over onto my foot, completely crushing it.

It did heal eventually, but the bump in my mothers stomach from one of her one night stands, didn't. She kept the baby from one of the guys she slept with and never told the father about it. Poor Franky doesn't even know his father.

Maybe things are better off this way, maybe my mother is right, maybe she's wrong. I don't know and I don't care. It's not my problem to deal with. My own problems are enough for me, thank you.