I was only 3 at the time. I was around both my parents at the time. I didn't know much. I didn't realize anything. I was only a baby. After a few years I went through some horrible things no child should go through. My parents divorced at the time. My mom was partying. I lived with my aunt. She cared for me like nobody has ever even till today. I then got taken away for some little reason that didn't matter. I then moved with my uncle and other "aunt", they used me for free money. They didn't buy me things I needed. They left me outside in the cold on a old mattress outside. They didn't care. But I didn't know what was going on. I was only around 5. I didn't understand why these things happened. I got older and still didn't think anything of my past. I didn't remember. I didn't care. But now that I think of it it makes me mad. It pisses me the fuck off. I want to kill them. I want to murder them slowly in front of each other. I wrote a book of my feelings. I kept it for ever until my 21st birthday. I was famous at the time. I was a famous musician. I played the violin. I didn't care about the fame. I cared about having the money. The money so I can buy the things I never had. It didn't feel normal. It made me more depressed. I then bought machines and weapons. I fought all my horrible family. I killed each one slowly and painfully. I recorded it on the internet. For everyone to see. I put my book on the internet for everyone to see. I killed my self. So I can be done with all my stress and problems. I found the meaning of life. DEATH is the meaning. We get closer to it everyday.
