Ever since i was a little girl i've been infatuated with the stories of the neo celebrity it girl. more commonly known as the poor little rich girl who's fall from grace lighted the way for not only her own self destruction but the love of nation. it's funny, the more fucked up someone seems the more we seem to flock to them. I'm not talking about the products of the hollywood machine like britney spears, though i have a feeling that years from now the stories will somehow be relevant and movies will be made. I say movies because she isn't brilliant or fascinating enough to credit a film and history will reflect that.
How did we go from disgraced brilliance to showy patheticness?
Somehow this has made me feel the need to reminisce... well that and the influence of explaining things to my brother yesterday... past disturbances that he had blocked from his mind, yet strangely i held on to.
I cling to the past sometimes and remember more then anyone could guess. I guess that in the midst of a happy childhood i lived a more frightening and slightly disturbing one. Like when my cousin tc decided to beat the shit out his sister with a baseball bat in front of my brother and i, then threatened to do the same to us if we didn't come with him. and how later nothing could be done to punish him because he was strong enough to beat his parents with only his hands. Everyone feared him.. on some level anyway. I know i did... but I was scared of a lot of my family. Nightly entertainment drawn from torturing me because they could and i always held to the fear. The sick pleasure that people get when you are terrified of them..
That's why i was so close to my grandpa... he never, in any of my memories held the same happiness from my despair. He was my protector, my happiness, until his body wouldn't allow him to.
What would he think of us now? What have we become?
But dwelling in the darkness of one's past when alone at night isn't necessarily a good idea especially for those of us with a fondness of physical self destruction and self mutilation.
we can't escape our pasts, we can only grow and hope to one day move beyond them.
unfortunatly in the lightless rooms of my empty house i can't escape myself.
How did we go from disgraced brilliance to showy patheticness?
Somehow this has made me feel the need to reminisce... well that and the influence of explaining things to my brother yesterday... past disturbances that he had blocked from his mind, yet strangely i held on to.
I cling to the past sometimes and remember more then anyone could guess. I guess that in the midst of a happy childhood i lived a more frightening and slightly disturbing one. Like when my cousin tc decided to beat the shit out his sister with a baseball bat in front of my brother and i, then threatened to do the same to us if we didn't come with him. and how later nothing could be done to punish him because he was strong enough to beat his parents with only his hands. Everyone feared him.. on some level anyway. I know i did... but I was scared of a lot of my family. Nightly entertainment drawn from torturing me because they could and i always held to the fear. The sick pleasure that people get when you are terrified of them..
That's why i was so close to my grandpa... he never, in any of my memories held the same happiness from my despair. He was my protector, my happiness, until his body wouldn't allow him to.
What would he think of us now? What have we become?
But dwelling in the darkness of one's past when alone at night isn't necessarily a good idea especially for those of us with a fondness of physical self destruction and self mutilation.
we can't escape our pasts, we can only grow and hope to one day move beyond them.
unfortunatly in the lightless rooms of my empty house i can't escape myself.