old again....
cable here...not a fuck for your face...just power
Category: Life
one time, my father scolded me. I might have been 11 years old. I took a bite of his oh so precious italian cold cut sub. He offered it to me. I did not audaciously wrap my tiny mouth around the culinary delight witouht permission. I remember the vinegar flavor, the ham and fancy fucking with-out-papers deli meat hittimg my tiny tongue thinking, "I am tasting what the adults eat! I am closer to Dad. I can be like him, " or at least attain a percentage of his level of manliness with the enjoyment of this sub (whether I fake it or not).
My memory gets cloudy, as I have treid to erase how much this actually hurt me.
As my bite down, I feel the juice and the meat and everythign slide away from my mouth. Everything but the bread. that fucking shit white-sub-roll lands square in my mouth, dropping half of the guts of the sub onto the table. the plastic covered, sterile table that I would lick pudding off of for dessert as a man, with full knowedge of germs and salminila and fucking disease. my ignorance shines through like a lighthouse. Regardless, his sub has changed. it is no longer pristine and delicate like the cunt he fucked to create my older sister that was ruined from her birth. he must have fucked that blasted shit to create me. forget the woman, back to the sub and the crushed little boy.
this is where the clouds roll in. He lost it. I don..t remember much. just that I was crying ans sad andso hurt...and in the next 2 weeks my mother left him. totally unrelated, except that his stress level might have been high and I was the straw that broke the anger camel, but reagrdless...little boy, angry dad, still thinking about it now? jesus fucking skul fuck.
and so be it.. I will never have a child. not for just that reason, but many others.
cunt fart.
droping loads..
cable here...not a fuck for your face...just power
Category: Life
one time, my father scolded me. I might have been 11 years old. I took a bite of his oh so precious italian cold cut sub. He offered it to me. I did not audaciously wrap my tiny mouth around the culinary delight witouht permission. I remember the vinegar flavor, the ham and fancy fucking with-out-papers deli meat hittimg my tiny tongue thinking, "I am tasting what the adults eat! I am closer to Dad. I can be like him, " or at least attain a percentage of his level of manliness with the enjoyment of this sub (whether I fake it or not).
My memory gets cloudy, as I have treid to erase how much this actually hurt me.
As my bite down, I feel the juice and the meat and everythign slide away from my mouth. Everything but the bread. that fucking shit white-sub-roll lands square in my mouth, dropping half of the guts of the sub onto the table. the plastic covered, sterile table that I would lick pudding off of for dessert as a man, with full knowedge of germs and salminila and fucking disease. my ignorance shines through like a lighthouse. Regardless, his sub has changed. it is no longer pristine and delicate like the cunt he fucked to create my older sister that was ruined from her birth. he must have fucked that blasted shit to create me. forget the woman, back to the sub and the crushed little boy.
this is where the clouds roll in. He lost it. I don..t remember much. just that I was crying ans sad andso hurt...and in the next 2 weeks my mother left him. totally unrelated, except that his stress level might have been high and I was the straw that broke the anger camel, but reagrdless...little boy, angry dad, still thinking about it now? jesus fucking skul fuck.
and so be it.. I will never have a child. not for just that reason, but many others.
cunt fart.
droping loads..