none of this should have happened anyway, i mean, i was never supposed to live.
i was supposed to have been an abortion. in a way i could call myself the victim of a horrible beginning, in another way a savior for the future. i guess it's all in how you look at it. any situation can be considered disasterous, but maybe the bad thing that happened, helped create an opportunity that couldn't have been possible any other way. and so, now i look at everything i've encountered in this existance that never shoulda been, as nothing more than a gift. a gift i maybe take for granted, sometimes, but a gift neverless. there is one reason i know i had to be saved, and it's because i was supposed to be. i am here now because i had to be, otherwise, the world wouldn't be the sickly beautiful place it is.
i say i was never supposed to be because, it's true. i was not created out of love, but instead, lust. and so i wasn't a planned or anticipated thing. vi instead was something that exposed and destroyed my birth parents, and i was born as an example of what filthy lust would produce. my existence, although not anticipated, was necessary, because i was meant to be.
this isn't a religious story, nor one for the right to life, but the story of how when you think you should never have lived, you don't care enough to think that if it was all is taken away, it would be missed. and how if it would never have been missed, it didn't care if itself was gone. this carelessness in ones mind about themselves makes it nearly impossible to teach it good from bad, right from wrong, and so, it does as it likes and becomes it's own thing. something different than the rest, because the rest were meant to be, because they create a sense of normalcy.
there is nothing normal here.
only a ticking time bomb of something that was never supposed to be. and because it's here, and alive, it will change the world as you expect it to be.
because it doesn't care. or maybe it cares a little bit more.
about 45 years ago, my uncle had an affair. he was married and already had three children, but because he is a man, much like me, who can't seem to keep it in his pants, he did as he wanted, and in the heat of passion spawned a child. the child was meant to be aborted before anyone knew anything about it, but my grandmother heard a rumor about her son, and when questioned, he broke down and admitted his mistake. my grandmother, a very strong minded woman told him that in no way would this child be aborted, but instead, she intended to know this child, and raise it in her family, because this was her grandchild, and he it would not be killed because of her sons mistakes. instead, he would be a symbol for the rest of his life to remind him of his stupidity. my uncles brother, Joe, and his wife, had been trying desperately to have a kid for eight years with nothing to show for it but eight miscarriages. this child, my grandmother thought, would have a better chance if raised by Joe, and so, the day the baby was born, he was adopted by Joe and his wife, who loved and adored this child in close proximity to the disgraced eye of his uncle. this child would remind his uncle forever, of his ultimate betrayal and failure.
i was that very child who was born out of wedlock, was supposed to have never been, into the disgrace and shame of one man, and the adoration and love of another, his brother.
it all seems very soap opera, but i guess it was just how it was supposed to be. this is the true basis of my existence. the way things happened for this coulda been abortion. it's the story of how a small town boy developed himself and his skills to become the crazy mess he was supposed to be. how he overcame and accepted his fate as the almost aborted... and how he would set out to prove his necessity to himself and the world.
everything happens for a reason...
better run better run, faster than my bullet.