tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70255193150707995302024-02-21T04:59:13.527-08:00Remnants of my life29 and Living...http://www.blogger.com/profile/16906299133293979894noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7025519315070799530.post-67761617388634634612011-08-15T21:03:00.000-07:002011-08-15T21:39:54.172-07:00Left field...or always there...?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwDCLaV18zcNecJoi7fQPkbaqSEA8eZpB1Z3dUK7WdH74fazXffb-eG09hiLnzQkvQv_eFYBk9LBGa-UHrBOQfhY_8KyeCmOdeslfntjoGHtrQgFK7hh5puiuZesP0O3SJgkOYobTAkw/s1600/619.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwDCLaV18zcNecJoi7fQPkbaqSEA8eZpB1Z3dUK7WdH74fazXffb-eG09hiLnzQkvQv_eFYBk9LBGa-UHrBOQfhY_8KyeCmOdeslfntjoGHtrQgFK7hh5puiuZesP0O3SJgkOYobTAkw/s320/619.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641308829189800354" /></a>
<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" >As I walk outside past the downstairs door (at my family home) - which is fully open-, i ask my "dad" (stepdad) where my brother is? His response: in the shower. Me: does he not shower in his own bathroom anymore? Him: you're obnoxious and rude. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Hmm...you're wondering what happened? or who gives a fuck about where your brother showers? or i don't understand...??</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Well, I could give you the long version but I will save that for later. Prequel to the Remnants of my Life. So here goes:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >At the age of 10, on October 11, 1996, Ma (mother), Mona (sister), and I flew 16 hours to immigrate North of the equator to this massive piece of land on which we now reside. North where the weather is cold, mainly in this region. It's pretty much fall all year round. Kinda like Forks from Twilight but less luscious and more city. I was/still am in awe of this beautiful place. Culture shock: check. Relatives at a close proximity: check. Halloween: check. Christmas: check. Repeat grade 6 due to the twisted school system: check.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Well, my whole life was re-vamped in a blink of an eye. Literally. What could I, would I or should I have done? Nothing. My ma did what she thought best for my sister and I. And she continued to live, putting us first always.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Putting us first? Brings me to the dude who on numerous occasions and today reminded me that I am an obnoxious and rude person. I won't completely deny it cause guess what? I am. Not always but I can most defo be. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >1998 - Ma gets married to an Englandy (as I remember my family call him by). Woop T! I was excited that I might finally have a dad, the whole family (Dad, mom, sister, me, possibly a younger sibling) that i've always desired. Well, that dream went down the drain pretty fast. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >My mom left one deadbeat abusive jerk 24 years ago to protect us and her parents and herself. 13 years ago, she made the same mistake, but this time she can't escape because she is afraid of loss. She doesn't want to lose her only precious son. I totally understand that because my younger brother is the gem of this family. No matter how bratty, how annoying, how smelly, he is always and forever the apple of our eyes, the fire in our hearts, the lifeline to this family. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Unfortunately, ma didn't realize when she married him that he would end up being such a deadfuckenbeat...would work 6 months, than wouldn't work for another year. Mom was forced back to work 6 months after having my brother because someone had to bring home income. I was 14 and in high school, and I was putting my brother to sleep at night, feeding him in the middle of the night, changing his diaper, and putting him back to bed. At age 14, I was fulfilling the duties of a new mother. I didn't mind cause I was so excited, and I was getting all this time to spend with my brother. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >At the age of 15, Mona was working two jobs, while attending high school fulltime, helping out around the house, taking care of baby. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Phew, being part of my family was a toughy for the women. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Well...i'll continue this after because I've exhausted myself emotionally. What goes down in my life is due to a combination of reasons: bad decisions, lack of communication, pick of bad friends, trust in the worst...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >wonder why that is..?</span></div><div>
<br /></div>29 and Living...http://www.blogger.com/profile/16906299133293979894noreply@blogger.com0