CAUTION

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Hello to my cautious fallen angels! It’s been a while since I last checked in. I tend to write poetry and short stories, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

It’s Mother’s Day and the sadness wrecks havoc once again. I was an unusual child. My mother was afraid of me. She called me “the sick boy.” I spoke of death, misery, and hopelessness around the time my parents were divorced, and also during the time I began to get bullied in school. Then, trauma ensued and I became catatonic from the age of 10 to 18. I dressed in gothic garments, cut myself regularly, and tried to commit suicide whenever I was bored so she could keep me entertained. I blamed her for the loss of my innocence even though she didn’t do it directly.

I used to have sex with gangsters for drugs and pickpocket strangers on the streets to survive. My mother was a whore, and there was never food in the house. I went in and out of psych wards, residentials, group homes, and state hospitals. I got expelled from four different high schools before I finally graduated.

By then, my mother no longer bothered visiting me, let alone keeping me entertained. She gave up on me. I am the “Jason Todd”* of her four children.

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*Jason Todd was the second Robin after Dick Grayson. He was murdered by The Joker. Then, he was resurrected by the use of Ra's Al Ghul's Lazarus Pit. Jason Todd became a villain called The Red Hood.

Now I am a grown man. And every Mother’s Day that comes and goes relinquishes the mental bind I constructed to keep these horrid memories at bay.

I am socially rejected by almost every social group dynamic I have come across throughout the years. I am guarded and I hardly let anyone in. I portray this dark persona but I believe myself to be very gentle and kind. I must be cautious at all times. It’s days like today that never let me forget why I always exercise CAUTION.

Well, just because I hate Mother’s Day due to association by my own life’s experience, it doesn’t mean you feel the same way. At that note, I wish you all a Happy Mother’s Day!

Feel free to check my latest book, a book of poetry called Trials and Tribulations! http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B018ZR0IVA/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?qid=1460319936&sr=8-1&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_QL65&keywords=trials+and+tribulations+sufian

Popsicles: Part 2

Popsicles 1

His truck was actually one of those musical ice cream trucks mommy never let me get ice cream from.

Now I can eat as much ice cream as I want!

I crawled onto the passenger seat. Mommy never let me sit on the passenger side of her car!

There was a clicking sound when daddy pressed a button under his window.

“Make sure your door is locked. I don’t want you to fall out and get hurt,” he said to me.

I checked the door and it was indeed locked. Daddy cares about me more than mommy does.

Soon enough, we were cruising down the streets in exhilarating speed. It was so fun!

Daddy put on some playful music all throughout the ride until we came to a stop.

He unlocked the door by the time the Sun went to bed and then led me through a parking lot.

“Where’s the candy?” I asked happily.

Daddy bent down until we were face to face.

“There’s no candy, silly boy! But how about I give you this instead.”

He began to unzip his pants.

“What’s… what’s going on?” I struggled to mutter, “Mommy said that’s a private area…”

I started to back away but the man kept tip-toeing towards me as if not to wake anyone up.

I ran through the parking lot. He chased me and he wouldn’t stop.

“Tag, you’re it!” he yelled.

He grabbed my head and forced me down. He took the words right out my mouth.

Daddy gave me a pink popsicle to make me stop crying.

Where’s mommy? What am I gonna do without her?

Feel free to like and comment on this post and I will do the same for you. Also, please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B012BSPFCQ/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?qid=1452971409&sr=1-1&pi=AC_SX110_SY165_QL70&keywords=The+Pandemonium+Chronicles

Popsicles: Part 1

Popsicles 2

Mommy told me that I have a new daddy and that he’ll love me too. Then she gave me a pink popsicle to make me stop crying.

I smiled up at her through the tears. I loved her so much! What would I do without her?

“What a nice day at the park!” she exclaimed as she feigned excitement.

The snow disappeared a few days ago so the grass glistened with morning dew. Flowers reached for the sky in a desperate attempt to not bear witness of what was to come.

My tears dried up fast underneath a powerful sun ray casting forth a spotlight for a preemptive performance of a lifetime.

The other kids didn’t want to play with me. They were all playing tag at the playground.

But at least mommy wanted to stick around!

I glanced in her direction. She was sitting on the wooden bench talking into her new toy. She bought it instead of getting me any of my favorite snacks, even the healthy stuff I didn’t like.

She didn’t even bother making me eat broccoli anymore. Good! I hated broccoli!

Mommy never looked back at me even long after I finished eating my popsicle. I wanted more! So I tugged on her pantleg to get her attention but all she did was motion her finger to her glossy lips and turn the other way before continuing to talk to someone else.

Somewhere off in the distance, a funny looking man whistled for me to come over to him. He must be the new daddy that mommy was telling me about!

Once I approached him behind the really fat tree, I asked him if he was my new daddy.

“Uh… yeah, sure kid. Do you want some candy, little boy?”

I smiled and nodded earnestly.

“I got a whole truck full of candy! Let’s go for a joyride!”

What a nice guy! I already love my new daddy!

To be continued…

Feel free to like and comment on this post and I will do the same for you. Also, please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B012BSPFCQ/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?qid=1452971409&sr=1-1&pi=AC_SX110_SY165_QL70&keywords=The+Pandemonium+Chronicles

Yet Another Way to Describe Misery

Let’s live a lie because the truth is too hard to arouse.

I must replenish my will to live weakly weekly in His house.

Deferring my dreams like a raisin in the sun –

The mask is pretty enough to provide me false fun.

Timidness is an act in a performance that I’ve mastered in this cage.

Friendship is merely a hologram in this technological age…

Neglect my existence over and over again until I’m just a nuisance.

I will invade your emotions until they’re anything but elusive.

Only someone whose odd can be number one.

Yet another way to describe misery but I’m almost done.

All my poems seem to be written in a similar way

For happiness is indigenous same shit different day.

To let him down gently

Hello to my fallen angels! As a child, I was weak, naive, innocent, vulnerable, and defenseless. I had always been on the receiving end of heartbreak, trauma, abuse, neglect, and disownment. Now that I am grown, I realize just how it feels to inflict pain on others. The tormented becomes the tormentor. I find myself saying things to people that makes them instantly suicidal. A summary of my psychoanalysis of them. Just like the things my ex used to say to me. My ex was psychic and he said that if I knew my future, I would lose my mind and end up in an asylum for the rest of my life. He also said that after two years of knowing each other, he only let me through the side door. He never intended on giving all of himself to me ever. I felt suicidal in a heartbeat. Now there’s this new guy I am talking to that I am no longer interested in. Now I find myself having to end something that will hurt someone the same way my ex hurt me. I already constructed a psychoanalysis of the new guy and if I really wanted to, I could easily destroy him with my words as well. But I would never inflict the amount of pain my ex inflicted on me once upon a time. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I haven’t really been 100% honest with the new guy. In a nutshell, he lives with his mother, four years older than me, no savings, no car, no friends, no sense of independence, a virgin, and he has the mentality of a female. Which turns me off quite so. Thats a summary. I could put more on this post but nothing good will come out of that. Subconsciously, my ex is my idol, my dark side that I find very sexy yet terrifying at the same time. Why Harley Quinn stays with Joker no matter how much he abuses her? Or why do women stay with abusive men when everyone knows there are ways to get out? It’s because there’s this sick, twisted side of people like me that enjoy being miserable, temperamental, argumentative, and submissive. So now three days straight, the new guy has been texting me hysterical cus I’m no longer replying to my texts. The same reason waiting for my ex’s call was a kind of maddening torture. I don’t know how to let him down gently the same way my ex didn’t even bother doing. I am in a better place in my life than I have ever been. I live alone with a built up savings account for I am very ambitious. I pay my own bills and I been through so much hardship that I am resilient, apathetic, and guarded. Nothing really phases me anymore. Some things that help me cope with a broken heart (as an empath) are practicing daily on grounding, centering, and shielding. The reason I care about letting this new guy down gently is because I want to be a better person my ex was. To be honest, if I never got my heart butchered by my ex’s pink knife, I wouldn’t give a damn about being nice. But my former flame changed the way I see the world. I could become him or forever oppose him. I choose the latter. For if my ex is truly evil, and I am a good soul, then by definition, our forces will forever clash. Not literally, metaphorically. So my good act will be to let the new guy down gently. But how I do that when I’m so used to enjoying hurting people? I’m asking you, my fallen angels, is there a good way to break things off with someone? If so, how? A victim-to-bully-to-redeemed-soul. Have a wonderful day! Over and out.

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! 🙂