babyburnwithluv
11-21-2006, 07:43 PM
My Life
I wake up in the morning, take a shower, and get dressed. So many questions run through my mind and other s*** runs through my mind. There are so many questions in my mind that I can never find answers to. I sit on my bed and think about worthless bulls***. I go to school and get yelled at by teachers for no f****** reason. Its total f****** bulls***!!!!!! I come home and get yelled at by my mom and her retarted boyfriend who is a pain in the f****** *** and all he does is yell at everything and everyone. He yells at my mom, he yells at me, he yells at my two dogs winston and maggie. He shoves maggie into the cage like she was a piece of f***** paper.
I sit on my chair and talk to my friends on xbox live, msn, and aim. I write poems called All Alone, When I Wake Up, Unknown,Crying, One Night Only, My Last Stand, Am I Dead Or Alive, Moment Of Truth, Broken Home, Questions, and Life... I wish my dad was alive, he died when I was six. We went to a ski place with friends and he went down a slushy hill and broke his leg and we drove him to the hospital. He got screws, metal plates, and staples all the way from his knee down to his ankel. He died April 18th. If the doctor gave him his f****** pills then he would still be alive today but no all the doctor wanted to do was to get paid and go on with his life. My father died from a blood clot, it broke off from his leg and went to his brain and stopped the blood flow. I will never forget when the firefighter named frosty came to the door and rang the doorbell and my mom went with the firefighter in his truck and met up with the ambulance on the freeway. My mom had my neighbor come home and "babysit" me while my mom went with frosty. They cought up with the ambulance and my mom could see the paramedics doing CPR and other s*** to my father in the ambulance. If they air-lifted my father to the hospital, they probably could of done brain surgery or leg surgery whatever the f*** they had to do and atleast try to save my dad, but no all they did was take him to the hospital through a f****** ambulance and he died in the hospital. My mom came home and I was sleeping in her bed and she woke me up and I will never forget the look in her face when she told me my daddy died. Ever since then, every night, I sit in my bed and think for hours on about my day and why did my daddy die and why did the f***** assh*** doctor not give my daddy the pills? I swear to god if I ever see that f****** doctor, I will murder him for what he did to me and my family when I saw my daddy in the cofin. That image will never leave my mind.
Rodney Morton, my moms retarted boyfriend sits outside on a sofa smoking and making the garage smell like smoke. He comes inside and yells at my mom because his dinner is to f***** cold for him when all he has to f****** do is put it in the microwave for 1-3 minutes and wait. He isn't going to f****** die. He sleeps in my house and wakes up at 4:30 AM and goes outside and gets in his loud *** truck and drives home, while his truck wakes everyone up when we try to sleep. He yells at me for not saying "thank you" loud enough so his f****** deaf ears can hear me and he slams my door shut. He hits me for telling my mom something and he yells at me and tells me to stop acting like a 4 year old and tells me to grow up. He goes into the kitchen and sits down at the table and eats his dinner. He works and if he has or had a s***** day he comes to my house and yells at my mom for the stupidest reasons and alot of the times he says he is going to dump her. Over and over again he says that he is going to dump her and she sits in a chair or she goes to lay down and she crys for hours and she crys herself to sleep and it makes my heart break in half.
Thats my life, I know its not that much but I am always thinking about that doctor who killed my father and why my father is dead and why we went sking. I have never stopped thinking. I am always thinking, when I sleep I think, when I am eating, I think, when I die I am going to be thinking. I will never stop thinking. When I die I will never stop questioning. When I sleep I will never stop questions. When I think, I question and when I question, I think. I will never have answers to my questions. Why wont I have answers to my questions? Because I never stop questioning and when I think I have all my questions to my answers, I get more questions and I will never have answers to some of them. And now my life is nothing, nothing at all. I sit on my chair and type this thing and think and question, and I will never have an answer to this thing. I cry myself to sleep, I want to committe suicide, I want to die. I also want to live and have a family and grow up, but with my mom yelling at me and her boyfriend yelling and abusing me, I don't think I have much longer until I break myself.
I wake up in the morning, take a shower, and get dressed. So many questions run through my mind and other s*** runs through my mind. There are so many questions in my mind that I can never find answers to. I sit on my bed and think about worthless bulls***. I go to school and get yelled at by teachers for no f****** reason. Its total f****** bulls***!!!!!! I come home and get yelled at by my mom and her retarted boyfriend who is a pain in the f****** *** and all he does is yell at everything and everyone. He yells at my mom, he yells at me, he yells at my two dogs winston and maggie. He shoves maggie into the cage like she was a piece of f***** paper.
I sit on my chair and talk to my friends on xbox live, msn, and aim. I write poems called All Alone, When I Wake Up, Unknown,Crying, One Night Only, My Last Stand, Am I Dead Or Alive, Moment Of Truth, Broken Home, Questions, and Life... I wish my dad was alive, he died when I was six. We went to a ski place with friends and he went down a slushy hill and broke his leg and we drove him to the hospital. He got screws, metal plates, and staples all the way from his knee down to his ankel. He died April 18th. If the doctor gave him his f****** pills then he would still be alive today but no all the doctor wanted to do was to get paid and go on with his life. My father died from a blood clot, it broke off from his leg and went to his brain and stopped the blood flow. I will never forget when the firefighter named frosty came to the door and rang the doorbell and my mom went with the firefighter in his truck and met up with the ambulance on the freeway. My mom had my neighbor come home and "babysit" me while my mom went with frosty. They cought up with the ambulance and my mom could see the paramedics doing CPR and other s*** to my father in the ambulance. If they air-lifted my father to the hospital, they probably could of done brain surgery or leg surgery whatever the f*** they had to do and atleast try to save my dad, but no all they did was take him to the hospital through a f****** ambulance and he died in the hospital. My mom came home and I was sleeping in her bed and she woke me up and I will never forget the look in her face when she told me my daddy died. Ever since then, every night, I sit in my bed and think for hours on about my day and why did my daddy die and why did the f***** assh*** doctor not give my daddy the pills? I swear to god if I ever see that f****** doctor, I will murder him for what he did to me and my family when I saw my daddy in the cofin. That image will never leave my mind.
Rodney Morton, my moms retarted boyfriend sits outside on a sofa smoking and making the garage smell like smoke. He comes inside and yells at my mom because his dinner is to f***** cold for him when all he has to f****** do is put it in the microwave for 1-3 minutes and wait. He isn't going to f****** die. He sleeps in my house and wakes up at 4:30 AM and goes outside and gets in his loud *** truck and drives home, while his truck wakes everyone up when we try to sleep. He yells at me for not saying "thank you" loud enough so his f****** deaf ears can hear me and he slams my door shut. He hits me for telling my mom something and he yells at me and tells me to stop acting like a 4 year old and tells me to grow up. He goes into the kitchen and sits down at the table and eats his dinner. He works and if he has or had a s***** day he comes to my house and yells at my mom for the stupidest reasons and alot of the times he says he is going to dump her. Over and over again he says that he is going to dump her and she sits in a chair or she goes to lay down and she crys for hours and she crys herself to sleep and it makes my heart break in half.
Thats my life, I know its not that much but I am always thinking about that doctor who killed my father and why my father is dead and why we went sking. I have never stopped thinking. I am always thinking, when I sleep I think, when I am eating, I think, when I die I am going to be thinking. I will never stop thinking. When I die I will never stop questioning. When I sleep I will never stop questions. When I think, I question and when I question, I think. I will never have answers to my questions. Why wont I have answers to my questions? Because I never stop questioning and when I think I have all my questions to my answers, I get more questions and I will never have answers to some of them. And now my life is nothing, nothing at all. I sit on my chair and type this thing and think and question, and I will never have an answer to this thing. I cry myself to sleep, I want to committe suicide, I want to die. I also want to live and have a family and grow up, but with my mom yelling at me and her boyfriend yelling and abusing me, I don't think I have much longer until I break myself.