I've got a headache...
And nobody reads these.

But...uh.
I'm gonna maybe start uploading again...when i get my self esteem back.
Wanna make a picture for this song: [link]Cyuq-ofnPc
Probably draw Ringo.

I've been feeling really ungood lately. Usually i have great mental and (blarf) emotional stamina. I mean, i've had to. Guess it ran out.

I've got an idea. Here's my quick life story.

I was born in a bathtub with the help of a midwife. Now that i think of it, i wonder id there was water in the tub. I should ask. It'd be better to be born into water than hit the cold floor of the tub first thing.

Anyway, we lived with two other people my parents' age in a house in Seattle that seemed large at my age but was probably really small due to our poverty. The only thing i remember from that house is Inga, our wild cat we picked off the street in her cage built into the window pit staring back at me. She was all but feral. Ever since i was young i've been fascinated with animals, their mystery, their innocence. I used to be able to make them trust me almost just with body language. Even now, i have trouble holding my fists when i see someone hurt an animal purely for fun. And yes, i'm a vegetarian. May i stay that way.

We rented out an attic to live in. My mother was pregnant with my sister at my request. I was 3 or 4. I had a russian hat that i wore, and it made me look like the little dicator i was. My day would consist of scratching the lead paint off the wall, running in the yard, and going to see the other, richer renters who bought out a small bedroom. Jason and Daphne. I would go outside and talk to Jason while he smoked. He warned me not to breathe it in. I also like to listen to wonder woman records on the record player that Daphne would put on for me. Then she would make me chamomile tea. Nice people. I called them Jaysa' and Daffee. We had a cat. A new one, because Inga got out and was too feral to come back. My dad tried to trap her with food, but he gave up when she actually slipped through the chicken wire at the top of the food-trap. When we had to take her to the vet, my parents would trap her in a box then hold her with gloves. We only kept her to save her life, i was told. Our new cat was one we bought at Seward park from a guy with a bunch of kittens. Actually, we didn't get our cat Jamima until my sister was born, so we must have been in the mead street house by then.

We bought the mead street house. The first, and the first my parents bought, owned property i lived in. We bought it from friends, otherwise we never could afford it. Now our family was me, 6, our cat, i think just younger than me, my sister, 3, my parents, and the dog, Harvey.

My dad worked at New Horizons, a drop-in center for homeless people ( they all had cool aliases too : rooster and cricket are the only ones i remember. Poor rooster. He died, i think in a fight, i can't recall. ) where he was the pastor, and i would go there and chat with the homeless people and the workers there. They were cool people. There i would also meet some kids to play with. The drop-in center held parties too. I went to those. The three workers there i remember were Yancy, Ron and Kirstin. Yancy had a lot of trinkets at his desk and was an eccentric person. Fun to talk to. Also really good at Unreal Tournament from what my father tells me. Ron had spiky black hair and a strong back. He had a glass eye and liked to joke around. Kirstin was ok, all i remember is her dog. I think Rich worked there too. he had dreadlocks. Bit of a hippy. He was married to Mary. I think a bald man lived with them and so did his wife. Maybe i just think that because of the time i went over there they were there too though.

The whole New Horizons staff had nerf guns ( and a LAN UT network ). So did i. My dad had this pump action chain gun that shot large darts, and i used the Secret shot pistol. It was very accurate. Served me well. Although, i have graduated to airsoft now. I liked to fight with swords made from pvc, duct tape and foam rubber, and i had a bow my dad made for me. The arrows were wood tipped with duct tape to soften the blow. I still like archery.

When i was bored at home ( often, i was allowed 30 whole minutes of tv, without cable, a day) I would go in the back yard and play with my sister, or pick dandelions and pretend they were families. Then i would take rocks and think of different ways to kill them. I liked to make screaming noises. I would also walk barefoot in the ash of our firepit, then find rocks. I would take the rocks and bang them together like the ape in 2001: A Space Odyssey. I pretended that the rocks were wrestlers and the ones that broke lost. Eventually, however, i found the hardest rock and had to move on. So i chased the cat who scratched me and played with the dog, and took my sword ( extra long. i called it excalibur all the time. you know, like my penis. ) and wapped the blakcberry bushes down the short hill in our yard at the end. I also got in the rain barrels and rolled down the hill.
I liked to fight with the neighbors' dog. I didn't have that much time to play though because i was homeschooled.

We were poor. We collected rain in barrels to supplement our water supply, dried clothes on a line, kept a vegetable garden and went to food banks. We also bought our clothes from goodwill and i got the hand-me-downs.


Meh. I'm bored of writing. More later.