Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2017 14:57:30 GMT
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i don't miss high school  "Matt O'Sullivan, of course I remember Matt. He was the kind of kid your parents would shit themselves over if you were ever seen together. He was a total burnout, on the rare occasions he made it into school he'd have eyes as red as anything, barely able to say his own name... actually sometimes he wasn't stoned, and he could be funny those days. Talking back to the teacher, fidgeting like crazy. Poster boy for ADHD. I'm not sure he ever managed a full day of classes. He was disruptive, funny, wild, totally out of control, actually. It got to the point that if anything at all happened to anyone - someone got beat up, someone pulled the fire alarm, someone flooded the toilets - they'd just call Matt to the office and have him state an alibi before they even started investigating it. Smart of them, since 90% of the time he didn't have one. Early on I was intimidated by Matt, by how much he clearly didn't give a fuck. He spent a couple years going full punk just to make his strict Catholic parents despair as much as possible. Then I found him funny and even charming, the archetypal bad boy... OK, I had a crush. But finally I realized how bored he was, how bone deep that boredom went, how aimless it made him... then he got expelled, then he went to juvie, I don't know... it was sad. Not surprising, but still sad. I hope he's gotten his life together." last words Hey Faith, Sorry I'm late, we had a few contraband issues that held up all mail privileges. Fucking hate how you're held responsible for other people's bullshit in here, y'know? Like I can't write to my sis in law because some cunt decided to get his girl to send in razorblades? Fuck, sorry, I know you hate that word. Some jerk. I haven't been able to stop thinking about your news. I'm a mess F, one second I'm elated, like happier for you guys than I've ever been for anything, then the next I can't fucking cope with the fact my first niece or nephew is gonna be born and I'm gonna be fucking stuck in here. It's my fault, I know. I'm not worried for her (it's gonna be a girl, mark my words) 'cause I know you'll both be such great parents. But I'm worried for me. I don't want her growing up thinking her uncle's a worthless piece of shit. So I'm gonna do better. One day we'll be able to tell her her Uncle Matt was in jail once and she'll be stunned, because that's how good I'll have been to her her whole life. I'll tell her I was just a Sorry, I've made this all about myself. Another thing to add to the list of things I could improve on.. I'm so happy for you, Faith, I can't think of anyone who'd make for a better mom. Tom too. Tell him I'm excited, won't you? Tell him I'm gonna stop being such an embarrassment. All my love to all three of you. Speak soon, Matt  "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus... those prayers will never leave me. It's amazing how just three words can bring the whole chant back, the same rhythmic repetition, every mass, every mealtime. My parents were, to use the technical term, religious wingnuts. My god, did they have a hard on for Jesus. Religious people are so selective. They used the birth of me and my brother as conclusive proof that their prayers had been answered, since they'd prayed and prayed and prayed for a baby and wound up with two. Divine intervention! God is good! Tom was a sickly child, he'd catch every bug that ever went around. That wasn't God's plan, but God cured him. Why did God give him illnesses in the first place? Then there was me, the teenage tearaway. Ever the cliche, I spent my teenage years rebelling against the religious restrictiveness of my parents, wearing all black, safety pins, eyeliner. I praised Satan, I smoked, I made a big point of having premarital sex. Of course, God couldn't be blamed for all that, oh no. That was the Devil, and I was weak for letting him in. It didn't help that Tom was a regular little disciple. Of course he wasn't, but Tommy's not as aggressive as I am, he's not such a showoff. He didn't believe but he didn't kick up a fuss, he let our parents have their delusion. Me and Tom have always gotten along, but I used to think he was a pussy. Now I realize it was all me. What a fucking attention seeker I was, how fucking pathetic. We're almost thirty and he's lived a dream life, he's gotten to actually be part of civilization instead of spending his time cooped up in a cell. Fuck, I can't believe how things have worked out. He deserves so much more." brotherhood "Sometimes I think my sons think I'm stupid. You only need to take one look at them to know that they are not wholehearted members of the church, with their tattoos and their refusal to ever shave. In my dreams they're just as handsome but clean cut, with good Catholic wives and children named after their father and I. It's a dream, of course. But that's not to say I would change them, contrary to what they-- well, what Matthew might believe. It's hard to say what influence they've had on each other. On the surface their lives have taken very different turns, and I can't say Matthew didn't bring his fate upon himself. Thomas was always obedient and would go out of his way to placate us, where Matthew did nothing but antagonize. Even as a child he would fight me every step of the way, always questioning authority, always trying to find a way to break the rules, even stupid little rules. He was such a difficult child. I know he'd share with Thomas behind my back, he was always protective of him, but in front of me he'd play the bully, snatching things away from his brother or making a scene. Thomas took the good with the bad. His father sometimes lost his temper. God sends us challenges, and Matthew was my challenge. Thomas was the light that kept me going, evidence that it was not my parenting that lead his brother astray but the Devil himself. Matthew gave us no choice but to press charges eventually. Poor Sylvia! She was always angelic beside him, even a mother could see that he was not good for her. I'm so happy that she has Thomas and he has her. That may sound harsh to Matthew, but as I said, he brought this upon himself. After all, he had exactly the same upbringing as Thomas, and look how he turned out. Thomas' challenge in life came in Faith, or rather God's plan for her. My heart breaks for him. My heart does not break for Matthew, who has been the source of all his own problems. It's strange to me that Tommy can't seem to see this about him, and has always looked for good where there simply isn't any. Perhaps it's because Matt was always so voraciously defensive of his brother. He mistook his kindness for weakness and overcompensated, scared that someone would see him as an easy target. Of course the irony is that he was the easy target, he had let negative influences into his life from na early age and shut Christ out. It's my understanding that Matthew is on a better track now. Whilst I believe him, I hope he doesn't get mixed up in Thomas' affairs. He and Sylvia are a lovely couple and Thomas doesn't need any more heartbreak in his life, not even from his brother. This may sound harsh, but he's a burden on all of us. May Christ save his soul."  AT FIFTEEN my first ever girlfriend. the most beautiful girl i'd ever seen, someone who needed to loosen up, someone who sent my hormones into total overdrive, i was surprised by how funny she was, her innocence was endearing rather than annoying, i woke up thinking about her and went to sleep with her still on my mind, she was everything to me. AT SEVENTEEN my on/off girlfriend. everyone was so sick of our break ups, since we'd be publicly making out less than a day later. she could be a nag about settling down and making plans, but i loved her, and deep down i was willing to go along with them. she was still the most beautiful girl i knew, even if i'd sometimes flirt with her friends to piss her off. she was still everything to me, even if i took her for granted. AT TWENTY-ONE sylvia stood by me when i was in juvie and i loved her for it. after i got expelled her parents had totally blacklisted me, then when i went to juvie they thought it was over.. too bad for them. it rejuvenated us. we were so in love, i'd missed her so much, i didn't even care about being public about how much i needed her. absence had made the heart grow fonder, and also made me really fucking horny. at twenty-one i was as obsessed with her as i was the day we first met and she gave me the time of day, i was smitten, i was hooked, i couldn't go five minutes without telling her i loved her and wanted to be with her. i was inspired by tom and faith, i wanted to be like them. i invited her into my world more than i ever had, including taking her out when i stole my parents' car. if i have one regret in life, that's it. AT TWENTY-THREE at first, i'd never felt so betrayed. i couldn't believe that she had finally decided to take my parents' side once and for all. fuck, i was racked with guilt about what had happened, of course i never meant to hurt her! god, if i could turn back time and absorb all her injuries of course i would have, i loved her. i only wanted her to come along because i loved her. now here she was, sat next to my parents' as i was sentenced to actual jail time. she cried, they all cried. but they'd done it to me. what fucking right did they have to cry? i ignored any contact she attempted to make, until all attempts dried up. AT TWENTY-SIX eventually it dawned on me that this had all been my fault. all those years of torturing her, being hot and cold, being rude to and about her, being emotionally available and then publicly ridiculing her, what had i expected? finally i had physically harmed her, even though i never meant to. everything her parents had said about me was true, i would have ruined her life, maybe even killed her, just for the sake of my own hedonistic lack of impulse control. we were never like tom and faith because tom loved faith, really loved her, loved her in a way that transcended himself. i loved sylvia because she loved me, and that wasn't fair on her. i resolved to fix things with her as soon as i got out of jail (again). AT TWENTY-NINE sylvia's my brother's girlfriend. that's all there is to say. serving time DAY TO DAY • you end up pretty familiar with every brick in every wall of your cell, small chips and scratches act as artwork. engravings from previous inmates are cheering and depressing at the same time - someone's been here and left and someday you'll leave too, but it's depressing that someone will be here to replace you, and you're jealous of the old guy's freedom. everyone acts like a big man but it's better to keep your head down. visitors try to act normal but are visibly uncomfortable-- you don't care, you're just so happy to see a face that isn't so drearily familiar. meditation is vital. some days are ok, you get used to the food, good books solve everything. some days are hell and you'll want to die, but you won't have the means, so you'll survive. watch the weather, will your way through it, wait your time. TIPS • read. read, read, read, then read some more. get people to send you books because the bible gets old, there's lots in spanish, and everything else won't last long. don't accept favors. sometimes it's better to just take a beating. don't dwell on things in real time, i.e. try not to wonder what your loved ones are doing right now. try not to bum your visitors out, you'll start hearing excuses as to why they can't come back. try not to be depressed when the visits dry up. assume everyone is either gang affiliated or a narc, treat both with cool indifference. every day is a day closer to home. your girl will leave you, let her. |
lex | rene grincourt | resident |