Friday, April 5, 2013

What I Learned in Athens

I actually don't know how to sum up my fucking existence. I'm six months away from 34 and I feel like a day from 50. Here's what you should know about me. I'm down to earth, giving, friendly and an all around decent guy. However, I'm not perfect. I'm brooding, over analytical, depressive, distracted, a little lazy, quiet, and sarcastic at times. I use to dream of working as a lawyer, successful businessman, or a lethal cold-blooded assassin. Or maybe I just wanted to be a happy financially-secured lottery winner. I even saw my dream home. Oh man, my dream home was the shit. I went ancient on you muthafuckas. It looked like a Roman villa, pillars, pools, marble, oh yeah it's modern inside, a private theater and gym, it just looks ancient. I'd skinny dip at night in the summer and have a all nude house party only the hottest guests would attend.

Thanks to my shitty luck I'm not getting far enough to create that reality
for myself. I have had to settle with getting by on the will to live and the kindness of strangers (or the narcissism of others). There were times I would cry because I was so powerless. Stressed out of my mind, I had no clue how to get myself back on my feet. Putting up with people glowing in your face, pretending they cool with me and yet they aren't. So when I got the opportunity to move to Athens, GA in the Summer of 2004 I jumped at the opportunity. I agreed to move with in with these shifty ass dikes I was cool with to get out of slow, crushing life, of Albany, GA. Like a dumb ass,  I agreed. Drove the long ride in a car following them with all of our crap piled in one car, them scheming bitches in the other with the kids. I knew too well why they wanted me to come so bad but I ignored my instincts.

Although I wanted to start over and find a decent job, I was the only interested in actually achieving that goal. Living in a three bedroom house with so much God awful little nicknacks, ornaments, and other unnecessary shit on the walls made me claustrophobic at times. Three women, three men, and three small kids living under one roof without any AC in Georgia in the Summer makes any situation one from hell. The lady of the house was alright, I guess, if you can stomach seeing her run to the bathroom two or three times a week to spit out her lover's jizz. The so called "man of the house" was a short, rotten breath, arrogant son-of-a-bitch that had the nerve to think I'd buy him a cellphone and pay to sleep with him on the side. I would put a butt plug in my ass with a combination lock on it and put my dick on cold storage before I let this rotten breath bastard lay with me.

I slept on a sofa in the living room with a six-month old baby. It was some random bullshit. I'd wake up at three in the morning, sweating like a slave, to sounds of a screaming baby that wasn't even mine. The mama and girlfriend lay up in the bedroom under a fan cool and oblivious as fuck. I carefully politely snatched his lil ass out the chair swing and knocked on the bedroom door where his trifling mama and siblings were and passed him on to her.

Later drama began to develop. The lesbians wanted jobs somewhere else, but had bad luck finding any. They could have waited patiently for my school check, but they gave up and eventually moved back to Albany. It came the next day. Eventually I had to move back as well. I just couldn't put up with someone wanting me to pay my rent twice in the same month and then expected me to save up for my own place.

They world purposefully lock me out the house while I sat on the porch or not answer the door while I got soaked in the rain. It was an experience. I don't know how I handled it sometimes, but I managed. I took it as a lesson, from that point on not to put so much faith into friends just because they're cool with you. Try to see people for who they are, not just what you feel about them. And don't dry weed in a microwave it will catch fire.

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