Twenty six years.
Twenty six years, I have been on this evil, unforgiving planet.
During that time I have had several ambitions, more lifelong dreams than I can count on fingers toes and hairs, few of which I have actually attempted to act upon.
How many of those have come true? ZERO! How many friends do I have? Quite a few, but the problem with a good half of them is that uh, you're all scattered around the world! Not that I hate that, but I really wish I could have met some of you in person some days.... How many girls have I met? LOTS. How many girlfriends have I had? Four. How many turned out to be either crazy, too far away or already taken? ALL OF THEM.
When I was eight, I saw a trailer in Walmart's game aisle for this game that featured like, eighty-something selectable characters, all of which were able to do these flashy, sparky, fiery moves and combos that looked super awesome and my tiny little brain was like "cool, I wanna do something like that! I wanna produce my own game some day!"
Twenty six years, several sketchbooks full of unfinished concept art, many notebooks with game ideas later, look where I am. I'm still doing nothing but spending every morning waiting for everybody to wake up, just so I can go downtown and make maybe a trickling $10 every week or so to add on to whatever funds we currently have, just to get by, only to come home to see that my family's having YET ANOTHER fight over yet another something else that's too petty to have a serious fight over, sometimes involving me, allll so we can all wake up tomorrow and do it all over again. For what? What do we gain? What do we learn? Where do we lead ourselves in the process? When do we decide enough is enough? Why do we even bother to waste all our time, effort, energy, into screaming at each other over something that little kids solve by sharing with each other?
What in the name of holy handwritten hateful hell was God thinking when he put me here, on this unforgiving, stench-of-pure-hateful-evil, masochistic, bipolar, no-good bottom-of-the-fish-barrel, cluelessly spinning ball of steaming CRAP?!
Throughout the course of my "life" if I dare even think to define this stupid timeline I'm in in such a way, I have found myself converting from Christianity to SEVERAL different religions in search of some form of meaning to the lifelong calendar of misfortune I've been so LOVINGLY handed by the Man Upstairs. Zero answers. Zero whatsoever.
The ONLY thing I have managed to find to be of any actual use to me in any form of spirituality at ALL, is magick/witchcraft. I have done many spells in the past, the whole thing started as a suggestion by my mother while she was still doing her taxi job, after I introduced her to a website called Spells of Magic. I told her I had learned how to perform sigil magick and told her I could use it to attract money to us in the form of her receiving calls for her job. Lo and behold, when I did one, she called me and told me, believe it or not, that it actually worked and she did end up making a lot of money, so, I've been performing magick spells ever since, for different reasons and things we've needed over the years, many of which were very, VERY vital to our survival. I think, in a strong sense, if I had simply brushed off magick as some kind of collection of old wives tales, I don't think my family would even have the house I'm sitting inside of right now.
You know what would have happened if I had asked GOD for that to happen to us? NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. BECAUSE THE WHOLE TIME I TURNED TO PRAYER WHEN WE WERE HOMELESS, THE ENTIRE, WHOLE TIME I PRAYED TO GOD, LEGITIMATELY, I NEVER, EVER SAW ANY OF IT GET ANSWERED.
The ONLY time anything actually happened for us was when I performed a magick spell. If I asked God, I'd get crickets.
So what has God ever done for me?
What am I even doing here?!
Twenty six years, I have been on this evil, unforgiving planet.
During that time I have had several ambitions, more lifelong dreams than I can count on fingers toes and hairs, few of which I have actually attempted to act upon.
How many of those have come true? ZERO! How many friends do I have? Quite a few, but the problem with a good half of them is that uh, you're all scattered around the world! Not that I hate that, but I really wish I could have met some of you in person some days.... How many girls have I met? LOTS. How many girlfriends have I had? Four. How many turned out to be either crazy, too far away or already taken? ALL OF THEM.
When I was eight, I saw a trailer in Walmart's game aisle for this game that featured like, eighty-something selectable characters, all of which were able to do these flashy, sparky, fiery moves and combos that looked super awesome and my tiny little brain was like "cool, I wanna do something like that! I wanna produce my own game some day!"
Twenty six years, several sketchbooks full of unfinished concept art, many notebooks with game ideas later, look where I am. I'm still doing nothing but spending every morning waiting for everybody to wake up, just so I can go downtown and make maybe a trickling $10 every week or so to add on to whatever funds we currently have, just to get by, only to come home to see that my family's having YET ANOTHER fight over yet another something else that's too petty to have a serious fight over, sometimes involving me, allll so we can all wake up tomorrow and do it all over again. For what? What do we gain? What do we learn? Where do we lead ourselves in the process? When do we decide enough is enough? Why do we even bother to waste all our time, effort, energy, into screaming at each other over something that little kids solve by sharing with each other?
What in the name of holy handwritten hateful hell was God thinking when he put me here, on this unforgiving, stench-of-pure-hateful-evil, masochistic, bipolar, no-good bottom-of-the-fish-barrel, cluelessly spinning ball of steaming CRAP?!
Throughout the course of my "life" if I dare even think to define this stupid timeline I'm in in such a way, I have found myself converting from Christianity to SEVERAL different religions in search of some form of meaning to the lifelong calendar of misfortune I've been so LOVINGLY handed by the Man Upstairs. Zero answers. Zero whatsoever.
The ONLY thing I have managed to find to be of any actual use to me in any form of spirituality at ALL, is magick/witchcraft. I have done many spells in the past, the whole thing started as a suggestion by my mother while she was still doing her taxi job, after I introduced her to a website called Spells of Magic. I told her I had learned how to perform sigil magick and told her I could use it to attract money to us in the form of her receiving calls for her job. Lo and behold, when I did one, she called me and told me, believe it or not, that it actually worked and she did end up making a lot of money, so, I've been performing magick spells ever since, for different reasons and things we've needed over the years, many of which were very, VERY vital to our survival. I think, in a strong sense, if I had simply brushed off magick as some kind of collection of old wives tales, I don't think my family would even have the house I'm sitting inside of right now.
You know what would have happened if I had asked GOD for that to happen to us? NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. BECAUSE THE WHOLE TIME I TURNED TO PRAYER WHEN WE WERE HOMELESS, THE ENTIRE, WHOLE TIME I PRAYED TO GOD, LEGITIMATELY, I NEVER, EVER SAW ANY OF IT GET ANSWERED.
The ONLY time anything actually happened for us was when I performed a magick spell. If I asked God, I'd get crickets.
So what has God ever done for me?
What am I even doing here?!