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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Will I Ever Be Okay?dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: corruptedspirit
    ASL Info:    26/Male/England (Swindon
    Elite Ratio:    5.42 - 163/188/60
    Words: 601
    Class/Type: Story/Serious
    Total Views: 604
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3123



    Description:
       The very rough notes for writing a story about my life.... Obviously I would add more desciptions over time etc. But this is the kind of style I would like to write in... Any tips?


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsWill I Ever Be Okay?dots
    -------------------------------------------


    Can everything really be okay? I'm still not convinced....


    I used to live a life that if I was found out would of netted me a great deal of time in prison. It's not a subject that I care to recall in it's entirety and wouldn't ever divulge certain details to anyone ever. Please don't go thinking I was some mass murderer or something but basically I got in with certain people that shipped goods if you like at the age of 16. And through natural process as I got older, bigger and more useful. And, I was used.

    Mainly for the transport of things, a kind of chaperone to make sure that all the cogs are moving in the right direction. It very rarely got ugly, but when it did, it was not nice. I personally never harmed anyone more than a right foot to the side of head or whatever it took to get them to be laid on the floor. What i saw happen was a lot worse.

    I looked at myself one day from an outside perspective and I scared myself so much I had to leave. As in disappear forever and never make contact with anyone that was involved in this life I had lived for the last three years. So I did.

    At the young age of 19 I learned my lesson. I knew what it meant to have had and lost, but I'll touch on that area later.... Continuing with the issue at hand....

    I moved from this area of the UK, and my girlfriend at the time and mother of my child thought I was going to work back in my home town monday to friday and was going to travel by coach every other weekend to go see her. I'll always remember that face for as long as I live. The photograph is etched into my soul with the most amazing attention to detail no camera could every compare.
    For this picture of my true love, and my little baby girl could very well be the last time I see either again. I also left a job that was paying me near 1000 a week plus the commission of various other dealings. I've never been so rich or so happy to be honest. Apart from the dodgy not so brillant areas I had the perfect lifestyle. A 19 year old boy, with more money than he could spend, a absolute stunner of a girlfriend that was 27 and very experianced in the bedroom, and the most beautiful daughter. If there's a god, then he crafted her with his own hands and then when his work was done, it was deemed a true masterpiece by all, with no exceptions. I wish I could see her now, I would give everything I own to see her for just one day, and to feel her arms around my neck and to hear her call me daddy. Last time I saw her she was in her mothers arms, at the age of just 18 months giving me a kiss. The one true moment of my life I that always gives me a smile and then an instant twang of pain immediately after.

    That twang of pain after endless months of tears near drove me to suicide. I sat on top of the building for nearly 20 hours, but I never managed that final push.... Does that me a coward or does that make me brave? I still haven't decided....

    To be continued....





    Submitted on 2009-10-17 14:39:07     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Well, you only get a small window of "unconditional love" in a kids' life where you can breeze back in with a bull[censored] story to make it "all ok" and they accept it and love you instantly for coming back for them. After that, you've got a little angry [censored] on your hands, who parrots her mothers' bitter words. Trust me, I was kicked off my real father's leg at age 2 when he was heading out of the door to leave us, I remember that slam to the floor better than I remember most things most days. Sometimes I even take extra pills for it. lol

    However, you'll be glad to know my father never succumbed to suicide over it, got over it quite nicely and went on to create a late-life family with a too-young wife, so all ends well. And me, well, I met him. We talked about it. He said what he said, and I saw what I saw, and that was about it. He's that guy who knocked my mother up and split. That's all he is. Oh yeah, and an Asshole, but he earned that with the lies and "cleaning up history" he attempted to do in his story.

    So, the lesson here should be, What do you want to be now? Suicidal father who ended his life without another visit, and becomes a teen-age solution to a bad day? Or maybe look her up in a few years, or let the court system do it for you if Mom gets hit by a bus and they need someone who is next-of-kin to claim her from the Foster We-Care Center after the immediate family refuses to take her in... always a fine time to show up and say, "You can call me Dad." Wow. Lucky lucky day for 2 total strangers to be thrown together!

    Or, you could just buy a goddamn teddy-bear or a little trinket gift from the dollar store for less than $5, and show up and be the best thing that ever happened to her, while there is still time to be that.

    Excuse my disgust at the end there.... confused fathers hiding from their daughters who are living in a question mark, really piss me off when I overthink it. I'm sure you'll do whatever you think is best, but maybe you shouldn't. Where has your judgement gotten you so far?

    Just go see her. Don't call unless you're outside the house. Just go see her. Christ, that is really not so hard, huh?

    Or, have a daughter like me. (Jump now, in other words.)
    | Posted on 2009-10-17 00:00:00 | by Runes | [ Reply to This ]
      well i think i'll start by saying writing about yourself is always the hardest thing to do...to truly put things out there for others to read-relate-comment- and critique is a brave thing to do...and very very difficult.

    and these are my thoughts

    i am a true believer in No Regret and as to your past this can be applied...for even the extremely horrible things left an impression on you...an imprint of their being...and there for are a part of who you are as a human being...we're all human. we've all made mistakes, some worse then others but we've all fallen. fact of the matter is you stood back up...that is the true test or our spirit...not what we've done but what we've learned from doing so...not what we were but who we've become...yep

    your child must miss you terribly...as you miss her. that is one hole that Nothing can fill...sad very very sad. for this loss i am truly sorry...babies mum must miss ya something fricken awful too :(
    for your sake i hope you can reach out...but wait this is not over...to be continued intrigues me
    over all you had a typo

    experianced

    should be 'rie' instead of an 'a'

    other then that is was heartfelt and touching

    thanks for sharing...and do tell when you've added kay

    k

    | Posted on 2009-10-17 00:00:00 | by clay | [ Reply to This ]


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