Well huh, I guess I'll just start. I grew up never knowing my actual father. I still have no clue who he is, and honestly there isn't a fiber of me that cares. I grew up living with my mom, grandfather and grandmother. My grandfather, was just that, a father to me. So the three of them all raised me.
Now skipping ahead. I always had a rough time in school. The teachers sucked and the kids were shit. So I dropped out in eighth grade. Probably the only good decision I have ever made. I actually learned a lot more, after doing that. Eventually I started skateboarding and made a few friends, after that I became a sort of transplant into this town, south of the one I am from and currently live in.
Eventually after having the worst girl related experiences of my life so far, I had finally found a girlfriend. Yaaaay! right? No, wrong! She treated me like shit. I eventually moved in with her. Big mistake.
Now by this time I had started working for my grandfather full time in his carpentry business. Not doin' to bad but still scraping by. This girl I was seeing had.. well to put it lightly, anger issues. She not only managed to repeatedly threaten and punch me (hit me with an acoustic guitar, which I actually find funny) but she also managed to burn a lot of the bridges I had built in the "transplant" town we moved to.
Moving on. A friend of mine, one who had introduced me to this town and all the people I now know. Not to mention, someone a couple years younger than me, that I looked up to. Had just returned from a long stay in the virgin islands all was well. Then, about a month later he died in a horrendous car crash, on the road where my parents house resides. But, I took it as inspiration to live for him. However, ever since then, things have gone steadily down hill. Soon (3 months) after that, I lost my aunt to a rare form of colon cancer. After we were all somewhat calmed from that storm, about a month or two later we lost my grandfather to a not so rare form of lung cancer. After that, another three weeks later one of my uncles died.
Of course after the death of my grandfather, I was now, out of a job. But I decided to push on. I found a job in a kitchen above a local watering hole of mine, and life started moving again. Soon after that, the one and only girlfriend I have ever had cheated on me, then broke up with me to go do whatever the hell it is she is doing now.
After working in the kitchen for a while, I had saved up almost no money what so ever and decided it was time for a change. Since the town I had transplanted to, had become no more, after the death of my friend, a few other people I had known moved about an hour away, to yet another town (duh). I thought, well why not go there.
So, I did just that. I was given a futon mattress on a cold drafty floor I could sleep on, until I found a job and could actually start paying rent. Not long after I did find a job.
The night before the interview, I learned that one of the now few friends I have was having a birthday back home. I went to the interview the next morning, killed it, got the job and drove strait back home to tell everyone and celebrate my friends b-day. Hooray! No, wrong again.
I found out my ex was going to be there, which pissed me off a great deal. But I figured why let that bother me. So as tradition we all ordered girlie drinks, you know like apple-tinis. Well if you've ever ordered one, you know the horrible kind of glass they come in and how hard they are not to spill. I spilled it all over myself. It was an event. Anyway, after that I had two beers and a talk with my ex. She convinced me to stop by her place and drop off the one or two things of hers I had in my car at the time. After the little shindig I did just that.
I was headed to her place and on the way, I sneezed. I had one of those "owe that fucking hurt!" sneezes, which then sent the car off into the snowy, soft shoulder of the desolate highway. With out enough time to hit the brakes or pull the car out of the shoulder I went strait into a telephone pole, snapping it in half and spinning the car around, into the opposite direction.
Soon after, with out fail the pigs showed up. They smelled the two beers on my breath and the apple-tini I never drank all over my sweater. They, without hesitation arrested me and put me in a cell for the night. Now, everyone thinks I'm a raging alcoholic. I have maybe two "friends" left who don't even live near me. I have spent literally all of my money on court fees, fines, and "alcohol driver education course", and a driver "retraining program". I have to attend a couple of AA meetings, I am on probation for a year, with the loss of my license for the same amount of time and I am back to living with my folks. Otherwise I would be completely homeless. I didn't mention this previously, but for a short time I was homeless. I am not doing that again. "It's rad, I'm having loads of fun thinking myself to death in this jail cell of a bedroom."
I've tried looking for a job, but there just aren't any around here anymore, and I no longer have a car to look elsewhere. Ultimately what bothers I'm such a weirdo in real life that girls fucking HATE me. Either that or there is no such thing as a girl who is a surrealist and an anarchist. At least not within a hundred miles of me.
So now I'm here venting, because no one will hear me out. Nobody bothers to hear the bad things in life. They only want to hear about nice fluffy pillows and kittens or baby fucking turtles. Not to mention there is no one TO hear me out. I no longer have friends, I have "friend(s)". The only thing that has gotten me through all of this is the fact that I didn't die during the crash.
Luck can be a whore sometimes, but she is always a bitch. C'est la vie.