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down a long hallway and entered a large living room with shiny and elegant furniture and there a woman with hair in a bun holding a cigarette in gloved hand somewhat made a sound at noticing us and gave a look of disgust and annoyance as if those before her suffered from some incurable decease, and with indifference examined the clothes, and signaled yes to the maid who had lead there and in turn signaled to follow back the same way. Going down the hallway heard voices from the grand stairwell came the sound of voices and noticed two girls and a boy walking down who looked and just rolled their eyes with annoyance. The feeling of insignificance and out of place was overwhelming, in other words humiliation and shame for existing, a feeling of not being worth a crap, of just being a speck in a world where not existing would not be missed, a world that did not give a damn about anything, what was needed, what was thought, or what was wanted. That I was less than nothing. There were no words to say on the way back, but sadness and loneliness were heart-wrenching and quickly cleared a tear as the scenery began to change while getting closer to home, and that dirtiness, ugliness, and disrepair so common for those who are selfish, uneducated, and criticize, however, do not act according to that that bothers them so…As a child brought into this madness could only rely on confusion being the constant and questioned sanity often for such arrogance as to think the majority wrong and knowing better than them.

Years later though realized we can escape anything and anyone but not the reflection in the mirror, this will always judge, criticize, challenge, however, while in the stupidity questioned ideas and often engaged with those around hoping to belong and realize that the truth laid within them, and subsequently follow their example and become as they were. But no, there was no escaping the questions and doubts and to ignored them was futile, it only exacerbated anxiety and personal disgust for questioning what was obvious…And when questions were asked that one listening would look on with fear and retreat as though escaping something horrible.

Reading was a refuge, an escape, and way to achieve knowledge so craved and insight into what didn’t make sense. However, fear was a constant that questioned what was sought and perhaps didn’t exist, and that maybe was trying to avoid a harsh reality that was palpable and for all to bear.

And then there was the physical abuse from the bastard, -the male donor of sperm that supposedly gave life-…This fool was a vicious ignoramus who used me, -just a kid-, as the outlet for his frustration for being a loser, and often after indulging drinking he would come for no reason, start with slaps, often a belt would follow, and the entire violent scene always framed with insults. Mother stood by asking

#reading #criticize #selfsh

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