The day I left that house

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Well My names D. Scavanger, I really dont know where to begin with these things, so I'll start with the first day. I can't really remember what day it was, early September maybe? Lets just say this day didn't start off to well, shit even the night before was leading up to today with gum on the bottem of my shoe. I was fucking around on the computer at "home" knowing I should go and cut the grass so I didn't have to here my old man ramble about how I'm ruining my life. Same fucking thing everyday. "Why do you spend your money on food when theres food here? Why are you not studying for your GED? Why is it so fuckig hard for ou to cut the grass? Why don't you just grow up?". Well I've had alot of time to think aobut those things and I've come up with this. I just don't give a fuck, why should I? I'm 20 years old and already seen way to much, why stop. It's funny how I suffer panic attack inside "homes" and not suffer from them when I'm not. Maybe this is my life, the bad guy, the one destined to fail, destined to not do anything, in their eyes. They'll never see how happy I am doing this. Sure there are alot of nights when I just wanna die, but who dosnt sometimes. I am always reminded of the good things in life, the things I long to see and will see as long as this heart of mine keeps beating and eating up these memory's. I'm somewhat getting off track to what I started this as. This isa story of my life, the inner revolution, time to act. It's a hardthng to do when your so consumed by a beautiful image layed in front of you in pixel form when the real thing is a million miles away. I could swear I could stare at it as long as I could stayed awake and have the image burned into my mind so that when it was time for rest I could see was it. I stared and stared, not controling my bad hapit to bite my nails. Then it happened, something hard something familer in a wrong place floaing around my mouth. It was part of my tooth, I chipped my fucking tooth biting my nails, as if I didn't already feeling sorry for myself being a 20 year old who lived at home just waiting and waiting and never acting on the call of the road and what else thiscrazy fucked up asventure of a life had in store for me. It took a moment to gasp the fact of what just happen and then a few more convining myself it really happened. Then it sunk in, and all I could do was curse the fact that it did. "What the fuck? Did this just happen? What do I do? Is this worse the the time my old man chipped his tooth eating noodles?". The question just kept flowing around in my mind. I must have pondered this a million times enough to be brought back to my old mans daily questions. Brought back to life, to that image, to his down grading questions I flipped, I had enough. I just said "Fuck this shit, I'm done, I just chipped my fucking tooth, I'm fucking done". I walked passed him downing him out to a soundtrack of songs I could never forget. Have you ever tued out what people are saying to you and just put your on wods to it, it was like thethe fist time I did acid but I wasn't fucked up. It was like everyone sang a different song and I just went along with it, packing my bags cursing myself. As I finished I looked up and tuned back in to him saying "What was all of this for? Where are you gonna go? What kind of life will you make of yourself under a bridge?". I couldn't justify any of it ause even I didn't know, then the image came to me. I knew what I was to do. I don't really remember what it was I said, but I do know what I would have said. It would have went something like this I suppose: I really don't know, all I know is I can't do this. I stay home all day afraid to open my mouth to say a word, a word to anyone in this house, this house ain't a home to me, and I'm sorry I have to go. I have to go fall in love with this land you faught to protect. - Maybe something cheesey like that, who knows. I cant hit rewind, the tapes damaged, it can only go forward as only can I. I must go see whats out there, I must find this image, I must live and write more in this journal. I don't know what will happen tomorrow or after that, I do know I'll keep that image i my head as I walk this land, and who knows what will happen when I meet her, we'll see now wont we.


With much love,
D. Scavanger
 

farmer john

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poetic yet not contrived i like it
will ther be more journal posts in the future?
 

farmer john

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no prob u deserve it
and saweeeeet
 

farmer john

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yea i am
link?
 

farmer john

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checkd it out
wudnt let me post without registering
d scavanger aint that bad ive heard worse
its better then all the fake ass gangsta and "dark" sounding ones
 

farmer john

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shit then it means sumthng
wish more people r age new about life and respect its like were the last of a dying race
 

genghis braun

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I know what it's like for a "home" to not be a home. I've had the talk with my parents about what I'm going to do with my life as well. I'm content to be a disappointment to them if I'm doing what makes me happy. at this point, I just tell them things straight up and if they have a problem with it, then that's their deal
 
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It really does sure do feel that way, but with the more I start talking to people the more I feel myself falling in love. I used to never really talk until I left. I felt no point to it if I was only to get talked down to in the end of the convo.
 

farmer john

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i know what u mean bro when im stationary i never really talk maybe interject a lil here or ther but thats it
on the road and with other real people im fine talking allday
 

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