In the beginning, god created space. And he was happy for a time. But then he got bored, he wanted more to it, he wanted to see action, he wanted to see mortal conflict, he wanted beings unique an beautiful all reacting with each other. He no longer wanted time to stand still. So he created life, and what he got in the end was pain, suffering, and sin.
The best part about his new world was that everything repeats itself.
William Melchor's
Bloodshed
surviving teen suicide
2007-08
September 14th:
why are people so greedy? After getting trampled from poor assumptions I get jumped of ten dollars because a dude assumed I picked it up. He lied about losing it, and I refused to give it up.
And of course like everyone else he thinks he is better than me. Everyone acts like my life can be put on hold for theirs, but they have no trouble kissing my a** for wadded bills.
September 16th :
I had spent my weekend at the library volunteering in hopes of finding a job. I was so carried away that I stamped a full box of cards with the wrong date.
If I had a human heart, it would belong in this book....
-- William Melchor
September 19th:
12:00 pm, I have once again read a book that has shown me some sort of light. This book taught me that living for so many years without the one thing I craved will help me and effect me more.
I have place a solemn vow tonight, to leave my old ways behind in the dust. It will take a long time, but I will dispose my demolished heart and plant and new one. I will forget my love for the time being, but I must first work on that key blade I promised her...
I promise you my love, I will finish it.
September 24
Today I sit here in my reading class, it is my last class of the day. I have been trampled again by the beautiful image of my longed lover, but today... for some reason... I feel very terrible, her aura was threatening like she didn't want me around anymore.
Why does everyone deny me? I try for them, I try for you. I'm the nicest and the most successful guys in all of my classes. Yet my friends are still going out with a*****e and pricks that not even they consider. Do I have to be an annoying a*****e just to get a little attention around here? This is a problem that I don't understand. I don't know who to turn to anyways, American women do in fact, scare the living s**t out of me.
Standard belief
I do not believe in a beginning, humans record time in a time line. But beyond the boundaries of the time line is a double sphere. History must repeat itself and the duty of the human race is to reincarnate ourselves in the form of us and our fathers for when we die, nothing remains in us but our reincarnations and their reincarnations. We circle around in a sphere over and over again. Skaters, blond heads who think they own everything, confused people like me. The sphere in the middle represents all of the knowledge and abilities that generations gain.
With few distinct generations come curses, disabilities, bad luck. With me and my blood comes anger, hearing problems, seeing disabilities, extreme hunger. My mom's side of the family caries addiction to drugs and advertising, cancer and extreme bitchiness. Mom's side of the family are preps who think they are so cool, living like sorry bitches. I am the result and weakness of my past generations, when my mother divorced my father, I became a b*****d son because of my connections to my ex father. For I am a failing b*****d son and of my illness towards humans, I will be forever be unable to reincarnate myself.
I would assume that this curse of mine would leave the earth... this family is left with one more b*****d son. He is everything in the likeness of me. And he also carries the same damned curses, but since he has not been left with the same crushing fate as me, he can still find peace within himself to forgive. And therefore our curse shall continue.
The life of one person is divided into different chapters. We change and leave behind previous chapters, about every few months to three years is the normal time for one life to pass by. And in every life we play the role of a new character.
In the beginning I was made of one person, but through random events in my life, [ I have developed my own unique character. And still I continue to change]
September 30
I had awaken this morning, I was so tired I could hardly see, these are one of the mornings that I wish would never come. My mother had gotten me up and filled my face with threats. She had told me of what a lazy child I am. And that not only have I not cleaned the kitchen, but I didn't do s**t but turn the dishwasher on. And of course I got furious, listening to the barbaric boasting of my wicked b***h mother. I was up till 2:40 in the night before, washing dishes by hand, washing every surface, I swept, I got on my hands and knees washing smudges out. I wiped crust and grime, leftovers running down my legs.
I had to sit here and listen to this woman b***h about what a b*****d son I am. If I had been raised to stand up for my hard efforts I would have knocked the fat b***h out. But being the sweet and innocent b*****d, torn over and over again by my family, they know my self esteem is dry. They threat freely and stab my in the back. The woman had made breakfast, hoping that I would eat from her hands and shove her words down my throat. I was about to do a trick, but instead I made an oath to break her tricks.
Omen oath_ Melchor 9/30- this woman had put dinner on my empty plate, but she had also treated me with threats, I will not accept her poison because she does not accept me, she had declined my hard work, she has taken what was my glory and bent it into a sharp weapon, and she crawls like a snake to the puppet she calls my father, and have ever so trusted it up my a**.
I will not eat from her hands, she has declined me. She denies my hard sacrifice, and deliberately spat all of my tears, my knowledge, my power, my strengths, me crumpled success in my face.
The end
If I had enough courage to stand up to this woman, that in so I have the skills and responsibility. Or had talked this out with my puppet step father. I would be living on the sidewalks right about.... now. These peasants do not accept any less than professional to the social appeal. She may deny me as a son, but she cannot deny the fact that five dollar condoms are a lot cheaper than Halifax. Reason being said is that she does not want the house wrecked, but can she handle the spawns from hell that she herself bore, seducing my b*****d c**k sucking father over and over again? This woman is a whore, she has stripped me of my father, my cousins who I would gladly trade my life to save theirs, she has spat in the faces of my grandmother, my aunts, and everyone else, stripping me of my life, my love, my dreams, my future, my present, my self esteem, my love for learning, my ability to make friends, my ability to get a job, my ability to feed the greedy satanic sprouts that she bore. She has made the ******** up visions in my head. I feel like I am the sad creation of my father and god. I feel like I am the ugliest piece of s**t to have breathed and walked upright on the earth. That I am a waste of god and a waste of god's time.
For I was bound from the womb of a fat whore, and a ******** up ugly sheep of whom I given death to my bitter soul.
I simply dumped the s**t behind my mother's back and the day got better.
October 1rst
yes, October the first... the day of FCAT! I quickly got into a good meal and ran out the door on queue. The winds were actually on my side, this was a nooblet retake. My IQ is 300% higher, better than last time. I had also taken the beginning of this year on FCAT classes. Mrs Davis gave me a token for my knowledge. Today I gave a solemn vow to rise higher than the gods eyes can see. Last a good weekend had ended for this day to come and I am pissed!
I set out for high school and took a moment to look at the multicolored blue sky. Dead in the middle of the atmosphere lay the moon. Howling as my target to shoot. Shoot into infinite knowledge, like a young phoenix.
The FCAT is ********, ******** like a b***h.
October 2
Today is Tuesday, the worst day of the week. It is traditional work for “bad luck on a work day”. Say this because all of my Tuesdays are really, really bad. I awoke this morning out of bed, already late to the bell by thirty minutes. I had nothing to wear but a fagot a** yellow shirt. I had no breakfast. When I got out the door the rain dropped on me. I forgot to zip my bag and everything was devastated. I got sick that day and my grades dropped by 15%.
October 10
there are times when I feel not a thing too right. I only list what is important about me. This year I posed as a school mascot, as dumb as I was I gave him a dumb name, “Cuda Man” because the school mascot is a barracuda.
I feel sad because I have not had a girlfriend since two summers ago. And my last girlfriend never spent time with me. This curse strikes me with emotional spikes, the lust flowing though my mind, veins and blood. I crave love with open arms reaching out, but only to touch a hallowed heart. Made by pain and folly. When will I learn to live?
October 11
What if... or if only... I could find love available again. Without spilling the blood drops from my empty heart. From that special someone that I've known for so long, even when I have spent my happiness, my affection, and my time dry.
Sometimes I will get so hopelessly affectionate, that I stop breathing or I can no longer taste or see color. Within my knowledge I would never cut myself under any condition, because it has never been significant towards helping people.
But sometimes my breathing would get so thin and I start to hallucinate and s**t. The only way to let my tears out is to disappear or let someone (I don't know but not a positive thing). And bleeding doesn't make me cry anyways.
I've known Dynetta Colman for six years, she has plagued my fondest memories that I ever so enjoyed. She was the only thing beside Ben Lee and Christian Meike that wasn't a bad childhood memory. Just thinking of the memories burned into my mind makes me freak. Also the fact that her alone and send me tumbling and falling on a bed of six inch spikes.
I met Dynetta in the sixth grade in my history class. I forgot the name of my teacher or any of the other fagots in that school. At first she considered me the nerdiest losers, and I was without a doubt. My grace was used like toilet paper at best. To wipe the sorry assholes of every homeless prospect in that school, just t have a good laugh. The only thing I was good for was a paperweight for pushing, making remarks, or someone my dad could bust the s**t out of every time he got pissed. At the time death awaited me.
When we got to eighth grade, she started to draw pictures, thanks to Charles Stillman I met Ben Lee. I was so bad a** and loved to write about bad a** dragons, berserker demons, he even invented his own code of writing. No one ever caught us because no one could tell what they were reading. Dynetta always loved to doodle in here subject notebooks. I had always asked her to help me draw, at the time I didn't know how to draw a square. Each day we would waste our time drawing, I loved the way she drew, especially in ninth grade. She gained an unusually unique (gay but still cool) way of drawing. She only drew guys because she wasn't into girly things (I dig it!). She was into Japanese pop and video games, and I went with her. We trashed our minds so much, but we enjoyed it.
Ben, D-Chan, and I love the final fantasy series, we talked about it every day. Because of them I can write a pageful about where I want to be, and what I want to be. Both of them helped shape my dreams, my goals, and many plans in my life. And something else they gave me more special, something no fake or false loving friends can give.
A reason to live again...
October 12
my dream is to finish high school with a 3.5 scholarship. I want to go to Full Sail and work on Video Game graphic design, also a master in sequential graphic illustrations. I want to work for Square Enix, create my own final fantasy and play the guitar. I would like to write novels someday, and design accessories that would be hard to throw away like other bullshit people make these days.
In my mind I want to be that guy standing on the stage holding the one I loved for so long in my arms, and we would finally look good together. I want to shoot, if not halfway or any percent for prom king. I wish I could dance or had the money to support me and my prom date. Writing like this makes me feel like ******** Cinderella, but I am no prince. I am a b*****d son.
What if... or if only... I could be that guy, better looking, better grades, like blond headed people. That any woman can enjoy being with, or the power too.
October 15
that vision came to me again, it always comes to me when I don't tell people the truth. It all started with a simple drawing. Whether it was good or bad I was going to draw how I felt. This time I wanted to draw love. A picture not so toward each other but as if it were publicly correct. First I drew a simple man that represented myself because I was feeling the guilt of loneliness. And after so many solemn minutes I turned to the woman's face, and I had a problem. Who was going to be this person? I knew Dynetta couldn't be the person because we chose friendship, and I like her as a friend. But no one else was in mind. Was I in love? Or was I just being desperate?
Who in the world likes me or cared where I came from?
wip
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